Chapter 2 - ch 1 - just 12 lbs? cont

"It's just 12 pounds."

"12 pounds!" I say, more than a little shocked. And more than a little excited as well. I quickly calculate in my head: four sticks of butter in a pound, so that's like 48 sticks of butter -- so much fat -- added to you. Two pounds a week! At that rate by Christmas --

You interrupt my devious calculations.

"I don't know why you should be surprised, Natalie. You have been feeding me pretty well since I moved in. You make such delicious meals and such great baked goods. Like I said, it's just 12 pounds."

"That's too much. I feel guilty about indulging my fetish at your expense. I love to cook, and I figured a little food play every now and then wouldn't hurt, but you are eating so much - too much to please me. You're starting to get fat."

"You want me to stop?" you ask, looking a little puzzled. No way I can hide from you.

"No. Uh, yes. Well, the logical part of me wants you to be healthy and stop before you actually get fat. But my libido finds the notion of fattening you up so hot, I definitely don't want you to stop -- at least not yet."

"I don't mind it, really."

"Well, you should mind."

"Why?"

"B ecause it's unhealthy. You know what a fitness nut I am! I know all the dangers of overweight and obesity. I shouldn't be trying to make you fat."

"If you want me to go to the gym, I will. It's only 12 pounds after all." You look so cute to me in that moment, your blonde hair shining and your eyes twinkling. You would do anything for me, and I know it. That's the main part of my dilemma: I don't want you to do what I want -- and yet I do.

"Oh, you are so sweet," I smile at you, watching your long lashes flutter in the early morning light.

"You know, Natalie, in most relationships, the girl would be upset if her guy were getting pudgy. She would make him go to the gym to keep himself attractive to her. What we have is much more decadent that that."

"Yes, I want to send you to the gym and put you on a diet -- for your own good. But going to the gym might make you less attractive to me now that you've grown such a lovely little potbelly. I am sorry about that and so ashamed of myself."

I place my hand on your soft starter love handle, and you twitch a little at my touch. I look down at my hand, then back up into your eyes.

"No need to apologize," you say. Then, you wink at me with a flirty expression. "That's what makes your fetish such deliciously forbidden territory. Go ahead and fatten me up some if you wish. There's absolutely nothing wrong with it."

"But you will be worse off - less fit and healthy - for having been my boyfriend, for having lived with me."

"That's my choice. I know the risks. You're not forcing me to do anything. I only want to please you."

"I don't know what to do," I mutter and look away. I push my dark long hair out of my face. "It's such a hard choice."

"Look, I know my fetishes and kinks give me a lot of pleasure, and you're enjoying them as well. You like being a top and tying me up, and I love the bottom, all bound and ready for your pleasure. All lovers should be so lucky. But I like being fed by you. It's not that difficult a choice at all."

"I don't know."

"Maybe we should negotiate a contract."

"What?"

&q uot;Let's make an agreement about this, how far to let this go, and just do it. I know you would find so much pleasure if I were to gain , say, another 12 pounds or so." Your words make me tingle between my legs. "And I would really get off on pleasing your desires so much."

"Okay, let's talk about it, but first a shower and some breakfast - nothing too fattening for you, Charles, until we make a contract." I laugh as we get out of bed and head for the bathroom.

Later in the shower, I reach out and touch your soap-slickened belly, contemplating what another 12 pounds of you will feel and look like.

(chapter 2 - coming soon)