Chapter 17 - sunday - part 1 - morning

It was the smell of bacon and pancakes wafting into the bedroom that roused her. That and the daylight peeking between the blinds. She checked her phone, and it was just about 7. She’d been out for almost exactly 8 hours.

Her head still felt fuzzy. She remembers that being normal with Ambien. She could hear him working away in the kitchen and turned to see how much she had left in the feeder. It was gone. He must have taken it away to clean it when she finished it. “Finished It! No way!” She thought to herself until the insanely stuffed sensation returned her to the reality of the situation. She reached down to feel it. The skin was ridiculously stretched to the point of itching. It felt like it was as packed as she’d kept it so far, but it felt like there was more of a soft layer between her hands and her packed stomach. Her hand ventured lower and met more belly than she was used to. Pleasure and discomfort began to wash over her again. Her belly sat as a distinct roll in a way that, a month ago, she would have to lean forward to the experience. A belly that hid when her full-term food baby pulled the skin back. Now, laying on her back, packed as full as possible, she had the beginnings of the belly she secretly always wanted.

She wanted to see the rest of the damage and started the slow process of getting out of bed and going to the bathroom. With each step, she felt herself jiggle more and in places that she hadn’t before. Getting up and walking around must have jostled her enough that she let out a monster, cheesecakey burp that just kept going. She relieved herself right after that and felt the pressure of her stomach dramatically slacken, which is when she looked down and noticed, simultaneously, that her legs were being forced farther apart from thigh fat, and her belly was resting several inches farther along with her lap. She cleaned up so she could get a better look at herself in the mirror. It was clear that the previous week's work had made its mark everywhere, but the gain had distinctly directed its focus at her belly, hips, and thighs. She was soaking at the sight of herself. Noting all of the changes, she imagined what the reflection might look like in just a couple of days. She blinked back to reality and saw that she was fingering herself while vigorously shaking her belly roll. Watching how it made the rest of her quake, she climaxed immediately.

Tingling all over, she thought about giving her husband a good f@^king before she packed herself too full to do so comfortably; take this new body for a test ride. She thought better of it, though, knowing that it would be worth it to wait until Thursday when she planned on taking a break from stuffing. After all, she had just made room, and the quicker she got back to stuffing herself silly, the more of her there would be to smother him with on Thursday. She was far from hungry but just thinking about that; she was starving.

He came into the bedroom when he heard the bed creak from her climbing back in. he brought with him a bottle of water, a plate piled high with bacon, and a plate with one average-sized pancake. He set the bacon on the side table with the water and handed her the pancake, already generously slathered in syrup and butter, with a fork.

Noting her perplexed stare, he addressed it with, “I’m making them to order. This way, you can eat them at a reasonable clip, but they will always be fresh. This is the first of many.”

She gave him an approving nod and just started in. She would wait to ask about last night when he was done making her pancakes.

He left to go back into the kitchen, then stopped, turned, and said, “Thanks for getting the groceries, by the way. I was just able to fir everything that needed to go in the fridge. I started on the dry goods, but we still need to make more room in the pantry for, what I assume, is a week's worth of snacks for you. As soon as I realized that there was no room, and it was all good to be left out, I just moved the boxes next to your desk. I figure as you make room for it, you can put it away.” Which was true, except for the part where he said he didn’t go through it. He guessed that she just got a repeat order from last week and didn’t realize that it had her stash of boost and weight gain powder in it still. He wanted to see if she would still try to hide it when she realized her mistake, and if she wanted it to be her little secret, he certainly wasn’t going to take that away from her.

Just before putting the bacon in her mouth, “Oh, thank you for doing that.” She downed the bacon strip in one bite.

He just watched her down it and wondered if she realized her blunder yet.

Clearly too focused on the food in from of her, but she went on, “So what we can do is, when you’re done with breakfast, you should come in here and sleep for a couple of hours. I assume you didn’t get much of it last night. And while you’re doing that, I’ll work on making room for everything in the pantry.” In a more playful tone, “It may be an all-afternoon project,” she said, giving a suggestive pat to her stomach, “but I should pitch in on the housework a bit and make sure we don’t have any stray boxes of groceries just laying about.”

“I don’t want to lean too hard on the ‘biting off more than you can chew’ pun that is just ripe for the taking, but that is quite the task you are suggesting,” playing along and trying to egg her on a bit. “It is possible, but it would probably eat up the rest of your day. If you think you’re up to it, I would really appreciate it. And I am more than willing to ‘help’ you get through it once I’ve gotten a bit of rest.”

“Sounds like a plan,” as she stuffed the last of the pancake in her mouth. “You should probably get on with these pancakes then. You look exhausted, and I am probably going to kill this bacon waiting for the next one.”

With that, he left and ladled a large pancake out, ready to get the caloric river flowing through his expanding wife again. When the pancake was done, he threw it on a plate, slathered it in half a stick of butter, topped it with syrup, and took it in to her.

True to her word, she put the last strip from the 2 pounds of bacon into her mouth. He put the new plate into her eager hands and took the dirties back with him onto the kitchen. For the next hour, he worked through the same routine. Take the old plate. Butter the pan. Ladle the batter. Wash the plate while it cooked. Flip pancake. Dry plate. Plate pancake. Slather in butter and syrup. Swap out the plate and start all over. Until he reached the end of his batter and was more than ready to turn in, he brought her the last plate, let her know that it was the last one, and took the dirty plate back with him. When he told her, she barely acknowledged him, laser-focused on stuffing herself, but also glad it was the last, as it would put her right at, if not a little past, her limit.

He went back to the kitchen, and she could hear him cleaning up in the background. She just blocked every sensation out of her mind and plowed through the last pancake. Despite the pain and pleasure, she still felt exhausted and didn’t want to keep holding the plate and chewing (she was grateful that they were fresh, warm pancakes each time). She was ready to bask in the fullness. Her body still tingled, and pleasure signals were still exploding throughout her body. She finished the last bite and was relieved to be done. She set the plate aside and took another sip of water to wash it all down. She then just closed her eyes, rubbed the skin over her engorged stomach with her bacon greasy hands, and a mellow bliss lap over her in constant recursive waves.

She stayed in this state for what felt like hours. He came by and kissed her on the cheek, kissed her full belly, showered, and passed out in the bed next to her. Feeling the moment wash over her again and again, perfectly content.