Chapter 1 - The Prologue

It is dark in here, quiet as a tomb. I am alone in my room or to be more accurate, my cell. I know she is coming. I hear her footsteps outside my door and the food cart wheels squeaking and echoing down the hall. On cue, my belly grumbles with hunger, and I salivate in sick anticipation. I wish I could control my body, keep it from reacting like this, but I can't.

She has me trained like Pavlov's puppies. If I hear her heels clicking, or even just think of her, I start to grow hungry. Very hungry. Famished.

I wish she didn't have this control over me.

I smell her sweet sensual scent even before I see her. It drifts into my nostrils , like the sweetest of feminine smells, but with a bit of muskiness and sulfur lingering in it, a bit of smokiness and heat, reminding me of who she really is - not some sweet little girl at all but a monster bent on my - my - my - my what? My fattening? Certainly. My weakening? Without a doubt. My destruction? We will see.

Along with her scent, the delicious aroma of baked goods fresh from her oven rises into my nostrils, and I feel them flare open. In this sensuous smell, I am transported to heaven for a moment, knowing that I am hell-bound for certain.

She enters my room, and in the flood of light, I can barely see her over my massive belly. Even my fat cheeks have grown so rounded that they partially block my view of her sweet face and body.

Sweet? Did I say she was sweet? She is anything but sweet. No, she may appear sweet, but most sinful things do.

"Hungry, big boy?" she asks playfully, giggling as she winks a peppermint-colored eye at me. "I hope you slept well." The light shines around her, making a ruby-red halo of the outline of her hair.

I glance toward the open door. Like I do everyday, I think about that. If only I could escape, I would struggle to get up, push her down and run.

My eyes return to her but not quickly enough. She sees me and knows what I am thinking.

"You know, Chubs, resistance is futile," she hisses at me, her face now twisting a bit wickedly. "You can barely move, and I am strong, far stronger than you. Your body, your appetites, your desires have all betrayed you and weakened your spirit."

I grunt in agreement, nodding my head, feeling my cheeks and chins wobble.

"You are simply unable to do anything but be my plaything," she adds, her voice softening once again. "A flabby round slab of humanity for me to feed, fatten and fondle." She pushes her hands beneath my huge belly and giggles. "And, baby, we've only just begun."

I catch a glimpse of her slender but shapely body, her sweet face with its wicked sexy smile, her twinkling eye. I feel myself getting aroused by her sight, by her smell, by her touch, by the promise of being fed by her. Deep beneath the folds of my huge gut, I feel myself getting hard. I don't want to be turned on by her, and I fight it, trying to think of anything else, but my willpower is weak now. I just can't stop it.

She pushes away from me, her long fingers poking into my soft flabby body. I hear her pushing the food cart closer to me. She climbs on top of me with a tray filled with pastries. "Oh, am I going to stuff today!" she exclaims gleefully.

No matter how much I fight the feeling, I am aroused by her sensual body, by the smell of those fresh-baked pastries and by what is about to happen. I don't enjoy being turned on like this, but I can't help it. And as horrible as it is, I know even worse is yet to come, when she transforms from a beautiful girl to . . . to . . . I can't even say it, but I can't stop thinking about it.

She breaths her hot breath into my ear, then whispers in that sexy sweet-breathed voice, "Open wide, my fat boy....," the last word lingering in my ear and echoing in my brain.

I open my mouth in response, an involuntary reaction to her. She has trained me well. She stuffs an �clair in, then giggles as the soft creamy middle squirts out upon my soft flabby right breast. She licks it off, slowly, slowly, letting her tongue linger on my nipple. She reaches up and massages my neck, then kisses a path there, as she reaches for another pastry.

I watch as she starts to change. I want to close my eyes, but just like wanting to close my mouth, I can't quite do it. I am weak, and her power is strong.

Her transformation is both horrifying and arousing to me. She starts to grow a lot bigger, taller and thicker, more hourglass shaped, as her breasts swell, her thighs thicken and her hips widen. At the same time, her face -- in fact her whole body -- starts to glow like coals in a fire, and her skin reddens. Sharp curved horns emerge out of her head, and soon a pointed devil's tail swirls toward me from her shapely bottom, poking my fat belly as she laughs. Her laughter is no longer a girl's giggle but a full throaty laugh of evil, like a sound echoing from hell itself. I feel her sensuous body heat up, hotter than any fever. And I feel my willpower melt against that heat.

"Open up, and eat," the curvaceous succubus commands, still laughing.

And I do.

She pushes pastry after pastry into me. All those fattening calories are heading toward my growing gluttonous gut. I want to stop this, and yet I don't want to stop it. You see, it feels so good, so damned good! In fact, before long, I feel like I am going to pass out from the pleasure of all this - and from the horror of it all!

Struck with the reality of my life, I want to escape. I try to suppress my consciousness by closing my eyes. I try to think of nothing, to get rid of the worries I have, to empty my mind as my body fills up so horrendously. However, I cannot escape her so easily, and my mind drifts back to the time just before I first fell under the succubus's spell.