Chapter 1

The removal of the admittedly weighty sweatsuit dropped Stella’s weight by two pounds, leaving her with five pounds to gain instead of three before she could finally get the reward that had been motivating this entire bout of unrestrained, unfathomably excessive gluttony. She’d been so angry with Christian the first time he’d moved the goalposts, telling her that the initial six pounds he’d packed on her those first two days didn't count towards her total, but this time, she accepted the increased weight standard docilely.

The more she ate, the more she centered her life around the meals that Christian purchased and prepared for her, the less she cared about anything else. Her days were spent gorging herself past her limits and her nights were spent fantasizing about being taken in Christian’s strong hands, and that lifestyle was enough of a distraction for her even in the face of how quickly things were changing.

The scale had been stuck at 138 for two weigh-ins, and despite how close she was to the number she was growing more and more desperate to see, it seemed that no amount of binging over the last couple of days would make the scale budge. It was her second weigh-in at 138 (the first being two days prior) and although her weight may not have gone up, the changes in her body were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. The data may have told her that she was no fatter than she was a few days ago, but running her hands along her softening, growing body confirmed that regardless of what she weighed, she was getting bigger.

Her body was growing more pliable, Christian’s fingers now sinking slightly into her once-toned middle when he inspected her form with his hands. According to Christian, she wasn't yet big enough to jiggle, but Stella swore she felt it with every movement, felt her expanded form with every step. She was hyper-aware of the extra weight she was collecting in her thighs and ass in particular, and she was certain she wasn't imagining the additional shake and quiver of the new layer of fat slowly creeping to cover her entire body.

Every time she looked in the mirror she swore she could see a difference, could tell that Christian’s diet plan was doing exactly what he’d intended it to, but Christian was of a different mind. As eagerly as Stella was anticipating the moment he’d finally be satisfied with her gain and ravage her, Christian was somehow even more impatient, somehow more driven and focused on their goal than she was. He didn't care that she felt heavier, although he did like to hear her describe the sensation of feeling her body fill out with fat. All he cared about were the numbers on the scale, and his frustration over the last two weigh-ins was nearly palpable, the lengths to which he’d been going to stuff her increasing in aggression and intensity.

Stella wasn't sure why the scale wouldn’t budge, but found herself surprisingly unconcerned. Unlike christian, she knew she was getting bigger, and she knew the scale would have to reflect that eventually. Christian however, seemed to be of the mind that the vast caloric surplus was no longer doing its job, and the tension behind his frustration was almost as alluring to Stella as his obvious desire.

“Here,” he said curtly, setting a box of pizza swimming with slick, amber-colored grease and piled with a proverbial mountain of pepperoni. “And hurry up. You have dessert on the way.”

Stella pouted, stung by his tone, then flinched as Christian slammed his hand on the table next to her at her delayed reactions to his instruction.

“Now,” he commanded, his voice cuttingly severe, and Stella grabbed a piece and began to munch, still full from the earlier rounds of snacks and treats he’d been serving her ever since she woke up from the food coma induced by her densely filling breakfast.

“Faster,” Christian instructed, leaning back against the counter to watch her, and Stella began to stuff down the pizza more rapidly, groaning a bit as she overfilled her mouth with the piping hot cheese and dough.

He stood still as a statue as he watched her steadily through four pieces, his expression darkening, and Stella began to push herself to eat more and more quickly, her mounting fear at his obvious and steadily building ire motivating her to make more of a pig of herself than usual. She burped after an enormous bite, her mouth still full, then continued to chew steadily, her cheeks bulging with food and her bloated little potbelly protruding out from her once flat middle.

“Enough of this,” Christian said suddenly, straightening up.

Stella crammed another bite into her already packed mouth in panic, trying her best to follow his instructions but unsure what exactly Christian had had enough of, but to her surprise, he didn't grab her or a slice of pizza. Instead, he went to the freezer, selected a pint of Ben and Jerry's, and pried off the top as he made his way to the microwave. Stella groaned, already well aware of what came next.

“I am so tired of you half-assing this, I am so, so tired of you trying to resist me, Stella.”

“I’m not,” she attempted to protest, but her mouth was so full that her words came out as indiscernible little grunts.

“I know you’re disobeying me,” he insisted as he set the microwave, his back to her and the loud beeps indicating his intentions. “You must be, because you haven't gained a pound the last two times I’ve weighed you”

Stella swallowed hard, finally able to plead her case.

“I’m not,” she whined, her trademark tone of late.

Everything was a whine from Stella nowadays, whether it was complaints of overfullness, begging for more food, or pleading with Christian to please, please touch her in the way that she needed to be touched.

“I’m not disobeying you,” she repeated when he ignored her, the microwave whirring to life. “I’ve been eating everything you’ve been giving me baby, you know that!”

“Don’t lie to me Stella,” Christian threatened, turning to face her. “Do you want a punishment?”

“I’m not lying,” she insisted, her heart beginning to thrum faster at the palpable energy in the air.

She shifted in her seat, feeling herself growing desperate for Christian once more. It was a desperation that never fully subsided these days, instead laying lightly dormant until the next moment that his new dominant attitude pushed all the right buttons. He knew what he was doing to her, she was certain of it, and she swore she could still see that sly, sexy grin hidden underneath the mask of anger he was feigning for her sake. She felt dizzy with passionate want, felt as if she wasn't long for a world in which she couldn't have him. She was genuinely beginning to grow concerned about her health, and had wondered on more than one occasion if death by unfulfilled desire was a potential concern.

The microwave beeped and Christian removed the carton of ice cream, heading towards her with intentions as obvious as they were menacing.

“I know you’re lying to me. I know you’re lying because I've been feeding you like a goddamn pig and you’re not getting any bigger.”

“I am, I swear,” Stella insisted, a half slice of pizza still clutched in one greasy hand. “Baby I swear, I've been eating everything you give me, I promise.”

“I know what you’re doing,” Christian said, his voice dropping to a low, knee-weakening rumble. “I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me wait. You’re trying to make me wait longer and longer for you to finally get to the size I want you just so I’ll fuck you even harder when it’s time. You’re teasing me, aren't you baby?” he asked, reaching her chair and lifting her chin with a gentle hand.

Stella shook her head no, too mesmerized by his power and proximity to trust herself to speak.

“You’re teasing me,” he contradicted. “You’re testing me, seeing if I can take it. Seeing if I'll crack because of how badly I need to be inside you. You think you can just be a little brat and get whatever you want, don't you Stella?”

Her breaths were coming in short bursts and that aching feeling was rising within her, was taking over her sensibilities and making her forget herself, forget the rules and constraints that Christian had placed upon her. She reached up to kiss him, her face still slick with pizza grease, and he leaned down and bit and grabbed her wrist in one hand, just tight enough for her to really feel the pressure.

“Did I give you permission?” he whispered huskily into her ear, his breath tickling her neck and distracting her enough for a moan to slip from between her lips. “Huh? Answer me.”

“No,” Stella whimpered, a pulsating heat beginning to radiate from her wrist where he still held her in place.

“No,” Christian cooly confirmed. “And you only do what I give you permission to do, right baby?”

Stella nodded, only for Christian’s grip on her wrist to tighten.

“Use your words,” he instructed, and Stella nearly cried out, feeling herself becoming lost in the moment, lost in him.

“Yes,” she breathed desperately, barely able to force out the word. “Yes, yes,” she repeated as if in a trance, as if hypnotized by her own desperation for the pleasure that she knew he could provide for her.

“You little slut,” Christian accused, dropping her wrist and picking up the carton of ice cream sweating on the counter. “You wanna make me lose control. You just wanna push me and push me until you think I can't hold back anymore, you wanna make me break.”

He sighed deeply, his gaze running across her body as she looked up at him with needy, emotive eyes, nearly in tears at her own sexual frustration.

“And I'll admit,” he said, one hand dropping to her slowly widening waist and beginning to rub her burgeoning belly with light, gentle strokes. “I’ll admit,” he repeated, a bit more of the control he typically boasted leaching out of his words as he began to feel her up. “That it’s getting difficult. You’re making it difficult. But baby, I promise. I’ll break you before you break me. You’re not getting what you want until I do. And then, and only then, are you finally gonna get to see what all this has been doing to me.”

He straightened back up.

“But it's too slow. It's too goddamn slow. You're torturing me, Stella. I can't take this for much longer. I need you bigger. Now, open your mouth.”

She obliged without hesitation and Christian held the carton of vanilla ice cream up to her mouth and tipped it down her throat, Stella now accustomed to the steady gulping of the thick, creamy liquid that she’d found too rich to choke down the first few times Christian had forced her too. She was already stuffed but she felt herself growing, the now familiar, and almost pleasant, feeling of her stomach being filled to max capacity. She put a hand to her gut as it continued to push out further, breathing through her nose as she’d trained herself to do, and Christian murmured barely audible encouragements, his voice nearly breaking as he continued to rub her little gut in tandem with her and tell her just how perfect she was, how sexy she was getting.

“You’re doing so good baby,” he encouraged, his voice belabored with want and beginning to strain under his clearly weakening willpower. “You’re doing so good, you look so- oh fuck,” he said, cutting himself off suddenly and yanking the carton away from Stella’s lips, causing rivulets of melting ice cream to drip down her chin.

She moaned, pressed her hand deeper into her gut, and burped raucously, even half the carton enough to fill her almost to her limit.

“What?” she moaned, wanting to reach for him but feeling too full to comfortably move. “Baby what? Why’d you stop?”

“I can’t keep this up,” Christian breathed, pulling back as his chest rose and fell quickly. “I can't just-” he sighed heavily, pressing his eyes closed for a split second too long and backing away from her further. “Jesus Stella, what are you doing to me? I can’t be around you right now.”

“Baby *hic* please,” Stella begged, hiccups of overfullness pocking her speech.

“I can’t control myself right now,” he admitted in a hushed, strained voice. “If I stay here for one more second, if I watch you eat one more thing, I'm gonna tear those sweatpants off your body and bend you right over this kitchen island.”

“Baby,” Stella whimpered again, and despite the pressing sensation in her stomach she attempted to make a grab for the carton of melted ice cream that Christian had left on the table, wanting so badly to entice him to stay that she was willing to subject herself to the force-feeding Christian had found himself too worked up to continue.

The move both forced another groan from Stella and made Christian freeze, his eyes locked on her and a pained expression on his face.

“Baby, please, please just take me now,” stella panted desperately, all logic and reason fled from her entirely as all else fell away. “Please. I’m yours, i’m yours, just take me. I’ll do whatever you want, I'll get as big as you want, I promise. I promise, please.”

It was the first time she’d said those words and truly meant them, truly been willing to sacrifice her body, her lifestyle, and her health just for the chance to relieve the pressure that had been building up within both of them since this enforced little experiment began. If somehow given to choice, provided with a magic wand to fulfill the moment's truest desires, she would’ve packed on hundreds of pounds in a split second for just one round with the man who was beginning to drive her mad. She would do it with no qualms, no hesitation, and she vaguely realized through the haze of all-consuming need that this was exactly what Christian wanted.

This is why he was doing this to her, why he was torturing himself with denial as well. He wanted her to be willing to give everything, relinquish complete control, just for the chance to get what she really needed. He had coaxed her into conflating her sexual appetite with her physical one, and now every time she wanted him, she got hungry. He was training her, training her like a pet, and she was already broken in. Trained to associate food and sex, to associate the feeling of purposely overstuffing herself with the feeling of want and desire. He was slowly but surely convincing her that she wanted to be fat. That the only way she could be satisfied, that she could feel the way he knew she desperately wanted to feel, was if she grew bigger and bigger.

He’d actually made her want it. Even if it was only at her most desperate, in her most unhinged moments, he’d actually wormed his ideas into her subscious. He’d actually made her want to gain weight for him. It was unthinkable, and therefore, Stella didn't think about it. Instead she made another pathetic attempt to grab for the carton, another loud burp bursting from between her crumb coated lips, and Christian let out his breath in a raggedy exhale.

“I’ll get as fat as you want,” Stella promised again. “Please, just fuck me.”

“Oh my god, you little whore,” Christian murmured under his breath, still enraptured by the figure of his plumping, stuffed girlfriend struggling to stuff herself further.

He took a step closer then stopped, shaking his head.

“Baby, you need to do something for me, ok?” he said, his voice more gentle. “You need to eat for me. Please. Because I wanna keep my promise to you, but I don't know how much longer I can hold back. Please. A few more days, ok? I can only give you a few more days, I can’t-”

He stopped abruptly, dropping his face into his hand and pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a headache.

“I need to clear my head, ok? I'm gonna go for a run,” he said as he turned heel, heading for the front door without grabbing his headphones or any of his other typical workout gear.

“Baby wait,” Stella whined, but the door slammed on her words, leaving her......




*I hope you enjoyed! This is becoming one of my longest stories yet lol. For more, you can check out the about me section of my profile here on FF:) Thank you for reading! This story is EA.*