chapter 9

When Stephen started to find walking difficult because of his sheer size, I decided it was time to let him go.
I put the light on first and I watched on camera as he sat dazzled and bewildered.
I unlocked the door and was hit by the stench of his excrement and unwashed body. It was not something I had expected to encounter, but then again, I had left him with no bathroom facilities at all for over a year, so it should not have been a surprise.
I retreated to my camera room and called upon my staff to clean and disinfect the filth in the cellar before I ventured forth once more.
I loved having staff to do my dirty work for me. I had not always been able to afford it, but I was still winning big prize money body building competitions... without the effort, without the attention to detail. It was easy.
So I employed staff to make my life even easier. I had my own stylist, who attended to my entire wardrobe and saw to it that all my clothes were clean and freshly ironed. I had my own chef who cooked my meals. I had a maid who kept the house clean and a gardener.
There was not one chore I had to do for myself. I didn?euro(TM)t have to train either, so I was free to party whenever I liked.

Once I was given the all clear, I opened the cellar door and ventured down the stairs. The smell of pine fresh disinfectant hit me this time. It was much more pleasant!
Stephen was sitting on the sofa, looking very bewildered. My staff had given him a spruce up too, but had not been able to find any clothes to fit him. His torso and his legs were covered in a sheet to keep his dignity.
That torso spread out across the sofa almost filling it. His freshly shaved chin lacked definition between his fat cheeks and his fat neck. His chubby, flabby arms flowed over his elbows and led to chubby forearms and thick stubby fingers. His flabby fat breasts rested on the rolls of fat around his middle and they rested upon his massive belly that hung down between his spread eagled knees almost to the floor.
He said nothing, but his eyes never left my beautifully muscled, tanned figure.
I teased him, for getting so out of shape in such a short time.
Then I turned to the easel that held my framed photograph. It was covered in a moth eaten blanket. I pulled the blanket off with a flourish to reveal my picture.
But it was not there.
I looked over to Stephen and noticed that in his chubby hands he had a folded up piece of paper. He unfolded it to reveal my bewitched picture. In it, I looked twenty or thirty years older. I was almost bald and as big as Stephen was now. My skin was darker, with lots of skin spots and a leathery like texture from all my sun exposure over the years. I had open sores on my face and hands. I was truly ugly.
As I looked at the picture in more detail, Stephen started to pull his hands that held it in opposite directions. The fragile paper started to tear under the tension. The tiny tear became a rip.
I implored him to stop! He did not know the consequences of his actions.
But he continued.
The photograph was torn into two halves and then quarters. I felt like a man watching his own death, waiting for it to happen...