Chapter 1

I reclined in the soft chair, looking down at my body. Fat, it’s all I was now. Fat arms that I could hardly even lift anymore. They slowed my consumption too much. I simply couldn’t lift the food to my mouth fast enough. So, my benefactor had his workers feed me. But, then my own jaws slowed me down too much. They were the only muscles on my body to remain strong, they were incredibly powerful by any sane standard. But, sane standards were a thing of the past for me. So I asked my benefactor to find a way to let me eat more, faster. So began my foray into tube feeding. It was good, all I ever had to do anymore was swallow, and to occasionally ask for more, which the tube would happily supply me. But, even that was not enough for long. I remember when this all began. I was a skinny girl of three hundred pounds. One who, despite this svelte frame, always wanted more, and more, and more. I know that I am considerably heavier than I once was, but I couldn’t tell you a number. No, I couldn’t do much of anything anymore. All I did now was feed the endless hunger in me. “More.” I said, a single word made the pump kick on and more of the gloriously thick fluid poured into my mouth. I loved this, but all things must end I suppose, and the pump stopped after only a few hours. So, I shouted again “More! Faster!” And got the pump on again. Even faster this time. I swallowed it as quickly as I could, hardly even able to keep up with the deluge. Yet, even this was not enough, even when the only limit that remained to my consumption was the one made by my own rate of swallowing, my stomach still wanted more. Wanted? No, it demanded more. So, I shouted, “Full Speed, never stop again!” Before doing something that was rather dumb, in hindsight. I pushed the tube down my throat. It didn’t matter how fast I could swallow, if the stuff poured directly into my stomach.

So, I felt the pump humming along, sending vibrations through my throat as the shake poured into my stomach finally fast enough to make me breathe a sigh of relief out of my nose. I saw a tall, slim man in a suit, stroll up to me. My benefactor said “So, you finally did it. Now you literally won’t do anything but grow fatter anymore.” I gave him a thumbs up, with an arm I could hardly lift. How long had those muscles faced atrophy? How long had I done nothing but chew and swallow? In the end it didn’t really matter though. My benefactor leaned forward and put a hand on my stomach, saying, “you’ve made good use of that serum, haven’t you?” I wanted to nod, but I felt a drowsiness cover my head with an immovable weight, and only gave him a thumbs up. “Aahh,” came his voice, as he began to knead my stomach fat, causing his hand to sink into it far more deeply than even I thought possible. But it hardly mattered. I finally felt full. In fact, I could feel myself approaching the state of blissfully full engorgement that was the reason I agreed to this in the first place.

As my benefactor felt my belly ballooning outward he said, “To think, when we met you were so thin that I could wrap my arms around you.” I didn’t fall asleep, but I felt sleepy draw near to my consciousness. My benefactor continued, “and now? Maybe I still could, but it is growing more doubtful as you grow fatter.” It became harder and harder to stay awake. Even as I felt my stomach growing tighter, I closed my eyes and could hardly listen as he felt my belly with one hand, and kept talking, “and this is the thinnest you’ll ever be. Those pills that speed digestion? They’ve been blended into your weight gain shake. The shake that will be even more fattening, now that taste is no longer a concern.” I hardly even heard him speak as my benefactor continued to rant, “You are such a perfect pig now. You’ll never stop getting fatter again, will you?” I wanted to give him a hand gesture, but I couldn’t force my arm into the air again. I felt heavy. How heavy was I now? Whatever, numbers were meaningless. Even my bedsheet of a top started to feel tight, hardly even covering my gargantuan chest was starting to feel tight, somehow. It was only draped over my bosom, but I felt the edges slowly begin to tighten. That excitement was all that kept me awake as my benefactor hugged my body tightly, embedding himself into my fat. The feeling was exhilarating, I felt my heartbeat starting to pick up, which awoke me even more. I felt the tightness in my stomach growing stronger. It felt like that fullness pushed my benefactor away from me a bit, I don’t know if that’s true, or just my thoughts. But the tiny many spoke, “I am giving you the new formula, designed to fatten you even more. It is filled with even more of the drug intended to hasten your digestion too. So, you may feel tighter, but don’t worry about your stomach being injured. You should be fine.” It was good timing, my stomach was starting to get tight enough to feel pain. Wait, when did he change out the tube’s contents? Did I fall asleep again? How long have I even been here like this? I felt fear begin to take root in my heart, only to fade just as suddenly as it had appeared.

I know that I nodded off as my benefactor spoke, then I awoke to the feeling of pained fullness reaching a crescendo. Just as I began to consider spitting out the tube to escape injury the fullness stopped escalating. Then, slowly, over the course of several hours, the fullness began to wane. It’s funny. I actually began to miss that pain. It meant I was eating even more, getting even fatter, even faster. How fat was I even though? I felt my stomach slowly growing beneath my hands, and I tried to lift my arms to feel myself more, but I couldn’t. I don’t know if it was because my arms had gotten too heavy to lift as they swelled with fat, or if it was the atrophy of the muscles that had lifted them. In all likelihood it was a bit of both. But, no matter what it was, the thought of it was so exciting that I briefly wished I cod touch myself. But I couldn’t move my arms to do it the thought of being too fat to masturbate was even hotter, it made me even more excited. Then I remembered that I had been for a while already, that I was a lot fatter than that already. That turned me on even more, and I was getting even fatter as I thought of it, an idea that was so exciting that the mere thought of it was as stimulating as any man had ever been, and I was nowhere near done. I would never BE done. No, I would only get fatter, softer, weaker, even the tiny bits of exertion I had used to feed myself. I lift food to my mouth, to chew, to swallow. Even that was a thing of the past. Now the only muscles my body used were the ones for basic existence. My heart beat, my lungs breathed, and the like. It was just that and getting even fatter now. That was all I did. So not one calorie was wasted. Every last one went to making me even fatter. I feel like the thought should be sad, it ought to be dismal. But no, it only made me horny again, it made me want the pump to speed up and fill my stomach to near bursting. It made me want to be filled until I’m so round that you could roll me around like a ball. But most of all It made me look forward to when my life would be nothing but one orgasm followed by another, as I grew fatter by the minute until I die.

Little did I know that I would get everything I wanted and more, as my benefactor did speed up the pump over time, he attached a device to my stomach that read the pressure coming out from it, then kept the flow of food coming into me. Or that’s what he said it did anyway, and it made sense since I began to feel pain in my stomach from the sheer fullness I felt. I couldn’t stop thinking of just how fat I must be getting. My benefactor also told me repeatedly about just how fat I was getting and how the shake was being updated to be even more fattening. But, in the end, the strongest change came from something far simpler. My benefactor simply put a mirror into my room, letting me see just how fat I was getting. The sight was such a shock that I felt like I was on the edge of having a heart attack. I would have screamed at the top of my lungs if there wasn’t a tube in my mouth stopping me. I knew that my stomach hung down to the floor, I had felt the ground beneath my swollen gut for some time. But, now I saw just how far my belly fat flowed across the floor. I tried to move my arms for the first time in, I don’t know how long, to see that, not only did they continue to lie uselessly at my sides, but they were so weak that I couldn’t even make visible ripple in the veritable ocean of fat that was my body. My breasts did not touch the floor, but only because they rested on my gargantuan stomach. My legs were useless pools of pudge that couldn’t support a person of an ordinary weight, forget my behemoth form. As I stared the idea of just how stupidly fat I was really hit me, hard.

My thoughts were interrupted by my benefactor sidling up beside me, and putting a hand deep into my fat, fat, belly. He said, “So, I wanted you to see the size you were before I told you one thing. This is the skinniest you’ll ever be.” The simple words brought me to orgasm. It was not an ordinary one, it was the last time I would ever achieve climax, because it would never end. I was forever enraptured by the simple sight of myself in the mirror, and every waking moment of my life from then on was consumed by the simple act of seeing just how impossibly fat I was.

The best part? My benefactor was not wrong about that being the skinniest I would ever be.