Chapter 15 - finally 500?

Our resort holiday was wonderful, and there was far more frolicking, hijinks and naughty play... I could write a whole novel about it! It was a tremendously fun time, and the most sexually exciting experience I'd participated in since the days when my wife and I were active in the swinging community. What was surprising was how little anyone skied! Eventually, however, the holiday had to end, and it was back to reality once more. We did arrange to spend the next Easter long weekend with Doug and Annie, which gave us both something to look forward to.

My wife knew I was getting close to our goal of hitting 500 pounds, but she would leave nothing to chance. She had me on a difficult regimen, consuming vast amounts of food, stuffing me daily and forcing me to my limits. It all seemed like a sure-thing that I would eclipse 500 lbs before the end of 2016. I had maybe ten pounds to go - If I tried crazy hard, I could probably gain that in a few days. Easy peasey!

Then I came down with the flu.

Sometimes I take my health for granted because I hardly ever get sick. I rarely catch a cold, and I can't remember the last time I needed any kind of prescription medicine or antibiotics. I know it sounds weird coming from someone who is so massively obese, but I just never seem to have to worry about getting sick.

Almost never, it would seem. I was really sick, and it lasted for about four days. I was down with a fever, I couldn't eat, could hardly drink - I was living off ibuprofen and chicken noodle soup. We didn't get a chance to weigh me before I'd fallen ill, but my wife guessed that I lost 10-15 lbs over that week. Once I was back to normal, she redoubled her efforts, including some forced funnel feedings and weight gain shakes. I think my wife was enjoying it a lot more than I was at this point, to be honest. To me it was starting to feel more like work than fun. But I knew she was the boss, so I complied with whatever she requested.

New Year's Eve arrived and it was time to be weighed. I stepped on to the scale, with my giddy wife squealing behind me. She read the numbers out...

494.

She gave me a big hug. We were both a little let-down from getting so close to the milestone but still missing it. But it was still such an impressive number in its own right. We celebrated the end of the year with (can you guess?) a big meal.

***

I was sitting on the couch watching television on New Year's Day. I was wearing sweats that barely fit. My wife came into the room clad in just her underwear. She knelt on the couch next to me, taking the remote and turning the TV off. I knew better than to protest that I wasn't done watching the show, so I just turned and looked at her quizzically. She had one hand on my shoulder, and the other on the shelf of my belly, and was smiling at me.

"I think we should shoot for 600 lbs this year," she said, smirking.

I sighed. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, and I can honestly say I'm tempted - but I don't know if I'm ready."

"What aren't you sure about, baby?" she said, tracing circles on my belly with her finger. "I think you would look soooo hot with another hundred pounds. And I bet," her eyes narrowed into a squint, "at that size you'll be far too fat to actually reach that cock of yours... I mean, you can hardly get at it now! That would mean you'd need me to do it for you, anytime you wanted to get off."

She smiled widely now, as she imagined the scenario she described. I knew this was a fantasy of hers, and one that was no well within reach - the ultimate in domination, putting my sexual pleasure firmly under her control. It made me a little hard thinking about it, to be honest.

"I know... And I'm not saying I'll never want to gain anymore - but it's taken a lot of getting used to being this big... I mean, it's been really tough! I can't walk very far anymore, and the stairs just about kill me..."

"Awww, poor baby," she said, pouting, and rubbing my belly affectionately.

"Don't get me wrong, I love being big! I would just like to give my body time to adjust." I looked at her sheepishly. "Maybe get my strength up at the gym so I could carry the weight easier?"

Her frown melted into an understanding smile. "Alright, babe, I guess we can take a break for awhile. When do you think you'd like to revisit our next goal?"

"Maybe June?" I said, and shrugged, although as soon as I spoke I wished I'd said, "Next year!"

My wife hopped up off the couch and started to head in the direction of the kitchen. Over her shoulder she said, "Alright, piglet, we'll take a bit of a rest, but I can't promise you I won't try to keep fattening you up!"

And it would seem she was true to her word... As I write this, three months into my tenure as an "ex-feedee," not trying to intentionally gain weight, I now weigh 518 lbs. Hmmm...


THE END

(for now, at least!)