Chapter 5

I nodded somewhat shakily. I wasn’t exactly agreeing with her, but I was entranced by her description. My chest felt heavy and I found myself slumping in my chair as though I could already feel the weakness creeping through my muscles, warming me like a blanket.

“Something hard – like walking up that hill? – will wipe you out, leave you unable to catch your breath. Forget any real exercise. You won’t be able to do it. I imagine you attempting to exercise with your fat jiggling and flopping beneath your clothes... in minutes you’re completely exhausted, soaked with sweat, red-faced and gasping for air with your heart pounding in your ears. You’d do anything to avoid exercise, not wanting to do anything that would require any effort on your part.” She tilted her head back in thought. “Well, in short, that’s how I want you to be, give or take. That’s the goal. We’ll find a level of unfitness that’s sustainable for you so that we can both enjoy your laziness for a long time. However it turns out, it’s going to be quite a change for you. Your lifestyle will change to make you lazier, and your body will change to help keep you that way.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I was fascinated. Not so much about the idea of getting so out of shape, but the fact that she really did want to mold me and shape me into a form that would be pleasing to her, even if it was a detriment to me. I loved that. While I didn’t yet share her passion for laziness, I was intoxicated that she wanted that for me. For so long I had dreamed of being controlled and molded to fit someone else’s fantasy. It seemed inevitable that this was going to happen. I was trapped by my own desires. “Please. Oh, please...” I wasn’t sure what I was begging for: to make her stop or to make her do it to me.

“But be aware that things are going to get even harder for you as you continue to put on weight. Your poor shape may not affect you too much now, but once you have thirty or forty or more pounds to carry around you’re going to slow down a lot. You won’t be able to escape it. It’ll be with you always and everywhere, weighing you down It’ll be a burden as you get heavier and more out of shape. Everything will take more and more effort. It’ll make you want to be even lazier and stay off your feet even more. But that will make you grow even fatter,” she said. “It’s a beautiful cycle. I can’t wait to see you caught in it.”

I had to bite the fleshy part of my finger to keep from moaning.

“And, you know, with that diet and your total lack of exercise, losing weight’s going to be impossible. Everything you gain from now on is going to stick around for a long time. Maybe forever. Even if we decide you’ve gotten big enough and don’t need to gain anymore, what you’ll have gained won’t be going anywhere. No weight loss. You’ll be stuck with it.”

That time I did moan. One of my biggest fears about gaining was that I might find myself unable to lose the weight if I found I didn’t like it. Perversely, it was also one of my biggest fantasies. I dreamed of being unable to lose weight which I’d willingly gained, of being stuck with it like she said. It turned me on incredibly to think that even if I didn’t like it, I’d have to learn to live with it. It made no sense that an idea should at once be so repellent and so attractive. Fetishes were funny things, I supposed. I had told her something along those lines before, that I kind of liked the idea of not being able to lose weight. Now she was using it against me and I was loving it. I couldn’t remember ever being as aroused as I was right then.

“Of course, it’s not like you’ll never be able to lose weight or get back in shape. But it’ll be hard, an uphill battle. It’ll be harder the bigger and more unfit you get, and the longer you stay that way,” she said. “It’ll be so much easier not to try. Easier just to remain my out of shape, out of breath, weak and lazy fatty.”

“Yes,” I said, surrendering.

After a moment, she quipped, “My braless fatty, even.”

I burst out giggling. Much of the tension was instantly relieved, but none of the urgency. I was squirming in my chair, desperate for release. I was breathing hard as I gazed at her. It seemed like I’d be doing a lot of that in future – breathing hard, that is.

“Shall we retire and... consummate our arrangement?” she asked.

“God, yes, please, anything. I’ll do anything you want.”

“To tell you the truth,” she said as she stood and helped me up, “you may be the best thing that happened to me in a long while. Though... I might be the worst thing to ever happen to your figure.”