Chapter 12 - Bliss

As romantic and loving as Marz was, it was undeniable that the man had a mission to complete. He turned up the pleasure settings in Emily’s cerebral cortex to new extremes, ensuring that she gorged and ate everything that was presented to her. Telling the time of day became an impossibility. With no natural light down there, the feelings of disorientation made it hard to reason about anything at all.

Emily began to feel that there was more communication going on than she had first expected in the seclusion of their bunker. Perhaps her status and weight gain was under constant review, updating her family back home in a mission to extract whatever they needed from them. Sometimes Marz would pick her up and carry her effortlessly in his enormous arms. Was that when he did it? Was that when he weighed her? Was he happy with what he saw? Was he hitting his targets?

Sometimes Marz would insist on pushing the eating even further. He referred to these times as his ‘stretch sessions’, when Emily was challenged to eat beyond the point of feeling full. He said that these were very necessary as a stomach capacity training exercise, and he was on hand throughout with sprays that he would administer into Emily’s mouth to ease the discomfort. His large hands also seemed to emit something genuinely soothing as he rubbed the extreme bloats; round and round. He offered words of comfort and praise, peppered with sexual stimulation throughout. Then, when Emily felt that she could take no more, she’d cliamax and fall asleep; a deep sleep, no doubt induced by Marz; staying that way until the discomfort subsided.

In the weeks or months that this continued, Emily felt pounds and pounds of extra flesh being added to her body. It was so warm and humid in the bunker at times that they rarely covered themselves with clothing. Every few hours, Marz would sensually massage a special oil into her body, rubbing those strong hands up against the plush new skin and concentrating in particular on those areas of the body that were swelling up the most: her tummy and chest, her enormous butt, the tops of her legs and upper arms. Marz would grab those blubbery areas and jiggle wickedly, sometimes making Emily orgasm at the same time.

“You’re such a good piggy,” Marz would remind her over and over again. “You make this so easy for me,” he would smile, gently stroking Emily’s chubby cheeks.

“I like making you proud,” Emily would reply; usually between chewing whatever was being pushed into her mouth at the time.

“You’re going to be my masterpiece,” Marz smiled, staring with almost awe at the blossoming obesity that had now taken over Emily’s body: the giant swell of her large stomach, the sagging of her previously perfect breasts and the width of her once pert little buttcheeks.

So Emily ate and swallowed whatever she was given. She’d never known bliss like it. This was the perfect, erotic existence.

Heaven.