Chapter 2 - part i

Four. Hundred. Pounds.


That's how fat I had become. The dreaded four-zero-zero. In following Kate - I mean, The Madame's exploits, I saw patterns. And of those patterns, one of the most consistent seemed to be that 400 pounds was the barrier. The point of no return.


Little known fact, but some of her victims actually lost weight and escaped her influence. But never anyone under 400 pounds. Once they hit 400 pounds...they were hers.


So I guess I'm hers. Or rather: theirs.


See, it turns out that Kate had accumulated quite a following. The Madame's changing appearance in the various reports, I had always attributed to her adjusting her style and look to appeal to her targets. But the truth is: there were many Madames.


Kate assures me, however, that she's the original. And I have no reason to doubt her. The others all follow her lead and obey her commands without question. In fact, since falling to her devices, I had seen one of her slightly thicker followers balloon by at least fifty pounds. She had been caring for me during the day while Kate did whatever it was she did. But when a much thinner lady took her place, they would only tell me my former carer had been reassigned.


I was kept in bed most of the day, moved to the couch in the evening, then returned to the bed late at night. The only exercise I got was walking between the couch and bed with restroom stops in between. And that's exactly what they wanted. I knew that if this kept up, I would lose my mobility relatively early in the fattening process.


To be honest, it wasn't difficult to succumb. I had shelter, food, a bed, entertainment. I was set for life. All I had to do was surrender my body to her and let her shape it as she wished. And dare I say, she was doing a marvelous job.


Complete lethargy had left me soft and rounded at all edges. I was a marshmallow, a cloud, a comfy bed at the end of a long day.


My ass was nearly planetary in scope. Two celestial bodies crashing into each other, fighting for dominance whenever I walked. My belly barely kissed the top of my thighs, even while standing. Eventually, it would smother them. I sat in bed, kneading my belly as I considered this. As if asking it to show kindness in its unrestricted expansion.


It gurgled in mockery, groaning in annoyance. It twisted my insides to remind me who's boss and I began to whimper. The pressure bubbled against my lungs and pelvis and struggled to find an escape. I slowly pushed into my lower belly and released a rumbling expulsion of gas into the room.


I panted, exhausted from the exertion. I had tired myself out by farting. This was my life now.


This was the downside of my intense diet: A constant flow of food entering my stomach and before my body knows what to do with it all, the next countless-calorie-course is brought to me. The only way my body can make room is to dispel the gas such a dietary regimen produces.


There was a quick rap at the door before my evening caretaker, Laurie, entered carrying a tray of doughnuts stacked upon each other in a pyramid and balancing a thick, off-white shake. Must've been 5:00pm.


"How are we doing today?" she asked, cheerfully, with a sweet, British accent.


"Great," I replied, sarcastically, grabbing and jiggling my belly for emphasis.


Laurie sniffed the air, then fanned her nose. "Oh my! Someone's been eating well!" she said, proud. "Smells like you're ready for more."


She set the tray down beside my bed and plucked a doughnut off the top of the pyramid. She moved it to my lips and I didn't hesitate to bite into it. I'd probably weigh a lot less by this point if I didn't have a history of trying to resist. There were consequences for resisting, and I had suffered them all. Besides, the food was delicious. Now that it was out of my control, I wasn't so hesitant to embrace it. I only played coy so the Madame's waitresses (as I had taken to calling them) wouldn't know just how much fatter they could make me if they wanted.


While chewing the first bite of the first doughnut, another fart tumbled from my ass cheeks, reverberating against the bed and mixing with the air of the room.


"Good girl!" Laurie shouted, knowing that I had just made more room for the remaining doughnuts. "Let's get these down so we can start moving you to the couch!"


A few minutes later, I was slurping puddles from an empty cup through an empty straw, finally releasing the tip with my lips. All the doughnuts were inside of me, floating in nearly a liter of shake. I whimpered from the fullness. It was a feeling I associated with getting fatter. I had come to enjoy the pain. It meant my body was changing, adding new acres and avenues to explore. I was growing to occupy more space. I was becoming unignorable.


"Are you ready?" Laurie asked.


My eyes still closed, I nodded and held out my hands. We locked fingers and I began to shimmy to the edge. I was able to let go once I was in a seated position on the side of the bed. I took a moment to catch my breath and heaved myself to my feet. I began the arduous journey from the bed to the couch and Laurie followed behind.


I entered the hall and saw a couple of waitresses hustling about. They stopped when they saw me and pressed their backs to the walls, as if we were on a ship and the captain had just come on deck. I leaned a little sideways to squeeze past them and felt my entire fattened form press hard and brush against both ladies. I nearly popped out from between them and continued my waddle down the hall.


Some days, I took this opportunity for a bathroom break to clear my stomach and prepare for the onslaught of food in store for the remainder of the evening, but with Laurie and the two waitresses watching me, I was too embarrassed and kept walking on by. There was a growl in the pit of my belly, as if it was telling me how much I'd later regret not taking the opportunity. But it didn't have to remind me. My brow was stinging with sweat because I already knew.


I positioned my bulk in front of the couch and lowered myself like a helicopter to a landing pad. The weight of my ass pushed deep into the cushions and I leaned back, settling into the groove my growing body had carved out.


There were already plates of calzones and sliders on the coffee table, but waitresses were adding more dishes to the fray while I rubbed my belly nervously. Truth be told, I was excited for the evening meal, but I knew exactly what it meant. It meant that I'd be going to sleep even fatter than I was when I woke up that morning. I was conflicted. I was excited. I was terrified.


I was hungry.


With my thumb and index finger, I pinched a fried mozzarella ball from a mountain of fried mozzarella balls and popped it into my mouth, moaning as my teeth tore it apart, my tongue dancing with ribbons of melted cheese. I had popped another two into my mouth before I realized I was chewing three of them and was about to toss in a fourth.


The waitresses continued to remove and replace dishes with little interaction. I assumed these were newer recruits, instructed not to communicate or make eye contact with the boss's prized hog. Just keep her fed.


It helped not to think of them as equals. Whether I considered them above or below me, I honestly couldn't tell you. However you looked at it, being on separate levels made it easier for me to vent the pressure in my belly when I needed to. If they were above me, it was expected. If they were below me, then it wouldn't matter anyway.


Though I couldn't help but blush when I noticed one or both of them grimace from the smell when approaching me. It's a kneejerk reaction and I can't truly blame them for such a response. By the time they'll have proven themselves to The Madame, they'll be completely accustomed to the aroma of fatties.


Speaking of The Madame, not long into the evening meal is when Kate usually comes home. And this night was no exception.


I heard the door open, the security system giving off a couple of beeps, and the steady, deliberate steps of an approaching predator.


"Mmmm," she moaned. "Smells like a pig in here."


I swallowed my current bite and watched her enter with anger in my eyes.


"Aww don't look at me like that, kiddo. You wouldn't be as fat as you are if, on some level, you didn't want it."


I returned my gaze to the meal before me and continued to eat.


"Why even take the case?" she prodded. "You had been waiting for someone like me to come along. Someone to remove personal responsibility from the equation. Someone to take away your choice in gaining weight. Someone you can point to and say: 'She. She is the reason I am so fat.' Admit it. You've been after me for a few years, but you've been looking for me your whole life."


I once again made eye contact with her and leaned forward. Without breaking our stare, I farted loud and deeply.


Kate smiled her devious smile. "Good girl," she said, barely above a whisper.


"Ladies!" Kate announced and three waitresses approached. Two went to either end of the coffee table and lifted it to set it aside. The third dropped to the floor in front of me and got on her back. I watched her slide beneath me and the couch with some sort of device in her hand.


"What are you doing?" I asked nervously, trying to look around the clothes-stretching rolling hills of my enormous body then looking up at Kate, the mastermind of it all.


"We're going on a little ride!" Kate explained.