Chapter 5 - turned on by my own fat

At first, I hated what Sylvia was doing to me - making me so fat and unattractive. I knew I was losing my handsome good looks with every bite she made me eat. Everyday, I thought that she would stop and forgive me. Then, we would get on with our lives. But soon - too soon -- I became accustomed to my routine. And eventually, I found that my new lifestyle agreed with me. At times, I found that horrifying, but it was not a bad life at all. I no longer had to do anything except lie around, drink eat and sleep. It seemed a pleasant life in some ways.

I never was a big drinker or anything, so at first I did not like drinking all that alcohol. Before long, I grew used to it and really started to enjoy being constantly drunk.

The feedings at first were quite unpleasant, but after a few weeks, they became almost enjoyable, even stimulating. Many times, especially after an exceptionally filling feeding, my hands drifted below my bloated belly and I pleasured myself. What else did I have to do? I was bored, and finding pleasure in my own body helped me get through the lonely times between feedings.

Soon, I was doing it so many times a day, almost anytime when I didn't drift immediately to sleep after a feeding. It seemed so erotic and luxuriant to be living like that, and my fattened body seemed so sensitive when I rubbed my distended belly or fondled my new-formed love handles.

I was in awe of all this self-pleasure at first. And soon, I felt horror as I realized that I was getting aroused by overeating and turned on by my own fat! But I couldn't stop.

After about the first month or so, I was unable to even squeeze into a pair of my underwear. I was always naked but never quite able to see my entire body. Early on, while I was asleep, Sylvia removed the full-length bedroom mirror and the vanity mirror in the bathroom. I could look down and see that my belly was bulging out a lot, but in my drunken state, I didn't really care.

Except it was turning me on. I watched as my well-defined pecs turned into mush and bloomed into full-grown man-boobs. I watched as my manhood and my feet soon disappeared behind a round blob of belly fat. At that point, I was no longer concerned most of the time.

Extra fat settled on my hips, butt and thighs. My gain seemed slow at times, almost as if it were not happening. I had no clothes tightening about me, no seams ripping, no buttons popping off my shirts. I had no scales to weigh myself and no mirror to really see the damage.

So I would be shocked at each change which occurred. For example, soon after my punishment began, I noticed that my thighs started to rub together when I walk. Gross, I thought, but that was just the beginning.

More recently, I was surprised when my love handles bumped into the sides of the bathroom doorway. In some ways, this disgusted me but it also perversely excited me. I pleasured myself right there and then. After that, almost every time I went to the bathroom, the same thing happened. Whenever my flab brushed the doorway, that sensitive feeling signaled a strange perverted desire to masturbate immediately.

I knew I was getting fatter, and some part of my mind worried about it a little. But as time passed, it became easier and easier to put any such worries out of my mind. That was all that became easier. I noticed that it was becoming harder to walk, and much more difficult to get out of bed each morning.

I got out of breath from just my morning routine, and some days I didn't bathe myself too well because it exhausted me. Sylvia would rush me through feedings, and I would be huffing and puffiing for oxygen from the exertion of simply eating.

Eventually, Sylvia had to start helping me get up and out of the bed. She was rough with me and impatient. She called me names like "fatty" and "hog" and insulted me. She even started washing me -- with a big soapy sponge on a stick. Like I was an elephant at the circus or something. She scrubbed me rough and called me "blubber boy" and "fat f*ck".

I knew I should have cared about how big I was getting, and I did for a few minutes after hearing her mercilessly tease me. My mind was clouded with alcohol, however, so any worries or concerns soon drifted away. And I had grown an appetite which also seemed to take over my subconscience. My priorities became overeating, sleeping and getting off.

I soon lost all track of time. I only knew that it was another day when Sylvia told me I should get up and clean myself up in the bathroom. I had no idea what day of the week it was or what month of the year even. I sensed the seasons changing outside the windows, but with my booze-soaked brain, it all seemed very confusing.

I may have been trapped there like that for years for all I knew. I had more important things to consider - my growing appetite and my growing horniness.

If I satisfied my libido, I waited for the next feeding to satisfy my growing belly. If my belly was full, I reached around my belly and played with my stiffened manhood.

I no longer questioned Sylvia about when my punishment would be over. I no longer cared. I was hungry. I was horny. That's all I knew.

(more to come)