chapter 24: at the party

And I do, I do have fun. It's a party after all, I'm meant to have fun. Jeanie and I have a few drinks, we enjoy the company of our coworkers, at one point Jeff angrily demands we drink a round of tequila shots, and of course we do, and then do again, and all in all it's actually a really good night. These people are my friends, work friends, but still friends, I really had been worrying about nothing wondering if they'd judge me. After all, it's just a little extra weight, it's not that big a deal. I'd been worrying about nothing at all, and realizing that feels good. It feels good to be out, among people, it feels good to be social. It gets me out of my head, let's me relax a little. I really ought to do it more often.

At some point shortly after midnight, I excuse myself from the conversation about work I've found myself in and step outside for a moment, to get a little air. I may have let relief at the fact that I can still fit in among groups get my guard down, a little, and I may be a little drunk. It's not the worst thing in the world, I just need to breathe a little, let the summer night sober me up a little, and rally.

I lurch out into the yard, then around the side of the house, my hand on the wall to steady me, and for a moment I fear I might be ill, but when I open my mouth what comes out instead is a surprisingly loud belch.

"Oh, hey!"

Whoops.

"Oh, hi Kyle, sorry, thought I was alone out here. Came out for some air. I may not have needed that last tequila shot."

"Dude, I know the feel. I don't know if I needed either of them. Jeff does that, though, he's always gotta push a party overboard, you know?"

He fumbles around for a cigarette, puts it in his mouth, lights it, then offers me the pack. I shake my head, I quit years ago, and he shrugs.

"Anyway, it's fine, just avoid the crowd for round of shots three and four, then rejoin later, right?"

"I mean, not the worst plan." I laugh, and Kyle does too, before reaching out and patting my belly playfully.

"And really, maybe tequila's better for you than beer at this point, hey?"

I blush, and laugh again, more nervously than before, but it really isn't something I can readily deny. Instead I joke...

"Hey, what's a hundred fifty pounds between friends?"

Kyle gags, which launches him into a coughing fit, and by the time he recovers enough to ask a follow-up he's incredulous.

"A hundred fifty? Holy hell, dude, what have you been eating? I mean, I know you got fat, but..."

"I don't know, it just kind of happened, you know? I've been working out every week, but it's hard, and dieting's hard, and no matter what I do I keep gaining weight. Like, my appetite's out of control, and the dreams..."

"What dreams?"

And maybe it's how well the night's gone, or how many drinks I've had, but I tell him. I tell him everything, about Paul, and Jeanie, and my new tattoo, I tell him about how much time I've spent eating, and how aroused eating makes me, and how small I've gotten, down there, and how I can't... I can't seem to say no to people, anymore, how when someone tells me what to do... I can't.... I can't find it in me to say no, as if I at some point lost that part of myself without even realizing it was happening. And through it Kyle is silent, listening, staring at my bloated belly and rounded tits, as though lost in some private thought he isn't interested in sharing.

"Huh," he tells me, when I finally finish my story, "so you can't say no to anyone? Like, about anything?"

"I mean... maybe? But it's so hard, now, saying no to people, and it feels so good to obey... makes me hungry... turns me on..."

"So, for example, if I were to tell you to get out of your clothes, back here..."

I go beet red, squirming and trying to maintain some measure of composure at the question, but I don't reply. I know I should, but I don't. Kyle smirks, my non-answer all the answer he needs.

"Strip for me, pig, let's see where the weight's gone on you."

"Kyle," I tell him, "come on, this isn't funny, you've crossed a line..."

"Do it, pig." He tells me, "Strip."

And, god help me, I do. I peel off my t-shirt, my belly hanging out in front of me, my tits sagging to either side, the night air cool on my skin, then step out of my pants and panties, blushing, my tiny dick and big, thick nipples hard in the night.

"Holy shit, dude, I can't believe you actually did that. Just because I told you to? And what the hell happened to your body hair? You were furrier than this at the Christmas party last year. Did you get it waxed?"

"No... Maddix took it, he used some kind of cream, when he tattooed me..."

I turn, so he can see my new tail, mostly healed, and Kyle laughs loud enough that they have to hear him inside.

"Oh wow, you really ARE a pig, aren't you?"

"Oink." I blush, naked and humiliated and aroused, and as I do my stomach rumbles.

"You hungry, piggy?" Kyle leers.

"Yes, sir..." I tell him.

"Good. Then let's waddle your fat, pig ass back into the house and fetch you something to eat. We'll see if Jeff has any of that tequila left too. Leave the clothes here, you won't be needing them."

"But..."

&qu ot;Shut it, pig. We're going inside to get you fed, and that's an order. Now move."

And I do. And by the time morning comes and it's time to go home, my clothes are nowhere to be found...