Let's play

Chapter 2

Another month into Cris' gaining endeavor, Connie had him in checkmate at the coffee table. "Yaaaaay!" she squealed, once her victory was declared. "Now you have to do what I want! Now get to the bathroom, I wanna see!"

"Y-y–" Nervously, he swallowed.

He'd promised her another ten pounds before the month's end, but now, he was worried he had failed to make quota. Curse his anxious nature…he was the one who'd roped Connie into his desire for these power-games in the first place. But nowadays, he worried about what the papers would print when celebrity chessmaster Cris Sisco started blowing up like a balloon. Worried about pleasing Connie. Worry, worry, worry; it was all he did anymore.

And yet, in his internal panic, he somehow found comfort in obedience. "Yes Mistress," he finally finished saying, before removing himself from the board to head to the restroom with Connie close behind.

He nudged one foot out of a shoe with the opposite heel, then the other, and stepped on the scale. Began to look down. Chickened out and averted his eyes. "I can't look! Will you read it for me?"

At the start of all of this, he'd been an underweight, neurotic thing, 140 pounds barely giving substance to his 6-foot frame. Despite his desires to truly balloon, it had taken meeting Connie to grant him the permission. She stuffed him diligently, and despite his fast metabolism, twenty pounds soon crept up on him, rounding out his once-hollow cheeks into a healthier visage and even padding his middle with a comforting handful of pudge. But he needed more, and he knew Connie wanted it. She was, after all, used to dating much heavier men.

"Lemme see here…oh, wow!" she exclaimed.

"What does it say?"

"177!"

***

Cris had by no means achieved obesity yet; in fact, if he were to simply size up his wardrobe, nobody would be any the wiser about the starter pooch that had gathered at his waist, growing rounder by the day, the soft swells that were becoming of his chest, his budding set of love handles that had finally grown enough to be squeezed, and the inch of supple flesh coating his once-visible ribs. But as Connie watched the needle of the scale move up and up through yet unseen heights, she couldn't help but get wet at the thought of his dedication.

After the weigh-in, she led him to the bedroom. She kissed him gently on the lips and said, "Seventeen pounds in this little time is a real accomplishment! I think my good little butterball has earned a reward. Wait on the bed for me, baby. I have a surprise."

***

Obediently, he sat down on top of the sheets.

A mechanical whir sounded from somewhere beyond the open bedroom doorway.

"Connie?" he called, beginning to shiver with anticipation. "What are you doing out there?”

“Well, you told me the other week about that thing you wanted to try, but I’ve been meaning to save it for one of my victories? Mostly because I bet it can get pretty intense, and I wanted to try it the nice way first, before the mean way. Wouldn’t wanna overwhelm you, now.”

There were so many things he’d confessed to her that he wanted to try, each more depraved than the last, and she wasn’t giving him many hints. It wasn’t until she walked back into the room that he realized which of his fantasies she planned to entertain. His cock stood at attention in his lounge pants.

In one hand, she held up a blender jug full of a mixture he by now knew well. She often made him her chocolate milkshake when she decided he’d earned a special treat. Every time, his mind raced with visions of her keeping him guzzling the stuff nonstop, but perhaps there was a reasoning to her method, and it was better that he look forward to the occasional extra indulgence, rather than grow bored with it. Tucked between her elbow and her side was a glass of plain water–a necessary precaution–and in her other hand was a wide-mouthed funnel attached to a plastic tube about two feet in length.

“Where…where have you been stashing that?” he asked.

“Middle left cabinet, next to the sous vide.” It figured he hadn’t found it: the sous vide was Connie’s kitchen toy; he didn’t know how to use it. She set everything on the bedside table and straddled his lap. “Let’s get that shirt off you, hmm? I want to see that belly of yours swell up.”

The blood pounded in his ears even as it drained from his face, en route to things that needed it more. His breath came out shallow. Both their sets of hands collaborated to work off his shirt. She flattened her hand against the softness of his stomach, a contented hum building in her throat, before she picked up the funnel and jug. “Now open that pretty mouth, good boy.”

***

Connie slipped the tube between her lover’s lips and began to pour her creamy concoction down the funnel, slowly at first. She gave him a little taste, which he sucked down eagerly, his moans sounding to her like a symphony. “That’s it…good boy. Just drink, and enjoy, and let me take that cute little body of yours and double it.”

His hips bucked up into her, his hard-on pressing insistent through their pants into her slick arousal.

“Keep drinking,” she said, her slow, melodious words more encouraging than commanding. As eager as he was to give his body to her like a ribbon-wrapped gift for her to batter like a cat toy, she liked that he was just as happy to be spoiled, once she introduced the idea to him. “You’re gonna be so sexy once we pack a few more pounds onto you.” She poured some more shake down the funnel, faster this time, watching in sheer admiration as his throat worked down each gulp, until both his cheeks and eyes began to bulge and he gave her thigh the gentle two taps that meant yellow light. “Oh…sorry!” She took the tube out of his mouth and raised the water to his lips. “Little sips now, wash it down, that’s it.”

In a few seconds, he had caught his breath, and was looking eagerly up at her. “I’m ready for the rest now, Mistress!”

The jug was three-quarters empty now, and his soft belly domed out round and tight…she’d stop if he gave her a reason to be concerned for him, but she had the feeling they were equally eager to see what the final few gulps would do to him.

“Such a good piglet.” She emptied the jug into the funnel and delighted as he writhed in ecstasy below her, sucking down the last drops. Placing her tools on the nightstand once more, she placed her hands on either side of his belly and rubbed it in slow, gentle circles. Beneath a sensuous coating of flab, it felt so full and firm.

“That was so hot,” he groaned, his head lolling back into the pillow.

“You’re so hot,” said Connie. “And you’ve done such a good job, letting me fill up your belly so tight, right up to the brim…”

His hips bucked again, but she didn’t want to jostle things too much.

“I can’t wait to see where all these calories land as new fat on your body. And I bet you’ll even get some pretty new stretch marks out of this.”

“You terrible tease!”

“Shh, I want to make sure everything settles. Wouldn’t want you getting sick on me. But I’m not going anywhere, and once all this digests, I’m going to give you the best orgasm of your life.”