chapter 6

Sylvia made sure that Tom was not tempted to do anything he did not have to do. She did all the cooking and cleaning and other household chores herself and made sure that Tom was so bloated that he could not even think about getting up to help her. She made sure he always had some food within his reach and in her book there was no such thing as a healthy snack.
He was outgrowing his clothes every month. Yet every month, he ate more and became even more lazy.

She did not forget her side of the bargain, though. Points meant prizes, so she had to make sure he got his prize every week.
She taunted him around the house by wearing short skirts and low tops. She often found some little speck of dust on the floor around him that needed picking up. she would bend over, making sure that he got a good view of her pert arse or buxom loveliness.
At the end of the week, she would treat him by sitting on his legs and massaging his distended belly. Every new stretch mark gained him another point. She made sure he had the best sex he had ever had.
But then came Monday morning. The slate was wipes clean. He had new targets to hit. More points to earn and he only earned points for doing as he was told by eating to excess. She was always moving the goalposts, making it harder for him to hit his targets, but he was determined to hit every target she game him.

He was no longer interested in other girls. He was not interested in the new temp. All he was interested in was more food.
His male friends were concerned for his health. They had watched him grow. They had seen him burst out of his clothes on more than one occasion and they did not consider it to be a pretty site.
When they met him on a Friday night he weight gain from just the week before was often noticeable. At one stage his buttocks would barely cover the barstool, now his buttocks overflowed the stool by a good two or three inches. He had once had a flat stomach. Now it protruded out and hung down over his trousers and rested on his genitals. He had noticeable breast tissue that was bigger than many a female chest and he had roll upon roll of fat around his middle.
Even his hands and fingers were noticeable more pudgy than they had once been.

It was not enough to sit at the bar, drink a pint and make it last for an hour or two. He would drink ten pints in a night. Every other pint was accompanied by a cheese toastie or a large packet of nuts or crisps. Then, while they waited in the queue for a taxi, he would order a three takeaways. He would probably have consumed two of them by the time the taxi arrived.