chapter 2 - phase one

When I returned home later that evening, I found Amber passed out asleep on her back with cookie crumbs sprinkled across her body. My personal pig had recently developed a habit of falling asleep in the middle of her meals and, based on the half-eaten chocolate chip cookie laying on her gut, that night was no exception. Walking up the stairs towards my master bedroom, thoughts raced through my head about everything that had transpired. I wasn’t sure what game Emily was playing, but I didn’t have to wait long to find out. When I awoke the next morning, a text was already waiting for me on my phone.

“For phase one, you need to get Amber pregnant again. And make sure she’s still gaining weight.”

I felt my stomach turn in knots as I reread the letters on my screen again and again. Emily had commanded me to put another baby into the obese 23-year-old girl currently sleeping on a bare mattress in my downstairs guest bedroom. As I contemplated my wife’s command, I reflected on the significant ways Amber had changed during her first pregnancy, I couldn’t imagine what Amber would look like after another nine months of hormone-induced growth. Over the last year I had watched in disbelief as my slightly chubby and somewhat timid secretary transformed into a massive and shameless beast concerned only with food and sex. When I watched Amber hungrily slurp down the seven bowls of cereal I made her for breakfast later that morning, I felt a flicker of fear of what was to come.

But none of that mattered.

Even as I continued sleeping with Emily on the side, I couldn’t keep my hands off Amber’s body. While Emily had certainly grown into a large and perfectly sculpted idle of womanhood, there was something much more primal about my cravings for the helpless slob living in my guestroom. Shortly after the birth of our twins, Amber’s unending desire to consume anything and everything brought her weight back over 450 pounds. Immediately following the birth of the twins, a part of me had almost hoped that Amber would slow down her calorie consumption, but such hopes were quickly dashed as my monthly grocery costs continued to climb.

When Amber was hungry, her massive stomach would roar like thunder as a deep and angry noise filled the room. The second I placed her meals in front of her, Amber would immediately tear into whatever I had brought her. She would seem so calm in one moment, but the second her nostrils caught the whiff of food, her demeaner would quickly change and her behavior would turn aggressive. There was never a hint of hesitation as she crammed morsel after morsel down her hungering maw.

The displays were so ghastly and yet, oddly erotic. I’d find myself growing increasingly aroused as I watched the mother of my children wipe her greasy hands on her belly flesh in between eating and chugging soda. Amber would proceed to belch 15 times as she tried her best to alleviate the sudden pressure in her stomach, but by that point I would only have one thing on my mind. I couldn’t control myself, and as soon as Amber was ready for sex again, we went right back to fucking three times a day. We never used protection and I made sure my hips were pressed firmly against her as I shot my seed straight into her fertile body.

Four months after her delivery, our doctor confirmed that not only was Amber up to 470 pounds, but she was once again pregnant with my child. This time around, however, the doctor recommended that Amber stay on permanent bed rest due to her weight. Little did she know that Amber had practically been on bed rest for nearly a year.

Amber didn’t seem to react in one way or the other when the doctor told us the news and honestly, I don’t know if she even cared. After all, she wasn’t the one taking care of her children, I paid for someone to do that for her.

When we got home, I sent a text to Emily confirming Amber’s progress. Not even two minutes later I received her response, a short four-word sentence that said simply read:

“Time for phase two.”