Let's play

Chapter 1

"Let me see."

"In a minute, Connie, I just–"

"C'mon, it'll take two seconds, just let me see!"

"Or maybe we can wait until next–"

"It's not that deep, just let me see!"

Cristian Sisco, chess Grandmaster and local celebrity, had really done it now. Forever, he had dreamed about entertaining a secret double life where by night, a beautiful woman would forcibly fatten him up. Now, he was living the fantasy, and his company? Connie Cole, also known as Crime Brulee, pyromancer extraordinaire and the founder of the up-and-coming Villains Association.

She was everything he could have wanted in a…feeder? That was the word, right? She was a fantastic cook and baker to boot, funny, intelligent, a wonderful tease, and he made a decent living off of tournament prize money, but he wasn't going to complain about her heist spoils padding the joint account.

And she was gorgeous, in all her humility. She could be sitting on the porch in nothing but cutoffs and a t-shirt, and all she'd have to do was throw her mess of dark curls over one shoulder with a backward glance his way through the sliding door and he would melt.

Her pleasure meant everything to him.

His desires used to bring him shame, but in the intense spotlight of her adoration, he could now know euphoria.

Hypothetically.

At current, they were having something of a wrestling match in the living room, as she tried to pull his shirt up and he fought to keep it on. He'd gained twenty pounds recently, but he wanted to give her more. It wasn't that much, for his height–he towered over her by at least a half foot, and she wasn't short. Her disappointment would surely break him, and yet…

"Just let me see, goddammit!" With that, she threw him into the sofa and rucked up his shirt, putting his recently softened middle on display.

"Connie, I've been trying my hardest–"

And how hard, indeed. Connie was a veritable gourmand, her athletic figure a testament only to her active lifestyle, and under her tutelage, he had learned all about the local cuisine, both exotic and familiar. Still, there was only so much he could eat at once, only so much progress he could make.

A lot of things happened at once. She gasped, and smiling mischievously, biting her lip, she pressed both hands into his stomach. "Oh, Cris, you're doing so good!" she said.

Said, "Look, your efforts are really paying off! You're getting this cute little speedbump of chub, even when you haven't eaten yet…"

She flopped down on top of him and pressed her cheek to his belly, giving a contented sigh.

Said, "In a month, just watch, and we'll have those pesky hipbones buried under a nice soft layer of pudge. Now…" She at last released him, and as he basked in her praise, she straightened her outfit and fetched the chessboard off the shelf. "Let's play?" Along with that, she retrieved a couple of bags of takeout, and slid it all onto the table.

It was their little Friday night tradition, since shortly after he started teaching her the game–after everything that had gone down with her sisters and the Division of Heroics.

If she won, they did things her way, and she got to pamper and praise him all night.

And if he won…well.

He sat down at the board. She was white this time; she moved her king’s pawn up two and pushed the box of cookies she’d bought towards him. “Have some dessert, babe, I got this with you in mind. Brain food and whatnot.”

“The effort is always appreciated.” He moved out his queen’s knight and took a cookie.

As the game played out, the TV in the corner kept them up to speed with what went on in the city:

‘In other news, the National Bank was held up this afternoon by the duo of Shooting Star and Whirlpool–”

“That’s my girls,” muttered Connie, studying the board. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to be a villain with us? You’ve got the smarts for it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Connie, I don’t have any powers.”

She moved a bishop. He captured it with a rook.

“I’m just saying, it could be fun.”

“I’ll leave that to you, and I’m sorry, baby, but…checkmate.”

***

Cris had won, fair and square, and Connie knew what that meant.

Taking on the bossy bitch role still intimidated her somewhat, but she’d weather the storm if it meant she got to hear his soft moans of pleasure, see his beautiful body convulse beneath her.

As she had always said, if it rained…well, you know. But with Cris, it was always more of a refreshing drizzle; the kind of rain you wanted to walk in for the genuine joy of it.

“Oh, you’re the one’s about to be sorry!” Yanking him off the couch by the collar of his shirt, she dragged him to bed, not forgetting the takeout. “On your knees, swine!”

“Yes Mistress,” he conceded.

The language was all agreed upon beforehand. ‘Swine’ wasn’t her favorite, but ‘Mistress’ was okay. He still thought it was weird when she referred to the bedroom as her ‘dungeon,’ but sometimes you had to compromise.

Only, logistically, once she had him facedown, she realized maybe this wasn’t the most logistically sound.

“Get on your back. I changed my mind.”

“Yes Mis–mffmmm,” his words were lost to moans and fits of squirming as she straddled him. Grabbing a fistful of his dark, curly hair, she pulled his head back, and forced a burger into his mouth.

“Much better.”

Soon, the sweets were gone, and the fast food didn’t last long, either.

“You probably like that, don’t you, you…um, mindless pig!” she improvised.

She got her answer in his groan of anticipation, the bucking of his hips to grind his erection against her through both their sets of jeans.

She smacked his now-distended stomach, open-hand.

“Harder, Connie!” he gasped.

“Oh, I’ll give it to you good, piggy! I’ll give it–”

SMACK!

“FUCK! FUCK! Sorry. Sorry. Square root of i.”

Aaaand there was the safeword.

Immediately, Connie got off of him. “No no no, don’t say sorry. Are you okay? Do you need water? Was I too mean?”

“Nah…nah,” he said between heaving breaths. “Honestly, you could be meaner. That last slap just hit a little too hard is all. To be fair, I did ask…”

She retreated, curling up against the headboard. “The last thing I wanna do is hurt you.”

“Connie…Connie, no.” For the first time, he was the one to initiate contact, wrapping his arms around her. He brought her body to his, and yeah, his gain was slow-going and he only had a stuffed little starter-belly to show, but it was HIS, and that was all that really mattered as his round middle pressed against hers…

“Thanks,” she said, “for dealing with me.”

He laughed and tentatively gave her a squeeze. “Thanks for teaching me everything I know about all this.”