chapter 12 big appetite

I knew that my life changed forever, the day I let Lesley take control. If she asked mr to bark like a dog, I would do it for her, with pleasure. So when she told me to eat, I did so happily.
I woke up ravenously hungry. I could not demand to be fed, but that was what I wanted. I was so hungry I would have begged to eat scraps from her table on my hands and knees. Luckily, it did not come to that. Before I even got out of bed, she gave me my first large shake of the day.
It was a big glass, filled to the brim? I had to hold the glass with one hand and support it with my plastered arm. The liquid was too thick to be sucked at politely with a straw. I was hungry. I wanted it all now! I put the glass to my lips, tipped my head back and began to pour. I took in huge mouthfuls, I opened my throats as wide as it would go, trying to pour it directly from the glass into my stomach. Little rivulets of the liquid escaped the glass and the side of my mouth and dribbled out of the corners of my lips, down my chin and onto my chest, but I continued as if I did not notice and did not care.
Once I had drained the glass, my hunger was temporarily satiated. My belly felt comfortably rounded. The shake made me feel bloated and heavy, yet, if there had been more shake to drink I would have drank it!I was under no illusions. I knew it was drugged. There was nothing natural about the hunger I felt when it took hold. If Lesley had not provided me with food, I could not have ignored the hungry feeIing I got in my belly. I would have eaten the bed linen and the wooden bed post if I had to!

Luckily it didn't come to that. Lesley always anticipated my ravenous cravings and was there to feed and guide me.
Having Lesley wash and dress me was an embarrassment, but I soon got over it. The quicker she could get me ready, the sooner I could have breakfast. after a meagre five minutes of drinking the shake, the hunger inside me was taking hold.
I still felt the heaviness in my belly from the shake. I had not started digesting it, yet I craved more. Again, Lesley was ready for me with a large cooked breakfast, swimming in a thick layer of fat. If she'd given me a whole pack of lard, I would have tried to eat it.
My head started to get fuzzy at this point in the day. My thoughts were dulled and dominated by hunger and food. If I was not eating, I was thinking about food. If I was doing neither of those, I was asleep.
The meals I dreamed about were enormous plates of meat with a thick layer of fat. Served with crispy fried chips with melted butter dip and a thick greasy gravy. I saw endless desserts, sprinkled with sugar and served with copious amounts of cream. I anticipated what that cream would taste like when it touched my tongue. It could be smooth, rich and thick like double cream, or it could be light and fluffy and melt in my mouth like whipped cream. The feeling of ice cream started like the whipped cream, but was dominated by the cold sensation. Then once it warmed, there was the smoothness of double cream.
Cream combined with the caramelised crunch of sugar was another dream. The anticipatory taste of a chocolate sauce on top of that could bring me to an orgasm, even in my sleep!
In my dreams, nothing stopped me eating. My appetite was endless. In reality, my stomach stretched and swelled to accommodate what I put into it. Within an hour of waking, my belly stood proud of my body and was accompanied by the pain of being overful and I would drift off to sleep. When I woke, the cycle began again. There was no escape. I didn't want to escape. I was on an endless conveyorbelt of pleasure followed by more pleasure. Why would I want anything different?