It would start slowly. You would convince me to quit dieting after a few months of dating. Seeing me repeatedly slip back into old habits was cute, but I would be even cuter with some extra lard on my belly.
Then, one day after work, you would have me relax on the couch while you pampered me and suggested I find something more sedentary. The gas station is nice, and I come home with snacks every day, but you hate seeing me moving around and wasting precious calories.
Then, we would start going out for weekly buffet trips, and you would watch me stuff myself while wearing a too-small shirt, which of course reveals the soft pale skin of my belly. Soon, you would start teasing me for my belly, and patting it in public, just quickly enough that no one would say anything.
But when we got to the car my seat is reclined all the way so you can unbutton my pants and watch my belly spill out. On the drive home you can reach over and play with my belly all you want.
When we get home, you'll watch me struggle to make it up the stairs to our bedroom and smile because you know you can humiliate and control me all you want and there's nothing I can do about it.
1 month
