chapter 12

When Dylan woke up, he couldn't move. He struggled, feeling something tight around his wrists and ankles. He was strapped down and fought the urge to panic or fight. Delilah had drugged him. Where was she?

It didn't take long for his question to be answered. He heard a door open and then a soft giggle that had once made him so happy. Now it only filled him with dread. All he could see was the stark white ceiling above him until she walked into view.

"What is this?!" he spat out.

"Well, you didn't give me much choice, did you?" she said.

At first he'd hoped that maybe she'd been trying to stop him from leaving, to protect him, but no. That didn't make sense. Where had she gotten the drugs from?

"Are you working with him?" he asked.

"With who?" she asked.

"HIM!" Dylan exclaimed. "The man in the mask!"

"Oh, baby, there is no man in the mask," Delilah said and Dylan's blood ran cold. "You were so easy to fool."

His mind reeled. It was all her. Everything had been her.

"So why toy with me?" he asked. "Why do all of this?"

"Oh, I wasn't toying with you," she said. "No, I wanted you to love me. I needed to be with you."

It didn't make sense. She had done all of this to him, forced him to do everything all under the guise that she had been trying to help him.

"I don't get it," he said defeatedly. "I don't understand. Why like this? Couldn't you have just found someone willing?"

From what she had told him about her previous online activites, willing participants wouldn't have been that hard to find.

"No, that wouldn't do," she said. "I wanted you to love me, but I didn't want someone to do it willingly. I guess it is all a bit twisted... but it's time for breakfast."

Dylan couldn't fight her as she forced his mouth open. He still felt a little weak, probably from the drugs. He gagged as she threaded a tube down his throat but there was nothing he could do. He tried to plead with her around the plastic but he could only murmur.

"Shhh, don't fight and this will be easier," she said.

She said it like she cared. Maybe she did. Maybe a small part of her did but it wasn't enough. Dylan had to get out of there. He didn't know what to do.

He heard a flip of a switch somewhere near his head and then, all of a sudden, felt the tube begin to cool as thick liquid moved through it. It didn't take long before he felt whatever concoction she was pumping into him begin to fill he stomach. He began to panic. What if she didn't stop it? She'd pushed him too far before but he'd had input then. She'd had an image to maintain. Could it kill him?

Then again, maybe they'd come too far already. He doubted she'd get rid of him that quickly.

Before long, Dylan began to feel sleepy. There was something in that liquid. Was she just going to keep him drugged and pumped full?

For the next few hours... or maybe days... Dylan drifted in and out of sleep. Whenever he was awake, he was full and the machine rarely seemed to be off. Sometimes he could barely think due to the pressure in his stomach. He thought he needed to stay conscious, until he realised that wasn't going to do anything but hurt him.

One of the times Delilah turned on the machine, he was fully conscious.

"I'm going to try something different today," she said as the liquid flowed into him. "It's a different formula. I want you awake for this one."

As he began to feel his stomach fill, the sleep never came. Delilah wasn't drugging him. Dylan thought it may have been his chance but there was still nothing he could do. Instead, he just lay there, strapped down as more and more liquid was pumped into him. Within what felt like minutes, he felt the familiar pang in his belly. It was a feeling of fullness he was much too used to. He knew most people would have stopped eating at that point but he'd always pushed himself further so he wasn't too worried.

Still, the liquid continued to flow. A few minutes later and the pain began to get worse. He struggled against his bindings again, groaning around the tube. He could see Delilah smiling above him.

He tried to beg but it was no use. His belly felt tight as it slowly inflated with whatever mixture she'd been giving him. It hurt. It really hurt.

Just as he started to think that he might actually die or pass out, there was a beep above him and the machine shut off.

"Don't worry," Delilah said as she wiped tears from his face. "You wont die. The machine wont let you."

With that she left him to deal with the constant ache from his full belly. To his horror, after around half an hour, after he'd digested a little of the liquid, the machine beeped again and started up for a few minutes. It did this continually, turning off and on in response to Dylan's fullness.

Eventually, he drifted to sleep out of exhaustion.

The next time he awoke, he knew some time had passed. Delilah looked different when he saw her. He hair was longer. How long had he been out?

It was impossible to tell. She'd been drugging him, he was sure of it. His head was foggy. It took him some time to realise that his mouth was empty. The tube was gone. He was starving.

"Morning, baby," she said sweetly.

Dylan shuddered. He tried to reply but his voice was well out of practise.

"Come on, sit up," she said. "It's time for your weigh in. Then you can eat."

At the mention of food, Dylan's stomach growled loudly. He felt himself blush and cursed his body.

Delilah grabbed his wrists and pulled hard. His bindings were gone. Dylan thought about running but that was never going to work. He could barely move his body. He'd been inactive for too long. Well, he hoped that was the only reason. He had no idea how long he'd been out for. How much had she fed him?

To his horror, as he sat up with Delilah's help, he realised he must have been out for a few months. He looked down at himself and his eyes widened in shock. He wasn't just fat any more. He'd been chubby, then he'd been fat. He'd even started to worry he'd gotten too fat to snap back to his old body but this was something else.

He felt like a blob. His belly was gigantic. He looked like someone he'd seen on television at one point who needed assistants to help him get around the house. Delilah forced him to stand up and Dylan nearly felt his knees buckle. He only just managed to stay standing.

The scales were about ten steps away and each one felt near impossible. He waddled over slowly towards the markings on the floor.

He didn't even want to look at the reading but he had to. He had to know. Dylan felt hot tears roll down his cheeks when he saw the numbers. He weighed 514 lbs.

Delilah gasped in delight when she saw the reading.

"Oooh, you're going to get the best breakfast of your life!" she said. "Go sit down."

She left him to make his way to the table. Dylan sat down gently, genuinely worried that the chair was going to give way under his weight. It creaked loudly, but held him.

When Delilah wheeled in a trolley laden with more food than he'd ever seen, Dylan felt sick. He needed it. He wanted to devour it all. There was no way he'd be able to manage all of it though. Then again, if she'd kept him full for months... how much had that affected his capacity?

Delilah brought the trolley closer to him and started to place plates in front of him. Dylan didn't wait to dig in.

Delilah just smiled.