chapter 1

His eyes fluttered open as he stared up at the bright light. His chubby body ached all over, more than it usually did from carrying its burden of flesh and fat and as he groaned, stretching, his felt near naked form heavy against a soft warm carpet.

He stopped with a jerk, trying to sort in his mind the preceding events...could this be...? Was life's end in soft warm darkness? His head spun trying to orient himself.

For a moment he thought he had made it to heaven. But why would he be feeling pain? His whole body ached and there was an incredible burning at his throat. Reaching up to touch his thick neck, he felt the raw tender skin and winced as a feeling like fire shot through his skin. Memories started flooding back. The rope, the stool, the deep despairing pain in his heart.

Sitting up he noticed his reflection in the full length mirror mounted to his closet door.

What used to be THEIR closet door. SHE always had to make sure her outfit matched. Looks mattered to her.

Looking around he saw the rope that just minutes ago he had tried to take his own life with. Snapped clean in two. "I know I bought that strong enough to hold this disgusting body. They must of gypped me at the hardware store." Looking back into the mirror he noticed something glinting under the edge of the bed behind him. Turning to look at it he noticed it was his pocket knife. It must have fell out of his pocket when the rope snapped.

OK...this is the way then, he thought picking p the knife, it will have to be this way instead.

He wrapped his fingers around the cold lump of steel and snapped it open, thankful he kept it sharp. He turned to look into the mirror, wanting to see the life leave his eyes, just as she had left him. As he brought the blade close there was a flicker in the mirror. It gave him a moment's pause. He blinked his eyes to clear his head as he touched the cold steel to his wrist.

"You just don't stop do you!!?" Startled, he almost dragged the knife across his skin. Looking at the mirror he noticed he was replaced by a gorgeous vision.

She was youngish, curvy and most deliciously blonde. Her diaphanous form faded in and out in front of him as if being tuned in by some unworldly receiver.

He waved his hand through her slowly solidifying mist of warm sparkles. "I'm dreaming," he said, "or that rope was around long enough to cut the oxygen to my brain."

He struggled to his feet, no sense now to do what he had long planned. Not with company present and especially not with company like this.

"Who...What ...." he croaked, struggling with the rope still knotted around his neck. Gathering his breath he repeated "Who and what the hell are you." he took another swipe through the coalescing sparkles, this time to discover a warm softness...a tingling, strangely loving fluid sensation as if his hand was moving though a warm effervescence.

"If you don't stop sticking your hand in places it doesn't belong, I'm not going to be much more than Tinkerbell's glitter." Chastised, he pulled his hands back and returned to mess with the rope around his neck. She slowly materialized in front of him, seeming to step out of the mirror. Bending down she picked up the forgotten blade and turned back to him. "How about you hold still and we use this thing for its proper use?"

He nodded, watching her, mindful of the stinging sensation he had felt at the very end. He dropped his hands to his sides, a bit uncomfortable all things considered... here he was half naked, underwear bunched up his rear end from his struggle and his drool soaking the front of a very tight and uncomfortable (but expensive) polo shirt.

He watched her slowly sharpen focus as she became more and more real, jumping as her hand brushed the side of his belly and breast as she reached toward the rope with that very very sharp knife.

"Lean forward a bit my fat friend," she said smiling " your belly is in the way."

He looked down at her with a startled look on his face. No one had ever called him fat in a fun way. He kinda liked it. Her small fingers slipped under the tightened rope around his neck and pulled it away from him the best that she could. He was so close he could smell a fresh scent of pine trees emanating from her thick golden hair. Her skin was oddly dark for a blonde. Her closeness had him so distracted that he didn't even notice she had sliced the rope away already and closed the knife. Very gently her fingers danced over his raw and burning flesh as she inspected the damage. Finding his senses he repeated his earlier question. "You're avoiding the question...what are you?"

How much should she tell him? Would he even believe her if she did, despite her other-worldly materialization.

She reached up and stroked the soft fat of his neck where the rope had burned, how very long she had ached to do this one simple thing, all these years, these many years she had watched this boy, now this man in her charge, watched him, growing deeper and deeper in love with him, watching his body soften and swell so magnificently.

She smiled and let her hand trail down his curving front, the fabric drying and smoothing under her fingers, for the first time actually touching him.

Reaching up for his underchin she gently grasped to soft bulge of fat there and whispered, "my friend, I don't think you will believe me if I told you what I am."

"Try me" he said, still not quite believing what he was seeing...and feeling. She smiled, now very real...real enough to radiate an amazing, sensual warmth, her fingers feather soft as they deftly sliced the knotted rope around his neck.

She slowly pulled the loop over his shoulders, ignoring it as it dropped to the floor between them.

"It's a long story," she said, holding the glittering knife in front of his eyes, "I definitely don't think you're going to believe me without some proof."

As he watched wide eyed as the once solid and very real knife dissolved in her hand. He reached out where it had been only to touch her warm palm. "How did you do that? Who are you? WHAT are you?" he asked again, not believing his own senses.

He shook his head and turned away, "You are either my indigestion or I'm dreaming, probably I'm dead or more likely near comatose and hallucinating....so whoever or whatever you are just leave me alone, let me finish what I started. I am a wreck mentally and, as you can plainly see, physically."

She just stood there watching him, waiting, her arms crossed under a pair of the most amazing breasts he had ever seen.

"Alright, alright....you want to know why?" he answered, wanting rid of this hallucination however appealing, "Well, I've eaten my way out of a reasonable life and alienated the one woman who I THOUGHT loved me. Or did until I became so fat and gross and disgusting. And acting on her latest suggestion I'm going to pull the plug on this miserable existence. So...if you will excuse me...."