Chapter 5 - stuffing and fattening

I watched grimly as the guard, standing over the back of the chair, steadied the funnel in place between Gary's helplessly chomping teeth and dunked the hose it.

I pulled Gary's shirt up and tucked it under his immobilized arms so I could gauge the change it had on his stomach. It was drastic. Minutes passed, and the organ seemed to swell, bulging out from between his fleshy ribs like a slowly inflating balloon. Between sputters in the hose's semi-solid excretion, Gary whimpered and wiggled his hips. I came close to him again and smiled as I met his darting eyes. "Would you like me to make you more comfortable, dear?"

I unbuttoned his pants. It let his flabby gut hang out, expanding by the second. When Gary started moaning--no, when Gary's moans turned to a gasping shriek, I told the guard to turn it off. He did and removed his instruments. Gary immediately turned his head over the side of his chair and vomited, but I had my hands clamped over his jaw and the crown of his head, forcing his teeth shut, my thumb pinning his lower lip against the upper, and he had no choice but to swallow it again. He panted. One more time, he tried to puke, and I made him keep it in, and then it all stayed down and he gasped and panted and lay limp in the chair. His cheeks were wet. I figured that meant my pet Charlie would be safe.

Very simply, I knelt next to Gary and said, "We'll stay here until you've digested most of that. Can't have you getting rid of any. Thanks, Brekh." The guard nodded and left. "Do you ever, ever want that to happen again, Gary?"

He shook his head vehemently, teeth clenched, tears glistening, unable to speak.

"Do you know what you have to do to make sure it doesn't?"

This time, the motion of his head was vertical. He whimpered.

"Good."

***


At 188 pounds, which made a total gain of thirty pounds so far, we agreed to let Charlie have two pills a day, instead of one. I brought the first one in the morning, as usual, and said, after he'd swallowed it, "I'll bring you the next one this afternoon."

He stared at me, eyes widening. "You mean--"

"You met our requirements," I said.

"I--I gained ten pounds?"

I nodded. He had.

"Well, bring me the next one now," he said, "I don't know when I'll want it."

I knew. He'd want it about an hour after lunch, but by evening, he'd be sullenly recovered. Instead, I intended to give it to him four hours after lunch, and let him have another low point after dinner, to maximize the amount of time he spent wishing he had another one. "Eras says I can't, but if you can gain another ten pounds, you'll get three a day." By ten I meant thirty, as before.

He laughed. His flesh moved deliciously when he did that. "That'll never last. You're planning on dangling a carrot in front of me every ten pounds, right? Eventually I'll get all the pills I need in a single day and that'll stop working. In fact, three should about do it."

I smiled. "Be careful, Charlie," I said. "My boss likes to have her way. She won't hesitate to go back on a promise to a human. If you stagnate, she'll take all the pills away again, and you'll have to keep gaining just to get the first one back."

Charlie's whole demeanor changed, from laughter to a ferocious glare, within seconds. "Make sure she doesn't," he commanded, and I almost said, "I'll try," before realizing I wasn't the one supposed to be taking orders.

"You make sure. It's your body, after all. You can decide you want to cooperate or not, but if you don't, I'm willing to bet those pills will vanish."

Grumbling, he turned and went into his room, and I got a plate of gooey fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies ready for him when he came out again ten minutes later, already looking to eat.

Gary was the only other person at the table just then. He sat dutifully eating a greasy plate of drumsticks, doused in barbecue sauce, and trembled when I passed behind him and brushed a hand across his shoulder. He never met my eye anymore. The others had noticed his change in demeanor, but no one commented, and I wasn't even certain if they had guessed the reason behind it. Charlie tucked into his treat. Sitting, his belly made a nice bulge over his pantsline (which was rapidly tightening) and stretched his T-shirt taut. I wanted more than anything to touch him and jiggle that new poundage, but I was afraid of scaring him back into losing weight.

He was eager, like the others, now. He claimed nearly every day it was because of his desire for more pills, but today he'd achieved his supposed ten-pound goal, and he was still eating exactly as before. I knew it wasn't the pills making him eat. He had fallen victim to our ploy, the way all the other humans had: the act of eating had itself become a pleasure to him. He wanted food. So far he was ignoring the obvious effects it was having; I wondered, when he outgrew his pants, would it force him to realize we had won? Possibly. But I was fairly confident that even when that happened, he didn't have the willpower to stop. He would put it out of his mind instead.

Because I didn't want to unnerve him, and Gary was already as unnerved as a person could possibly be, I settled for sliding into the seat next to the plumper one and giving him a few appreciative pats. Gary had become an obedient piggy, but unlike the others, he disliked eating. He did it out of fear, and hated the discomfort of being overfull, although just a single glance from me could persuade him to stuff himself until he was sick. Right now he was fairly comfortable. I watched him flinch and fervently apply himself to tearing the meat from its bone, and, sadistically, I pressed my hand down on the very round protrusion of his stomach and squeezed. In his ear I whispered, "Eat faster, my fat little piggy. You aren't gaining enough." He fairly choked his chicken down. I kept my hand on his chubby thigh, pinching him occasionally. Charlie didn't even notice.