Easter feast

Chapter 4 - pets belong on the floor

I storm into the living room and place myself directly in front of you. Bashful, you peek up at me, struggling to hide a nervous grin. “What did I say? I believe you were to be at your placement, on all fours, correct?” You giggle under your sleeves. “Y-yes…” I clear my throat. “And I see you didn’t do as I asked. Neck. Let me see your neck.” You move your chubby arms out of the way of your face and I wrap and lock your collar on. “Now…you will do as I say.” The click of the leash being attached gets your attention and you sit up for me obediently.

“Pets belong on the floor.” I yank lightly and your stout body practically gives in to me dropping to the floor. “Walk.” I command.
I turn away from you, leash in hand tightly, leading you to your special feeding rug. “Good little bun…” Your hands and knees are met by a soft cream colored rug. You look up at me, eyes red and dull from being high and drunk. You pant like a damn dog for a minute and flop your torso over so you’re in a half assed sitting position. “Good. Now wait.” I head back to the kitchen to fetch your slop. I grab a wine cooler as well to ensure you’re still tipsy. As I enter the living room I look to see you still sitting there exactly how you were. However, the buttons of your onesie strain from being overstretched and pulled. I just KNOW the middle button is ready to blow. I stare at it, mouth agape thinking about how I will get every single button to pop.

You stare back at me and then down at your button. You goofily tug trying to get the gaps to close but all I can see is your soft belly through the holes. You stop trying to fix it and lean back in a teasing manner. “Oh, you’re going to get it.” I march the ceramic trough over to you, place it on the rug, then tug your leash down forcing your head near the trough. “Now eat.” I command. “Today is a holiday. That means you need to eat extra for me. I want at least four of those buttons to pop off with your blubbery gut exposed.” You bow your head down and into the trough adding more of a mess to your face, chin, and neck. “More.” I demand. You wiggle your rotund ass happily and chow down. I sit at the edge of the couch watching you stuff your fat face for me. My eyes fixated on your belly as it hangs nearly touching the ground. The folds of the fabric slowly becoming flat as you expand with every mouthful. I can’t take it any more and ache to feel your heavy body. I step back over to you and kneel on my knees wrapping both arms around your middle, measuring it with my hands. “Oh, you ARE getting full…” I rock your heavy swollen gut back and forth and listen to your whimpering. “Does it hurt yet? Are you too full already?” I smack your ass and listen to your cries. I shuffle over behind you and check how fat your behind is getting. I stuff my hands between your fat belly roll and your hips. “My God, I might have a multi-award winning prized hog here!”

I wobble your ass cheeks around then stand again. “Someone might think I’m trying to…fatten you up.” I whisper into your ear. Your eyes widen and you instinctively eat faster, slopping thick sauce and cheese further up your cheeks. Then I hear it… “Pop!” I reach underneath you and feel your middle. “Oh….good pet. One button down…” I tickle your stomach and you giggle and wiggle trying to evade it. I slide my hand up your onesie to see how much more the fabric can take. It's tight, your belly stretching it to the max already. “Eat.” I demand again and you continue burying your face in slop. I hold my hand to your gut and can feel the weight of the food pulling your center down. You burp and groan and I hear the stomach churning and grumbling from getting far too full.