chapter 4

The next several months had been like torture to Evelyn. Her captor had fed her like never before, forced her to gobble down unbelievable amounts of food, stuffed her belly full with cheap, greasy, tasteless slop. Every day she'd been forced to eat without pause, every night she'd cried at the pain in her stretching stomach.

Yet that pain had not been the hardest thing for her to bear. What hurt her and tormented her more than anything had been the disappointment she saw in her captor's yellow, predatory eyes. He was no longer gentle with her. He no longer showed her any tenderness or kindness. He no longer cared for her like he once had.

It'd made her so miserable. She'd wanted so badly for things to be as they once were. She'd wanted him to touch her, to gently stroke her, to take pleasure in her swelling body. Though she'd known it was madness she'd longed for his touch, longed to feel his breath on her body, to feel his strong fingers dig into her soft, naked flesh. She'd had to get him back, had to get him to trust her again, nothing else had mattered.

And so, one evening, when he'd already filled her stomach to the point where she felt as though it might burst, she had turned to him and, holding back her tears, asked:

"Please, could I have a little more?"

From then on she'd forced herself to eat more than ever. It hadn't mattered how much her stomach had ached, how sick the food had made her. It'd been the only way she could think of to win back his trust, his love.

Once again tied to her king-sized bed Evelyn's body had exploded with fat. Spreading in all directions as she constantly gorged herself. She could feel as the extra pounds settled on her, weighing her down whilst her strength faded. Looking at her naked body she saw a landscape of soft, pale flesh, marked everywhere with deep, white stretchmarks. She could no longer see past her wide apron of a belly. It'd been so long since she'd last laid eyes on her feet, her legs, her... Since she had last gotten pleasure out of anything but food.

As the months had passed and Evelyn had swelled the beast had slowly started to, once more, show her some hints of kindness. He'd started to feed her real food again, the kind that made her mouth water, and from time to time, as the pain in her tummy made her groan, he would rub it and tell her how well she was doing. Then, though her stomach ached and she could barely breathe, she would find herself truly content. She lived to see him smile, to feel his fingers on her flesh, his eyes admiring her vast, shapeless figure.

One evening, after Evelyn had forced her way through an especially tremendous feast, her captor had rewarded her with a gift. He'd left her for a short moment as she digested the vast amounts of food she'd just consumed. Upon returning he'd brought with him a wide mirror that he'd leaned against the wall of her cell.

"Look," he'd said; "This is you. This is who you are now."

So many years had passed since Evelyn had last truly seen herself. Though her body had grown the image she'd had of herself in her head had remained unchanged. Thus she had not immediately recognised the horrified woman staring at her from the other side of that mirror. Her captivity, her obesity, had taken from her all those features she'd used to know herself by.

Her body had been a vast ocean of shifting rolls, resting one atop the other. Her natural, slender, feminine shape hopelessly lost under vast reaches of quivering flesh.

The contours of her face had been equally hidden by fat. Her cheekbones, her jaw, and her neck were nowhere to be seen. Her eyes, once vibrant and wide, had looked so small as they sat in the middle of that round, heavy face. Their gaze was dull, vacant and weak; she'd seen in them no hint of the fire they'd once held.

The sight of her bloated body had disturbed and fascinated her in equal measure. Could that monstrous, featureless pile of blubber really have been her? Looking at her captor as he regarded her reflection Evelyn had seen, upon his beastly face, a look of pure, animal desire.

"You are mine now," He'd said, leaning in towards her, putting one arm round her vast shoulders, the fingers of the other digging into the soft, defenceless flesh of her drooping belly; "mine to do with as I please. Do you understand?"

Looking at him, her eyes wide, she'd nodded.

"Please," she'd said; "it's not right that a young woman should waste away in a cell like this, never knowing love or, well... So please, would you kiss me. Would you... Please, I want you."

At that he'd smiled at her, his lips parting to show his sharp, white, dagger-like teeth.

As he'd gone down on her, causing her body to jiggle violently, she'd let out a loud moan.