Chapter 1 - the proposition

"I'm sorry!" her tears soaking my shirt told me this wasn't a dream.
"But why? I thought we were doing great, and-" She was really sobbing now.
"I- I was drunk. I don't know. I don't even really know that anything happened. Just... it probably did." I can't say I was really surprised. She cheated on every other guy she dated, why not me? She had almost done it before, one other time when drunk. "We... you... don't want to be with me anymore, do you.." she wailed. I hugged her.
"We'll think of something. You were drunk. You can earn your trust back." Instantly, she swung around and tackled me with a hug. No questions, as I hoped. Let her just think on that and be thankful for the chance until she finds out what it entails, I thought, glad she had waited until we were almost home from the long drive to tell me. At least we had both had a great time...
We didn't see each other for a few days, trying to let the awkwardness fade, maybe wondering what she could do to earn my trust back. Finally, she sent me a series of text messages, begging me to come over. I stopped by a grocery store and got a few things, and made my way there. She opened the door to me, smiling broadly with her perfect teeth and bright blue eyes. I stepped inside and kissed her on the cheek, quickly. I tossed the sack in the freezer, pulling a bottle out of it as I did so.
"Ooh, tequila? Weren't we just talking about how I couldn't handle my booze?" she asked, more seductively than it should have been. I shrugged.
"It works. I guess we need to have an awkward conversation." Her smile faded as her heart visibly sank. I started to look for shot glasses, but she quickly opened the right drawer, and pulled out three. She poured shots into all of them, and drank one quickly.
"Come on, at least make some effort to keep up, or else I'll drink the whole bottle and there won't be able to be a conversation." I drank my shot while she drank her second. She refilled them. This time I took the two. She refilled them again, bringing my bottle down to about half. I drank the one this time. I moved over and touched her tenderly, moving in for a gentle kiss that soon had me trying to steal the taste of the tequila from her mouth. I could tell she was feeling the tequila.
"So I have an idea as to how I could trust you." I began, tentatively.
"Tell me! Anything! I'm sorry!" she was suddenly almost crying again.
"I know of a way to make you more attractive to me, while less attractive to most other men, and I think I could trust you if you did that."
"What do you want me to do? Do I need to quit drinking?" She looked worried. I laughed and tried to make her feel more at ease.
"No, I don't want to punish you or anything like that. In fact, drinking is a good idea for what I propose. All it would take is gaining a little bit of weight that you could always lose later, and most guys will walk away, but I won't be able to keep my hands off." She looked confused.
"Really?" She frowned. "How much weight?" She had always kept a lot of her weight in her belly, with any large meal putting it out past her decent-sized breasts.
"20, 30 pounds. The more you gain, the more I can trust you, but there might reach a certain point that more weight would be less attractive to me. But don't worry about that now, certainly. Please, allow me to make you some dinner while you think about it."
"I already ate dinner."
"Well, if you really do want to consider trying to fix this relationship, you might also want to consider a second helping." She looked at me suspiciously.
"This is some kind of a trick. You're making fun of me. You know I've always found it easy to put on weight, and that it's kind of a fetish of mine. This... This isn't fair." She was sobbing again. I went to hug her, but she pushed me away.
"It's no trick. It's my fetish too. We've talked about this before when drunk. I guess you were drunker than I was. Anyway, we need to do a few more shots while this boils." She nodded enthusiastically, still wiping away tears.
In a few more minutes, it seemed, we had drunk the rest of the bottle, not even speaking to toast to anything. "I'm going to go get into something more comfortable." she said, trying to sound seductive, though very obviously drunk. She had been wearing some skinny jeans and a halter top that already showed off her belly nicely, despite her gym visits and dieting. While she did that, I ran out to my car and grabbed a 12 pack of beer. I opened two as soon as I got back in the door, and had her drinking it once she returned, wearing loose-fitting flannel pajamas. The food was almost ready. By the time she finished the beer, I had a large salad bowl filled with macaroni and cheese, and maybe equal parts hot dog chunks, made with an entire stick of actual butter, and then served with extra real cheddar cheese on top.
I tossed her a fork, and said, "I'm sorry, but if you love me and you can't trust yourself, let me trust you and enjoy." She just nodded and dug in. I was amazed when she finished it. I looked around to see that there were no wormholes or pocket dimensions she could have been throwing the food into somehow. She moaned, and rubbed her belly. She pulled at the wasteband of her pants, a thin band of elastic with untied draw strings, to remove that small bit of pressure from her belly, and she sighed long and deep. "Do you need to go to bed?" I asked her, standing to help her up and carry her in there. She shook her head. She worked to take in a deep breath.
"Ice cream." and removed one hand from cradling her stomach to point at her fridge/freezer unit. I went over to it, and found it stacked with boxes of ice cream of various flavors. I was halfway to her with two boxes, when I had a thought. I looked in her fridge, and saw something I thought I had noticed earlier. A full bottle of heavy cream. I grabbed her blender, and started shoving in equal parts cream and ice cream, and made her a shake. I had a thought, then, and grabbed a bottle of peanut butter, and spooned about half of it into the blender with the rest of the mix. Blended it again, and then looked all over for a funnel and some tubing. I found both in the garage, and made sure they were clean in the kitchen.
She hadn't moved, still just sitting facing where I had previously been sitting, now just a blank wall. Another thought propelled me to her room. I found 2 pairs of fuzzy handcuffs by our condom stash. They were always a joke, we had never used them for anything. But now I brought them in, hiding them behind my back, and sneakily went behind her. I knelt, and began rubbing her belly from behind. She moaned, and I was easily able to displace her hands with my own. Hers fell limp to her sides, and I quickly grabbed them both by the wrists and got them both individually handcuffed to her chair. She began to moan angrily, and seemed to wake up from a food coma then, discovering her restraints.
"What the ***? What about trust?"
"Can I trust you to enjoy this with me?" I smiled at her. She smiled back.
"Yeah, maybe. What are you gonna do, feed me like I was a 6 year old again?" Apparently she had totally missed me making that shake. I held it and the funnel behind my back, as I approached her.
"Open wide." I waited a moment, looking at her expectantly. "Wider." I repeated that until she had her mouth open as wide as she could, and had closed her eyes. I then popped the hose for the funnel into her mouth. I had attached a thick rubber band to the sides of the mouthpiece, and wrapped these around her head, securing it into her face. She then saw the milkshake, and her eyes went wide. She made some noises that could have been protest, but I was pouring it too fast. She adjusted herself in her chair several times, finally arching her back and opening her legs to allow her belly as much room as possible. When the gallon and a half to two gallons of shake were gone, I took the funnel off, and kissed her as passionately as ever anyone can kiss anyone. She pulled me into the chair, on top of her and her newly engorged belly, and she winced with pain.
"That was a bad idea. Please get off. Let's get to a bed."