chapter 12

12.
“Quit it!” I scolded playfully, slapping Abram’s eager fingers away from my chest. We were already ten minutes late for boarding. I sat on the side of our bungalow bed struggling to get to my feet. It was the morning after the party on the Iilha de Banha, and Abram had made sure we took our time before getting back to the grind of cruise life.

“Mmm, but how could I resist such luscious breasts?” Abram purred, tipping me backwards. My stomach muscles were pitiful compared to all the weight I was carrying, I fell back and felt my fat slosh. Abram looked at me from above, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

“My beautiful fat whale.”

Before I could protest further Abram was on top of me, sucking my nipples and pinching my love handles. I gasped, even after a week of fucking non stop I hadn’t gotten used to how sensitive they were.

“We’re late!” I moaned, my lover’s skilled hands working my shaft. Abram chuckled.

“What, are they just going to leave their captain on this remote island? Please, I haven’t gotten enough of you, I want to fuck you on the private beach!”

I rolled my eyes as Abram rolled me to a sitting position. Since I had come out of the milk induced haze he had hardly taken his hands off me.

---

After the night Abram had declared me ‘ready’, I was officially weighed.

“300 pounds!” Abram chirped with glee. I felt the opposite of him, but didn’t let it show on my face. My knees and ankles ached just from standing, I ran out of breath within minutes of walking, I constantly bumped into things. Yet for Abram, I was perfect. When I heard the number though I couldn’t help but wince. That cocky, knowing look was on Abram’s face again.

“You realize it too, don’t you?” I raised a brow.

“You were at 150 when you boarded, 176 before the milk regimen. Now 300, well 302 to be exact. I’ve done it.”

“Done what?” I asked, voice trembling though I had an idea what his ‘goal’ had been.

“I’ve doubled you.”

I swallowed uneasily, not knowing how to feel. I could tell how Abram felt though, his member stiff and leaking through his pajamas. Within minutes he was fucking me again, which foreshadowed the next week well.

I could honestly say the next seven days Abram and I spent together before the island party were some of the best of my life. To my surprise, there were no more hours-long gorging, no liters of fattening liquid pumped down my throat until my stomach hurt. The meals were big, Abram called them, ‘maintenance meals’, but after eating for a family of four for months they practically seemed normal.

Abram was insatiable in the bedroom. He would get aroused from the most seemingly non-sexual things. Me not being able to bend over to tie my shoes ended with him ripping my pants apart and fucking me with spit lube right on the floor of his control room. One day I tried walking up a set of stairs after pleading with him to not make me use the wheelchair. I managed it, but not before I was reduced to a red faced, sweaty mess. I had barely been led to the beach chairs before he was blowing me under a blanket. One night he tried having me put on my old set of clothes. The dress pants hardly crested my thighs before halting. A quick loss of balance had me squatting to stop myself from toppling over, and of course the pants split down my crack, Abrams cock following not long after.

It was a blur of sex, alcohol, and food, and most of the time I was having a blast. This was riches, this was the lifestyle of the elite. And yet one thing continued to upset me. The mirror.

I was mortified every time I stepped foot in front of one. I would trace the lightning bolt scars that ran along my middle, armpits, even my thighs weren’t spared. The figure looking back at me seemed like a different person, I couldn’t accept it just yet. I had literally doubled in weight, it was like two of me forced into one skin, and the scarring was evidence. Everyone connected to Abram congratulated me on my transformation, some even joined in in our lovemaking. Paula delighted in pinching and poking me. They told me how beautiful I was, how well I wore the weight. I felt like the only one disgusted with myself.

One day I felt hands on my shoulders as I looked on in the bathroom.

“You’re taking a while love, is something the matter...?’ Abram said, kissing me on my cheek. He had started adding in nicknames like that recently. As time went I heard less, ‘pig’, and ‘fatty’. Now ‘honey’, and ‘baby’ were thrown in with equal measure. Abram’s smile fell as he saw where my index finger was tracing. One of the many scars that littered my gut, the frown on my face unmistakeable in its feeling.

“Every one of those just makes you that more beautiful to me.” I turned, face red. I was tired of his obvious placating.

“For you and your crew, sure. But to me and everyone on land I look like a fatty who couldn’t control himself.”

I sighed, and looked back to the mirror. Abram frowned as I lifted my arm, revealing the web of marks under my armpits. I turned back and forth, examining the bulges around my hips, my mounded breasts. I didn’t know if I could ever accept it. Instead of slapping my wide bum or pinching my nipple Abram surprised me. He wrapped his arms around me and laced his fingers in mine. He kissed the back of my neck.

“I’m sorry.”

My eyes darted open. Abram had never apologized before.

“I got impatient. I saw how you were growing and couldn’t stop myself from pushing you. We did take it a little far, you have every right to be mad. But-”

“A little?” I shot back, grabbing a fistful of belly for emphasis. Abram blushed. He turned me around and took my smaller hands in his. Despite all the added pounds, as I looked up into his dark eyes I felt small.

“Well, a lot. But I want you to know I’ve grown attached to you. I’ve never had something like this. I know you probably have family looking for you back home, but I never want you to leave.”

My mouth dropped open, the force enough to jiggle my chins. Somehow, I had gotten this man to love me? Was it early on, when I was so obviously thirsty for his manhood? My subdued attitude as I swelled? Was my fattened form that good in bed? I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I couldn’t say no. What came out was much more personal.

“I don’t- I don’t have a family anymore.” A tidal wave of emotion toppled any restraint I had. I fell into his arms, crying into his chest. That day there was no sex, all he did was cuddle me and run his fingers through my hair.