Chapter 1 - My desires matter naught

I'll give you what you want - what you really, really want.

Only what you wish for me matters now.

You want me beneath you, my belly domed toward the ceiling, you riding it expertly, your legs spread wide apart to encompass my growing girth. I am here for your pleasure, dear. Wrap those thighs about my gluttonous belly, and let your knees sink into my soft flab.

You desire that I be bruised and moaning, and so I am - bruised by your prodding me with your whip to more and more consumption of calories - excessive fattening foods which you push into me without ceasing. I am here to meet your desires, and I moan in pain and pleasure, the two now intertwined and no longer divisible by me. What you want is all I want.

You only wish that I bring to life your every fantasy, and I am here, willing to meet that challenge. Even stuffed until I hurt, I still open my mouth and allow your slender fingers to push cakes and chocolates into me. I am here to fulfill your fantasies. Just let me know what they are, and I will make them all come to reality.

That you want to do the same for me - to fulfill my every fantasy - is sweet but unnecessary. Only in the fulfillment of your dreams will I be satisfied. Not that my satisfaction even matters to me now, my Enchantress. I am a slave to you and your fantasies. Use me, and abuse me for your own pleasures.

You want me to eat eat eat like a little piggy! Too soon, that will be impossible because you are putting a belly on me that is rapidly growing massive. I don't wish to disappoint, but there is nothing "little" about the piggy you are turning me into. I submit to your whims, and I eat all that you bring to me - all that you force into me. I will oink and grunt and groan for every crumb of food you give me. I will consume all of it willingly, tempted by your fantasies for me.

You will enjoy every ounce, every pound, every kilogram of weight I gain, forcing me into a life of morbid obesity. You wish for my belly to burst the buttons from every one of my shirts. This I will do for you, the fabric is stretching across my bloated tummy, the buttons strain to contain it until "ping - ping - ping" the threads give way, and buttons pop. My belly will meet your desires, flopping out of its constraints, full and rounded - a huge ball of blubber for your enjoyment.

You desire then that we buy me a whole new wardrobe and start the process over again. I will submit to whatever humiliation you have in mind, shopping at store after store, trying on clothes too small, clothes which are snug, and clothes which are very loose - allowing room for future growth and future pleasures for you. I will come out of the dressing rooms and model for you any outfit you desire me to put on - masculine or feminine. Speedo swimsuits and three-piece suits with vests which I cannot button up over my belly. Or make me wear lacy lingerie or plus-sized bikinis, so you can turn me into a sissy-boy. I will allow you back in the dressing room with me, letting you me more and more fattening food as you observe my feeding in three mirrors.

You wish that I grow hard as a rock beneath all that softness which I am growing for you. And I have no way to say no to this. It is as you wish because you have so lovingly made me a partner in your desires. As your fingers slide beneath my soft fat belly, they feel how hard I have become for you. I cannot help myself. I am yours to take whenever you wish - and only then. My desires matter naught.

(continued)