Chapter 2 - the honeymoon

Our 'honeymoon' was a whirlwind of foodstuffs. I wasn't allowed to leave the room under any circumstances. He didn't trust me enough. So the last month followed a very specific pattern: wake up, be stuffed with room service, pass out while rubbing my belly, wake up, and then do it all over again. The only part I enjoyed about it was the food. The benefit of being trapped in a five-star hotel I guess. Lobster, steak, crab legs; all these extravagant dishes that I could never afford on my own. I started looking forward to every meal that lay ahead of me, eager to see what delights I would be served next.

The only way I could judge the time of day was by the food he gave me. The blinds were always closed, blocking out all sun from outside. The clock was unplugged and he took my phone away. The only source of light came from a small, dim desk-lamp and the television set. So I started keeping track of the days by counting how many times he ordered breakfast for me. It started off as just large portions of bacon and eggs, but the number of items and plates grew with each passing day. On day three he introduced pancakes, always drowning in a sea of butter and syrup. Day six brought home fries. Every three days, one new food was added. Sausage, crepes, muffins, doughnuts, omelets, French toast, and finally waffles. He did the same with lunch, dinner, and dessert. To say I had to struggle to finish would be an understatement. Everyday brought me to my absolute limit, stretching my poor belly further and further until it could hold even more delicious food. He said each day's stuffing was designed to expand my stomach, so I would be capable of holding more calories. He also wanted my metabolism to slow down, which is why I was only allowed to sleep until I digested enough to eat more and had to spend all my time in bed.

As you could imagine, this new lifestyle (if you could call it that) was taking a major toll on my body. It was hard to judge the true size of my bulging stomach, since it was always crammed full of food and therefore always a little bloated, but it had definitely grown a lot. Apparently Jin had been telling the staff I was pregnant to explain the weird happenings going on, and they would have no reason to doubt him if they saw me. I felt fat. My flat stomach had been replaced with a fledgling beer belly. I could feel the extra padding around my hips, the new pudginess of my thighs, the extra space my booty takes up on the bed. My breasts had gained some mass as well, growing slightly and becoming strangely sensitive. I feel like this is his doing somehow, but I couldn't be sure.

Maybe it was the food or how sexy and controlling her was, but I felt horny all the time. Despite how awful of a person he is, I still want him bad. But of course, the twisted bastard never gave me the satisfaction. You'd think the benefit of virtually being a sex slave would be the sex, but he never touched me. I mean, sure, he poked my belly and rubbed my new softness on occasion (moments I cherished), but nothing else. He didn't let me waste my waking hours showering, so he bathed me while I slept. I don't know what he did with me then, but I never felt anything when I woke up. Just an absence of sauce splatter and crumbs from my face and always-naked body. And I couldn't even get myself off either. I routinely went from binging to sleeping, with no free time between that. He monitored how long I spent in the bathroom too, so I couldn't even do it in there.

Instead I had to gain my pleasure from stuffing myself, an association that was growing stronger in my subconscious everyday. I think I thought deep down that the more I ate, the more he would want me. That an extra burger or slice of cheesecake would lead to a caress. That some extra weight would lead to even more. In the back of my mind, something primal inside me wanted me to get fat for him. Maybe this was his plan all along and I was a sucker for falling for it, but it seemed to be working. His lack of interest had me on the verge of begging. I would've done anything. He was turning me into a submissive, but I didn't care at this point. I just wanted him to f*ck me.