Chapter 55 - the women of their dreams: part 1

126.
"Tell me;" said Caroline Kincaid one late spring morning as, carefully, she considered a head of cauliflower, "you wouldn't happen to have caught a glimpse of that Faye girl lately?"

Mrs Miller shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Come to think of it, it's been a while since anybody's seen her about, really."

"It has, hasn't it?" said Caroline as, with a frown, she put the head of cauliflower back where she'd found it. "One wonders what she might be up to these days. From what I hear, she's been blowing up like a balloon these past several months."

"And where might you have come by that piece of information?" asked Mrs Miller as she put a huge, pale radish in her shopping basket.

"Oh, I heard it from that Annie girl. Lettie had her over the other night."

"Now there's somebody who's blown up like a balloon," chuckled Mrs Miller.

"Hasn't she just," nodded Caroline, placing a pair of aubergines in her basket.

"She's heavier than Maggie ever was, and she doesn't seem like she's about to stop stuffing her fat face anytime soon," said Mrs Miller. "And she used to be such a pretty thing too. You've got to have some sympathy for her, really. It can't be easy having to drag all that disgusting blubber around at every hour of every day."

"I don't know about that," said Caroline. "After all, have you seen the way she eats? Trust me, she's got no one but herself to blame. The last thing fatties like her need is sympathy. It only encourages them."

"I guess you're right," Shrugged Mrs Miller. "Still, if that butterball thinks Faye's blown up, I dare hardly imagine how huge the poor thing must've gotten. It's a pity there's no way for us to find out."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," said Caroline as she turned to head over to the next aisle.

"Is that so?" said Mrs Miller, hurrying after the taller woman. "And what might you have cooking away in that sharp head of yours?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Caroline, "let's just say that I've hit upon the beginnings of a harmless little scheme. There might be something coming up soon that will allow us to get a proper look at the girl. And perhaps more at that."

127.
These days Faye rarely dreamt as she slept. Those few times when she did, her dreams were vague and choppy. A series of fuzzy, flickering images that she could hardly wrap her head around. Sometimes, she'd see a raven flying through the air, spying towards the ground far below; or a troupe of warriors in gleaming white armour, riding on the backs of great deer. At others, she'd watch as a train of nimble and impossibly slender girls danced across the earthen floor of a great wooden hall. From time to time, she would even find herself glimpsing, for little more than a fraction of a second, a tall and regal woman, a statuesque queen standing before a pond that seemed to reflect many a faraway place. But these images were rare. They meant nothing to Faye. She had usually forgotten them by the time she opened her eyes.

If, during these dreams, Faye would've bothered to look at the ring she wore on the fourth finger of her left hand, she might've noticed that the pale, milky thing was shining with a faint and flickering light. But, these days, she rarely gave that trinket much thought. She'd almost forgotten that it was even there.

Lately, however, the ring had been starting to make itself known again. As Faye's once slender and elegant fingers had grown chubby and sausage-like, the gleaming thing had started to get tighter. As her finger had thickened, it'd sunken into her soft flesh. It was starting to cause the poor, clumsy digit on which it sat to ache.

Even so, Faye found it hard to pay any actual attention to the gleaming little thing, or to the pain it was causing her. Usually, any awareness of it was shoved to the back of her mind. On those few occasions when her thoughts weren't occupied with other things, she might absently scratch at her finger. But as soon as Niall turned up with a meal or another novel for her to live vicariously through - as far as Faye was concerned, vicarious living was the best kind, since it involved no actual danger or heartache, and since you could be sure of never missing a meal - she'd soon forget all about the slight, throbbing pain in her finger.

One summer morning, as the scorching sun streamed through the gap between Faye's heavy drapes, Niall stopped to take in the sight of his beautifully overgrown girlfriend. Faye, as always, lay spread out in bed - as fat and useless as ever. Over the last couple of months, she looked to have put on a good few dozen pounds. By now she must be well over 300.

As he approached Faye with a tray packed with all her favourite, calorie-laden delicacies, the fiery-haired girl's face lit up. As she took in the sheer size of the meal her boyfriend had brought her, however, a hint of apprehension crept over her features. Still, as he set her towering mountain of food before her, she greedily dug in. She said not a single word as she stuffed one handful of food after another into her round, fleshy face.

About fifteen minutes into her first feast for the day, the girl's eating started to slow. She started to let out the occasional pained groan between bites. Still, Niall coaxed her to continue. He cooed over her, stroking her hair and rubbing her belly as he stuffed yet more food into her fat face. After another ten minutes, Faye put up her hand and stopped him as he was about to shove another forkful of empty calories in between her lips. The fiery-haired girl's mouth hung half open, her gaze was glassy and dull, beads of sweat ran down her forehead. 'I'm sorry, sweetie,' she panted. 'I can't, I just can't.'

A loud, groaning burp escaped from the depths of her overpacked stomach. 'Please,' she looked pleadingly at her boyfriend. 'I'm so full. My tummy hurts so bad.'

Fondly, Niall ran his fingers through his girlfriend's thick fiery hair. 'Oh sweetie,' he said. 'You can handle a little more, can't you?'

Her eyes wide, Faye shook her head. 'Please, no...'

'Come on,' said Niall, pushing his fork up against her lips. Faye clamped her mouth shut and turned her head away.

'Sweetie,' said the tall, wild-haired man, his calm voice suddenly taking on a harsh, commanding tone, 'open up!'

Faye glanced up at her beloved. There was a stern look in his adoring eyes that she'd hardly ever seen before. It frightened her, but also left her strangely aroused. Slowly, she parted her lips.

Over the last few months, ever since she'd failed her diet challenge, Niall had been growing more commanding. Knowing full well that Faye was too far gone to resist, he'd started to increase her portions by leaps and bounds, forcing her to eat until her stomach ached like it never had before. As soon as Faye grew accustomed to the immense size of her calorie-laden meals, he would make them even bigger.

Sometimes Faye felt as though she was a pig being fattened for market. As though she existed only to be filled with as much food as she could possibly hold. Even so, she ate with great enthusiasm. Niall's food was heavenly, and the feeling of it as it pressed against the walls of her stomach was so very enticing. Though it was hard sometimes, Faye wanted to eat for him and grow for him. She wanted him to be pleased with her.

When, somehow, Faye had finished every last crumb of her meal, Niall would hold her. He would reach his arms around her soft, swelling form and run his hands along it. He would rub her belly as he planted passionate kisses on her lips, her cheeks and her soft, sensitive neck. He would tell her all about how well she'd done and how good she'd been. He made her feel so very loved, so very special, and so very safe.

"By the way," said Niall once Faye had settled down after her meal, "there's something I'd meant to ask you."

"Yeah?" said Faye, looking sluggishly at her boyfriend.

"Well," said Niall, "from what I hear, Caroline Kincaid and her friends in the Village Preservation Society are going to be holding a fete to raise funds for some repairs to the church roof. She came by the other day to talk about it. Needless to say, the bakery's going to be putting up a stall, so I was wondering if you'd like to help out? She mentioned in passing that it might be nice if you could turn up."

"I don't know," said Faye, showing her usual lack of enthusiasm for anything that involved any degree of actual activity.

"Apparently there'll be food," Niall smiled ever so slightly. "Lots and lots of it. We could spend the day going around together while I buy you whatever you want."

"Well," said Faye hesitantly. "I guess it could be nice to get out for a bit."

"So, that's settled then?"

"Yeah," Faye nodded, "but you'd best bring a lot of dough."

Niall laughed. "You can be sure of that."

Having planted a kiss on his girlfriend's squishy, swollen cheek, Niall got to his feet.

"I need to get back to work, but I'll be back soon with a little snack for you."

Faye nodded as her boyfriend walked over to the door.

"I love you," she said, just as he was about to step out.

Niall turned to look at the fiery-haired girl. He thought about how thin and graceful she'd used to be. How bright and bubbly and full of energy. Now all of that was gone, lost under a mass of soft flesh. These days she was nothing but a beautiful blob, a blubbery butterball with a pleasantly drowsy demeanour.

"I love you too, my little lump of dough," he said. "And I'll always be here to take care of you."

"I know," said Faye, beaming at him as he turned to leave.