chapter 4

Jess removed the rubber ring from my mouth and fed me the rest of the mash. Although I was enjoying neither the flavour nor the texture of the mixture, I had already learnt that it would be better to be compliant; at least I then had some control how much and how fast I could be fed.

When the bowl was empty, I once again had a solid, distended belly and was struggling to breathe. As before, the chaperones helped me to the mattress and I tried to get comfortable. Jess had the biggest smile I had ever seen as I laid there hugging my stomach trying to find a position to take away the pain. She clearly got some sort of pleasure from feeding me so much. Once again, I was left alone, the door was locked and I fell asleep in my discomfort.

I had no idea of the passing time. There were no windows in the hut; the only light came from a single dim bulb which was permanently on. I lost all concept of day and night in the constant gloom. My world was those four walls. When Jess was there, I was eating; when she was not, I could sleep.

Counting the times I was fed between the bowls of horrible mash, I think I was being given five meals per day. Six if the disgusting yellow food was included and that was assuming Jess was keeping her promise of only giving me it once per day. The other meals all included lots of grains, bread and fatty meat, particularly pork and lamb. Everything was fried and swimming in butter or coconut oil. To drink, I only had a rich creamy milk or the fermented honey. On top of the huge meals, these always made me sleepy.

"How is you dream life?" asked Jess. I guessed that I was several days into my bizarre situation by this point and I was pleased that she had given me the opportunity take a pause from eating, if only for a few seconds, to answer her question. When I had tried to speak to her before, she chided me: "Less speak, more eat!"

"It is becoming easier," I replied with a shrug. "Although I still feel uncomfortably full much of the time."

"That is good," she replied. "That means you are eating enough to keep you full, but remember, we also want to make you fat. I think it is time to increase your portion sizes!"
I groaned, louder than I intended, and instantly regretted it.

"Oh, a complaint!" grinned Jess maliciously. "That means double mash tonight!"
I wanted to protest, but dare not; I just nodded
sadly.

"The village women are keen to see how much you enjoy my cooking, but they are not allowed to view you until the wedding day. Then they judge if I will be a good wife! You see, your fatness proves that I am able to cook well and provide good food."

"It is very good food!" I said. "But I never get out of the hut; all I do in here is eat and sleep."

Jess nodded looking confused. "Of course! That is the point of the Fattening Hut."

"Fattening Hut?" I knew I was there to gain weight, but hearing the building's name made my situation suddenly seem a lot more real. I dismissed the thought a ridiculous; I did not want to get caught up in a pointless debate about naming the building. Instead I continued making my original point: "Sometimes I just want to get out and move about a bit. I am going stir crazy here!"

"No!" shouted Jess, slamming her hand on the table. "No leaving the hut; no exercise!"

"But I..."

"No exercise!" she repeated more sternly. "And you argued with me! Tomorrow, you get mash for every meal!"

The thought that my next meals would total eight bowls of the mixture made me want to be sick, but I put down my head and began eating the last of the greasy pork steaks fried in peanut sauce that Jess had brought it. At least if I managed to finish this plate of food she would not add any more punishments.

"I am sorry for shouting, baby," said Jess after a few minutes. "But I just want you to get very fat as quickly as possible. That is why you only eat and sleep - it lets all of this food fatten you faster and then we get married sooner." She put her hand on my crotch and slowly moved it backwards and forwards, just enough to excite my member. "And after the wedding..." she pulled her hand away leaving the sentence hanging and me very frustrated. A frustration I took out on the food!

Jess watched with an excited smile as I ate the last of the pork and mopped up the remaining peanut sauce with a thick piece of bread, lathered with butter. Once I swallowed this I laid back and Jess began to feel around my stomach.
"Oh!" she said, sounding slightly disappointed, but I had come to learn that this disappointment was fake. "Your belly is so soft!"

"Because I am getting fat," I replied.

"Oh no! You are still my skinny boy! But your soft belly means you are not full yet; and I did promise to keep you stuffed!" She signalled to the chaperone who returned with a large cake, a pitcher of the beer and a pitcher of milk.

"This will fill those gaps," she laughed and immediately cut a slice of the cake, holding it to my lips. I opened my mouth allowing her to push it in, and an explosion of taste excited my tongue. All other cakes she had given me were very bland and grainy, but this was different. It was still heavy and stodgy, but filled with chocolate chips and heavily orange flavoured.

"You want more, baby?" she asked and I nodded excitedly. I had to wash down the cake with plenty of beer and milk, but it was such a welcome change that I did not want to stop eating it.

"I see we have a new favourite," said Jess with a wide grin. "I will make this more often."

Somehow, I managed to eat the whole cake and was so full that, once again, I was helped from the chair to the mattress and dozed off with the sound of the door being locked.

At some point later, I was shaken awake and sat up bewildered.

"Hi skinny boy," said Jess. "Time for your mash!"

I was hoping that she had forgotten her
punishment, but there was no such reprieve. On the table were two large bowls filled with the thick, yellow mixture. From the mattress, I could smell the banana and see the oil congealing beneath the dim bulb. I almost threw up on the spot, but knowing this would just incur further penalties, I dutifully sat at the table and began
to spoon the mixture into my mouth.

"These bowls seem bigger," I said in passing, hoping that the comment would not be misinterpreted as rebellion.

"Well, of course they are, baby!" replied Jess with a laugh. "You are being punished! I want you to feel ready to burst, yet still have to eat; I want you to realise that I am going to fatten you and you cannot stop it! Now, less speak; more eat!"

So I continued shovelling the mash into my mouth. I always tried to eat as much as possible with each spoonful and this meant the experience did not last as long. Whenever the taste got too much or my mouth became too dry from the grease, I took a deep drink from the milk or beer and started again. I managed to go onto autopilot for a while, but half way through the second bowl, I really thought I was going to die. I could hardly breathe and there was a pain in my stomach, sides and chest. I had to sit back and close my eyes, but Jess was not impressed.

"Keep going!" she demanded, but when I turned my head to look at her, she could see in my face that I could not take any more. She quickly rubbed my hands on my belly, squeezing slightly, but each press made me think my stomach was about to split like an overfull water balloon. Jess pulled up a chair behind mine and leaned forward massaging my belly.

"Let's make more room for you, baby," she whispered in my ear. "More room means more food and more food means more fat!"

Jess clearly had massaged a full belly before. She expertly relieved the pressure in my stomach and then encouraged me to keep eating as she continued the massage. Occasionally, she would pinch my expanding waistline and make excited noises.

"You are fattening so well, baby," she told me as I dropped the spoon into the empty bowl, almost passing out. The last thing I heard her say to me was:"I may soon stop calling you skinny boy!"