Chapter 5

I got up early the next morning and got a bag of 10 breakfast burritos and a stack of hotcakes from McDonalds. When I got back she was still sleeping. She awoke as I was tyeing her arms to the bed posts. “Good morning pork chop, I have a big day planned for you. You're never going to look the same, so I hope you were serious about wanting to be fattened.”

Her head was still cobwebby as i took the first burrito and held it to her mouth. “Eat.” is all I said.

She obeyed. I put on the radio and fed her rhythmically in time to the music. She made it through 5 burritos and the hotcakes. I patted her belly and told her what a good job she had done. It jiggled a little bit, and I patted it like a drum in time with the song while she chewed. Then i pulled out the other bag and saw her eyes get big. “You're half way done now butter ball, I hope you have some room left.” She swallowed and looked at the bag and then at me.

“Im already stuffed.”

I told her I knew that she had plenty of room left after her showing yesterday, and to make the point I put an old belt around the middle of her belly and tightened it up. It made an indentation in her fat as it constricted her mid section. It squeezed her tighter and tighter with each bite, and after a few burritos she was having a hard time breathing. I kept on feeding her until she was in obvious discomfort. “I only have one left....I'll take the belt off you if you finish it now.” She nodded and breathed a deep breath. I released the belt and fed her the last burrito as “pour some sugar on me” came on the radio. She panted to catch her breath. I stuck my finger in her navel and remarked “It's a little deeper than it was yesterday. Pretty soon you'll be able to keep your keys in there.”

I asked her if she wanted to do anything in particular today. She told me that she was going to need to catch her breath before we did anything. I picked up her pink shirt from the day before and threw it to her. She told me that she had brought more clothes, but I wanted her to wear her old shirt. It squeezed her mid section more tightly than before. “I never wanted to live like a pig, I just want to be fed like one.”

I told her that I had plans for that shirt, and besides, it was getting a little too tight for her to wear out anymore. We sat on the couch together watching the Saturday morning show and talked. We actually had a lot in common. We had similar college experiences and had both studied biology. We discovered that we had a few similar interests and talked about some of the travel we had both done. After about an hour of talking on the couch (which seemed like 15 minutes) I told her that I wanted to take her to the store and let her pick out her menu for the rest of the weekend. She declined my offer though, citing her lack of comfortable pants. I agreed that I would pick up a new pair a few sizes larger while I was out.

When I returned it was lunch time. I checked my phone quickly. I had 5 missed calls. A few friends had gone out the night before and left me messages in various states of drunkeness. I turned the phone off. This awesome girl drove in 3 hours to spend the weekend with me and I wasn't going to devote my attention to anyone else at that moment. It was nearing 1pm, and she had had about 4 hours to let breakfast settle. I prepared a big glass of chocolate milk, took out a 20 ounce coke and picked the box of donuts for her lunch.

I brought everything to her on the couch. I set everything down, and got a pair of scissors. I made a small cut in the middle of her shirt below her belly button and she looked at me with confused eyes. “What is this all about? I thought you wanted me to wear this today.”

“i do want you to wear this, you'll see what I'm doing. I think you're going to like it, and I can afford a new shirt for you if you want.”

I picked up a donut and held it up. She knew what to do, and I fed her for a while. After about half the box of donuts had been consumed a small tear developed, running upwards in her shirt. She drank down the milk and I picked up a crème filled donut for her. It smeared a little on her face and i licked off the little bit from her cheek. She giggled. I kept on feeding her donuts and occasionally looked down at her shirt. The tear was creeping up slowly, but surely.

After the last donut, she laid back and her shirt, stretched to it's limits, tore open up the the level of her breasts exposing her swelling middle. “How did you know it would do that?” she said.

“I saw how much you swelled up yesterday, maybe you need to look in the mirror again.”

I need to eat something myself I thought, and had a sandwich. The food, plus the lack of sleep from the night before caught up to me and I fell asleep.