Chapter 1

Ding! The sharp tone of his phone pierced through the haze of sleep, pulling James reluctantly from his slumber. He didn’t need to check to know who it was—only one person texted him this early. Groaning softly, he ran a hand over his face, rubbing away the grogginess, and reached for the phone. As expected, the message was from her:

'Gmorning! Hope ur hungryyy…'

Just as he finished reading, a knock echoed from the front door. Breakfast. He sighed, sinking deeper into his mattress for a few extra moments. What would it be today? Heavy, syrup-soaked pancakes? A mountain of eggs and bacon fit for a family? He half-hoped someone passing by would snatch his delivery, giving him a temporary reprieve. That would at least buy him more time before she– Ding!

'Get up.'

He groaned louder this time, his body protesting as he slowly heaved his heavy form upright. Could he possibly be bigger than he was yesterday? That’s certainly how it felt. His belly shifted as he struggled to the edge of the bed, the large, round mass getting in the way. He paused, panting, thinking back to when getting up used to be effortless. Now, even this small task left him winded.

James finally stood, the weight of his body settling heavily into his legs as he lumbered toward the front door, doing his best to ignore the slight jiggle of his moobs with each step. Dressed in just boxers, he didn’t bother with modesty—the delivery person was always long gone by now. He yanked the door open, looking down at the large white plastic bag with a brown box nestled inside. Widening his stance, he bent down with a grunt, grabbing the bag before closing the door behind him and trudging back to the couch.

Collapsing heavily onto the cushions, he tore open the bag on the coffee table. Inside, eight sloppily wrapped breakfast sandwiches from the cafe down the street. It was one of his favorite spots, a fact she surely knew, though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually gone there himself.

The rich scent of bacon and sausage wafted up to him, causing his stomach to growl in response. How could he be hungry after the feast he’d devoured for dinner last night? No matter how much she made him eat, he was always ravenous the next morning. He unwrapped the first sandwich and took a bite, sinking back into the cushions. With the remote, he flicked the TV on, his focus already drifting to the next bite. The sooner he finished breakfast, the more time he'd have to rest before lunch.

—- —- —- —- —-

The warm water of the shower cascaded over James' body, rinsing away the last traces of soap from his fattened form. He ran his hands over his chest before turning to let the stream hit his back. His gaze dropped, and his hands instinctively rested on his gut. Grabbing it with both hands, he gave it a gentle shake, feeling its weight, still bloated from breakfast. The soft jiggle continued long after he stopped. Even after months of living like this, it still amazed him—how far his belly protruded, how he hadn’t seen his toes in what felt like forever.

He knew he ate a lot—because she made him. But part of him never really expected the weight to stick. Especially in the beginning, when his metabolism could keep up with the extra food. Now, it felt like his body had simply surrendered, letting the fat pile on without resistance. It was happening so easily, so quickly. He knew better than to dwell on where this was all headed, on how much larger he’d get. Those thoughts made him either anxious or... aroused. Not that he’d ever admit the latter to her. Whether it would amuse her or anger her, he wasn’t sure. Still, deep down, he had the feeling she already knew.

Focusing on the past was easier. He’d convinced himself that he couldn’t have avoided this. She was crazy, that’s all. Sure, he had made mistakes before, and if he could go back, maybe things would have turned out differently. But the past was the past, and he was a different person now. Who was she to hold his life in the balance over things that happened years ago? He still didn’t know the answer—no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t figure out much about her.

James sighed as he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist, barely able to pull the ends together over his belly. Out of habit, he tapped his phone to check the time. A text from her was waiting, as always.

'Ur going out for lunch today. Antonio’s. You know what to wear'