chapter 6

Jackson has a surprise for Mallory, his pretty, growing girl. He bought her new clothes about a month ago, after the intensive week of gaining, and they are almost comically small on her already. Her belly has started to sag, making her round pot belly less pronounced. Stretch marks appear seemingly by the day, mostly on her belly, but a few sprinkle her growing thighs as well. Her breasts are still firm, not yet in proportion but growing.

Because she has grown lazy, Jackson allows her free reign of the room. When she does deign to remove herself from the comfort of her bed, she has a distinct waddle, the product of a rapid gain in weight and girth that her body could not adjust to. He enjoys watching her; she jiggles all over and pants quietly when she has reached her destination. Most of all, though, he likes her belly when it's completely stuffed. It had been fun before, when she was skinny and first in his charge, because it looked almost unnatural, bloated and straining against her flat stomach, and he knew what would come. Now, it's different. When she's completely full, there is still a liberal amount of fat beneath the bloat of her belly, that he likes to tease and tickle.

When she reaches 200 pounds, Jackson takes her from the house. He gives her modest clothing -- yoga pants and a sweater -- that fits her well, if not loosely. The yoga pants cling to her thick thighs, and he cannot help the way his eyes constantly pull to them. Her belly grumbles as he leads her up the stairs; her cheeks are red by the top and she's out of breath.

Smirking, Jackson places a hand on her belly and gives it a shake. "This is getting in the way, huh?" he teases.

"Shut up," Mallory grumbles, mouth twitching into a smile of her own. "What are we doing?"

"I'm taking you out today, and you're going to be good, right?"

"Whatever."

- - -

Mallory feels fat walking up to the building. She has no idea how much she weighs, because Jackson never tells her, but she can feel it. Every part of her is bigger, almost like a balloon, but different than when he forces so many shakes into her belly that it looks like a balloon. It's fat that's making her feel this way and she knows that, but it isn't her fault -- it's Jackson's.

The scent of food hits her as soon as they step inside, and Mallory's stomach growls. Several rows of lamp-warmed foods sprawl out in front of her, and her mouth starts to water. She hasn't eaten since she got up, which was hours ago. The waitress guides them lazily to a table, and Jackson kisses her cheek before nudging out a chair for her. They are the only ones in the restaurant, and she watches him peruse the buffet.

Jackson returns with two plates of food, one crammed with food and one more modest. Mallory does not have to be told which is hers. She tucks in immediately, eating at the pace she has been taught. Some time ago, he had explained to her that she had to eat quickly, so that he could get more in her, without resistance; if she ate slower, then her stomach could tell her brain it was full before Jackson was done. Once, he had allowed her to eat at the pace she had preferred, and eating as much as he required had been hellish. So she took the path of least resistance.

Every so often, Jackson disappears and then reappears with more food. Mallory eats whatever he places in front of her, uncomfortably aware that someone must be staring at her -- a girl that had quite literally waddled in stuffing her face across from a tall, fit man. She eats more to distract herself from it. And then there is no more food for her to reach for. Her fullness hits her all at once, and she hiccups, leaning back and cradling her belly. Jackson arches a brow at her from across the small table and smirks.

He stands and comes to stand near her. Giving the appearance of taking up her glass to refill it, he sways toward her slightly.

"You'll eat one more plate, and then we'll go."

The yoga pants have stretched with her bloating, but the sweater has ridden up to reveal an inch of her belly. Mallory groans. The hostess walks by, eyes wide, and another girl wears a sneer. Blushing, Mallory looks down. But it isn't her fault. Jackson made her this fat; he forced all this weight onto her and he showed no signs of stopping. So why should she care what they thought?

"Okay."

He brings her two, and when she's finished, they both know that she cannot take another bite.

"God, she can really eat," someone says as they head for the exit.

Mallory suppresses a groan, unable to turn around, with one hand placed on her back and her stomach jutting forward. Jackson chuckles. "That she can."

With his hand over hers, Jackson leads her back to the car. For a split second, she thinks about running, but there is too much food in her belly. Even walking makes her out of breath (more so than usual); she wouldn't make it very far.

Inside the car, Jackson turns the air conditioning onto her, and she pants, trying to rub the ache from her tummy. He reaches over and places a large hand on her belly, but instead of shaking it like she thought, he rubs it slowly.

"You did so well in there, Mallory," he praises. She presses her thighs together, which is easier and more beneficial as she grows. "My good, growing girl." His touch grows firmer, pushing, and she whines. "This is going to look small, by the time I'm done with you."

- - -
A/N: sorry this took so long; i started writing at least three times, but lost it every time. I'm also thinking of perhaps bringing another girl into the mix, either in another installment or a continuation of this one. Please give me your thoughts on that! As always, if you have a particular fantasy you'd like to see, leave it in the comments or shoot me a message. I aim to please.