chapter 2: pants

At 130 pounds, she had bought 2 new pairs of jeans. She had to. She had nothing to wear.

"It's not a commitment to staying this big," she thought. "It's just two pairs of pants. Once I get skinny again, they can be the loose pants I wear around the house," she thought.

Now, at 140 pounds, she could hardly button her new pants.

After a weekend of staying at home in sweatpants and eating everything he gave her-- which meant staying uncomfortably full the whole time, and not even wanting to count how many calories that was-- she had grown out of her pants.

She lay back on the bed, struggling with the button. She got them closed and sat up. Her belly strained against them and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

This was getting out of hand.

Having a pair of "fat pants" for a quick weight gain experiment was one thing. Getting too fat for your "fat pants" was another.

Her belly spilled forward, threatening to brush her thighs.

Her skin was tight and itchy. Squeezing the fat spilling over her jeans, she inspected her belly and suddenly realized there were a few tiny red dots on either side of her belly.

"Stretch marks?!" she thought. "Surely these could not be stretch marks." Suddenly the terrifying thought struck her that she was in danger of doing something she couldn't undo.

Just then, John walked into the bedroom. "I thought you bought some pants that were actually big enough for you?" he grinned.

"I did," she said. "These are them."

"Damn, really? I had no idea you'd grow this fast," he said.

"I'm about to outgrow everything I own," she lamented.

"You already have," he said. "Just because you can fit into it doesn't mean it fits."

He stood behind her and squeezed her love handles. "Maybe you can pull them up-- for now-- but they haven't fit you in 10 pounds. It's clear you've been a greedy girl," he said.

"I can't believe how easy it was to get you fat," he said.

"I'm not fat yet," she said.

"You're right. Just chubby and overfed," he said.

She cringed. This was the worst part. When he called her "fat" before, it was clear it was just an exaggerated fantasy, because she wasn't actually FAT. But him admitting she was chubby and overfed? Well, now it was true.

"I know your appetite is out of control," he said.
"You must be eating even when I'm not around, to gain this much weight."

He groped her belly, giving it a good squeeze. "Jesus, you've been packing it on," he said. "You feel wider every time I touch you."

"My belly feels so tight and itchy. I think I'm about to get stretch marks," she said.

"Of course you are, with the way you've been eating," he said. "Just a matter of time. Once you get stretch marks, you can't go back. You'll never be skinny again."

"I'm not sure about this," she said. "I think I want to stop gaining."

"Go ahead and try," he said. "You're too greedy to stop eating. And don't tell me you're not already wet at the thought of how fast you're blowing up."

She squirmed. He was right. She had been soaking her jeans from the moment she realized how much tighter they had gotten in just one weekend.

"You feel wider every time I touch you." He pressed against her from behind; she felt his erection. He tried to unbutton her pants, but they wouldn't open. He tried to fit his hand down her pants, but there was no room.

"I can't even give you what I know you want," he whispered, rubbing her crotch from the front. She whimpered. "You're too fat for me to unbutton your pants."

As usual, she was embarrassed at how much she was getting off from this. But, as usual, she gave into her desire and unbuttoned her pants. Her gut spilled forward.

He reached inside and started rubbing. She was just about to come when he stopped.

"Please keep going," she whispered.

"Not yet," he said. "First, you have to do something for me. Let's go to the kitchen."