Chapter 1 - Monday night in with a female feeder

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She sat on the couch beside him and flicked through channels on the remote. She glanced across to see how he was doing with the pizza. Prepared by her own hand, she knew it packed a calorie-laden punch. She wasn't hungry herself, never was, but had commanded that he ate every last bite. Perhaps wisely, he did as told, and so he ushered piece after piece past his lips, to join his starter of loaded potato skins which had already come unduly loaded.

She tried not to pay him too much attention at this point. It was better that way. He ate more. But she kept a watchful eye on his progress nevertheless.

His belly was beginning to swell nicely, and looked uncomfortably full. But he still ate regardless - diligently, obediently. To her, his inability to say no to decadent treats was an endless source of both amusement and fascination. It had barely been a year since their relationship began, but during that time, his weight had ballooned. She'd turned him into a man that all the diet shows advised should not be eating pizza, ever again.

And yet he was doing just that again tonight. And why? Because she had told him to. She called all the shots when it came to food; period. And she liked it that way. She loved it in fact. And how she had wielded that control to such a devastating effect, wreaking complete havoc upon his waistline during their time together. She counted 42 pounds gained that year alone.

'I'm a talented one at that,' she mused to herself. A strong willed female with a penchant for feeding men like no other. And this boy had potential like none she had ever met. But no other woman would look at him twice by the time she was done, she was sure of that. And this was only the beginning. She felt this one could really go the distance. This time it was for real.

"Finished," he announced abruptly, disrupting her from her pleasantly meandering thoughts.

"Don't talk fat boy".

"I'll tell you when you're done. And you'll thank me for it."

He belched, then groaned as he rubbed his belly. His medium sized t-shirt had since rolled up to reveal a gloriously swollen pot belly.

"We talked about this, didn't we?" she spoke again.

"Don't belch in front of me if you have any sense. It just lets me know you have room for more, okay?"

He nodded. She kissed him on the cheek. And with that, she rose from the couch and headed for the kitchen once again, so as to prove her point. He slouched back and undid the button on his 40" jeans, which were rapidly becoming too small to contain his fattened paunch.

"Nah-ah-ah. No unbuttoning without me," she said smiling from the doorway, having caught him in the act.

He grimaced and fumbled to refasten.

"Good boy," she said, licking her lips surreptitiously as she turned once again to enter the kitchen.

She began to rummage around in the freezer. A pint of Ben and Jerry's was what she sought, and she would not give up until she found it. Out of the $40 she had recently added to their weekly shop, ice cream was one of the easier tricks she employed to 'pad out' his already unrestrained diet. It helped to add an astronomic calorie-surge atop her already lavishly prepared meals, which came dished up in increasingly larger portions, stacked heavy with butter and cream. And it was taking its toll. And a big toll at that. She was already 'ahead-of-schedule' by her reckoning, and was more and more impressed with the results she achieved each week at their 'weekly weigh-ins'.

'This could be another 4 pound week' she mused, as she finally spotted the Ben and Jerry's at the bottom of the freezer. She grabbed it along with a spoon from a nearby drawer, and headed back to the lounge.

"Take off your t-shirt," she announced bluntly.

He did as he was told, as always.

"Chr*st, you're fat," she smirked cruelly when she saw his bloated flesh.

His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She was right. He was getting big. He could feel it. The shortness of breath on the stairs at work. The comments from his colleagues. Their knowing stares whenever he ate. All signs that he was growing fatter and fatter by the day. God it turned him on. She turned him on. Those thoughts provoked a large bulge in the crotch of his jeans. He just couldn't help himself. She saw it, and started laughing.

"Again? ... You're so pathetic."

She chuckled once more as she handed him the ice cream and the spoon.

"But I love you that way. So, c'mon, eat up".

"But I'm full ... really, too full," he protested, meekly.

"Really? I doubt that fatty."

Her next response was well rehearsed by now.

"Fine. Don't eat it - see if I care. But you sure as hell won't get inside me tonight if you don't."

He appeared to reconsider the ice cream proposition as he pondered her words.

He picked up the spoon and began to eat.

'Men,' she reasoned to herself as she sat back down on the couch, 'so easy to manipulate'.

She leaned into his fat body as he ate and whispered in his ear.

"Knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

She began to massage his belly, lovingly.

"Now lick that tub clean for me."

"And then ... maybe ... we'll f*ck."

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