Chapter 8 - evidence

The next few months were even happier than before. It felt so sexy to call Max her fiancé. But when Max had proposed, he had been deadly serious, starting to make arrangements pretty much straight away. He was so happy, he was fussing and pampering Meg even more than usual. But as Meg looked in the mirror, she started to worry about what sort of shape she was going to be in at her own wedding.

She looked back at pictures of herself from two years ago, before she had got involved with Max, remembering fondly how slim she used to be; back in the days before she sweated so much in the summer heat and dreaded putting her socks on in the morning.

These days, her stomach was so bloated and round, even her friends were starting to forget to invite her on nights out. It was like a huge balloon had been inflated under her clothes, whilst two growing boobs were starting to hug it from above.

She looked at an old photo of herself wearing a t-shirt she had bought on her trip to Vegas with an ex-boyfriend. She hadn't worn in it so long and doubted it would even get much beyond her cleavage these days. However, she wondered from nostalgia whether it was still somewhere in that closet.

Meg searched, even straying on to Max's side of the closet in case anything had ended up there. Her foot kicked a box of stuff Max still hasn't unpacked and she bent down a little awkwardly to look inside. Max was such a neat freak; she couldn't believe he still had some things which hadn't been tidied away.

In the box, Meg could see a range of old sports trophies and newspaper clippings from high school. She felt tired just reading about all Max's athletic achievements; although it came as no surprise that he had been such a typical high school jock. She pondered for a moment, thinking how little she knew about Max when he was younger.

Meg searched deeper into the box finding nothing of much interest. Then she looked at all of the junk in the huge pile she had created on the floor, exhausted at the prospect of tidying all his stuff away again.

Only one thing of interest caught her eye: a blank, featureless DVD case. She opened it up and saw the title of the movie inside: "BBW babes".

Meg chuckled realising that it must have been an old porn DVD of Max's back before the love potion and she would have ignored it entirely had she not been intrigued by the initials 'BBW'. What did that mean?

Sliding over to her laptop, Meg placed it inside and waited for it to load. What she saw made her eyes pop.

Large breasted, fat-bellied girls paraded on the screen, next to fit, handsome guys like Max, who were touching them all over. One guy was pushing cake down the throat of a particularly obese girl, rubbing her belly with delight as she greedily swallowed it for him. "Nice and fat," he was whispering; grabbing a large roll and shaking it, overjoyed with how fat she was. "Open wide for me," he ordered, slotting in more cake. "There's a good fat piggy!"

Meg pulled the DVD out, shocked by what she had seen. Is that what turned Max on before they met? She thought back to the very few women she had ever seen Max with, realising how overweight they always seemed. She didn't even know Max all that well when she had gone to Madam Azarov and asked her for the love potion; nobody did really. He kept himself to himself. Had he had some kind of weird fat girl fetish?

Meg tried to clear her mind of the disconcerting thought, looking at pictures of her and Max together on their recent holiday. They looked so happy together. But as Meg clicked through, she noticed a strange pattern in most pictures. In her hand she was always holding some kind of food. Anyone would think from looking at them that Meg hadn't stopped eating the entire holiday. Then again, had she? She looked hard at the image of beautiful Max, staring into his piercing brown eyes. Was he deliberately trying to overfeed her?

Meg scrolled through more, noting how affectionate Max was towards her in public; his hand always delicately placed on her rather wide behind, or else resting possessively on the furthest point of her growing tummy.

That was the moment that Meg realised what she had done. She could make a hot guy love her, but she couldn't stop the kinks coming along for the ride. Her body was testament to that.

Meg stared at herself in the mirror, realising that she was no different to any of the woman Max used to jack off to. Max's pampering and fussing over her wasn't the love potion, but a planned and calculated effort to get what he wanted. She could see, with disgust, that she had been deliberately fattened and fed like a prize pig.