chapter 1

I’ve been a bad, bad girl.

You push me onto the bed then use your hand to hold me down as you reach for the handcuffs. I know I deserve this.
Now attached to the bed by my ankles and my wrists, you leave the room. I hear you thudding down the stairs and walk through the house. The front door shuts. It goes quiet.

It could be quite easy to panick in this moment, but I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. In and out. In and out. In and out. Innnnn and ouutttt. After some time, I start to relax. I drift off... I’m awoken abruptly by the sound of a car alarm going off. It makes me jump a little which reminds me I can’t move my arms and legs. My heart starts to race... I look down at myself. What was I thinking wearing shorts and a vest in the middle of autumn. I’m cold. Fuck. My legs are all goose pimply. My arms are aching a little from the position they’re in. I look up at the ceiling - it’s so white. I scan the room looking for something to occupy my brain with. I notice the loose change on your bedside table. 1-2-3... $3.63. I stare back up at the ceiling. I’m fucking freezing. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I close my eyes again and start to think about lying on a beach, the soft sand under my small frame, the sun beating down on me.... ahhhh.

SLAM. You’re back. I don’t know if you’ve been gone 10 minutes or 2 hours. I hear you wander through the house again. Your keys making a sound every other step. And then nothing. No sound. Have you forgotten I’m up here???? I hear you moving again. You start climbing the stairs. Thud. Thud. Thud. As you get closer to the top I start to hear your heavy breathing. It’s not easy for a man of your size to move your body.

You walk into the room, don’t look at me and pick up the chair that lives in the corner. You place it at the base of the bed and as you turn to sit in it I see what you have in your hand. A giant chocolate fudge cake. And a fork. On a plate. You still haven’t looked at me once. You rest the cake imbetween my spread eagled legs on the bed and take the spoon in your hand. Shoving it deep into the cake you scoop up a giant piece and before you put it in your mouth you look straight ahead into my eyes. You push the whole thing into your mouth not losing my gaze. You’re not smiling. Or happy. You’re deadly serious. For the next 10 minutes I stare at you completely in silence and watch you devour most of it. There’s a small amount left and you say ‘See.... if you’d been a good girl today, I would have given you this last little bit, but naughty girls don’t ever deserve cake’ you throw the spoon down and pick up the remaining piece with your hand, shoving it deep into your mouth. Letting me see how full your mouth is. You groan as you eat it.

You lean back in your chair and rub your belly through your T-shirt. I’m wet. Very wet actually. Watching how easily you ate that cake and then seeing how big your belly is...... After a couple of minutes you get up and throw the chair to the side of the room. Standing right at the base of the bed, you fling your braces down off your shoulders, pull your T-shirt off and let your pants fall down. Then you just stand there. Fully naked. Staring deep into my eyes. I go from looking at your body to back to your eyes about 50 times in one minute. Look. At. You. The way your belly spreads out and hangs down. The way your belly button looks so dark, deep and inviting. The way you present your upside down heart. The way your giant fat filled moobs rest above your belly. I’m aching to feel your softness in my hands. On my body.

You see the way my lips part and you know it’s working. You carry on rubbing your now exposed belly and slap it causing it to ripple. You grab it from the bottom and squeeze it, massaging it slowly not taking your eyes off me. You carry on playing with your belly fat with one hand. With the other you take your left moob and lift it in the direction of your mouth, you start tongue-ing your own nipple. It’s rock hard. I can feel my fouff start to pulsate. It’s throbbing for you. Like it’s calling your name. You grab your belly with both hands and shake it hard. Moving towards the bed, you come to my right side so I can get a closer view of your belly ‘I feel so soft today, I’m definitely fatter’ you tell me. You take a finger and lightly caress my lower leg ‘You have goose pimples, are you cold?’ I know I’m not allowed to answer. So I just stare at you. ‘You know, if I lay on you I’m pretty sure my fat would completely cover your body like a blanket. I’m really warm’ you shake your head. ‘It’s a shame you don’t deserve that’ You get as close to me as you can without me being able feel you against me and bounce a little to shake your belly ‘so much fat’ My heart rate increases, I breathe faster.... fuck. ‘I’m thirsty’ you turn and leave the room. I watch as you walk away.... completely tortured by how much I need to feel you against me. You’re gone a few minutes, thudding through the house. I feel every thud in my fouff like a heart beat, a reminder of how heavy you are and I just get wetter and wetter. You come back in to the room with a glass of iced water. Suddenly I’m so thirsty. You stand there and drink the whole glass pushing your belly out as you do. It’s time to crank the torture up. You walk back over to my right side and grab your belly with both hands. Being careful not to let it fall, you slowly start to drag it lightly across the side of my chest, stomach, hip, thigh, calf.... I bite my tongue so I don’t swear as I take a deep breath in. You are a fucker! You step away and let it fall, as it ripples i buck my fouff up into the air willing for it to crash right into me... I’m starting to get fidgety... my whole body needs you. You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met. I’ve never been so turned on in my entire life.

You move back to the base of the bed and pick up the chair. Sitting down you huff. The effort of what you’ve just done was a lot. Taking a second to breathe you continue to look me in the eye. ‘This is what happens when you really piss me off. You gave me no choice’. You can see me writhing and in all honesty, seeing how horn crazed I am massively turns you on. ‘What do you have to say?’

‘I’m really sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I won’t do it again.’