Chapter 1 - short story

I knew what kind of night it was going to be the second you waddled through the door. There was a special kind of fire behind your eyes, and I knew you were angry far before you barked out,

"Food. Lots of it. Now."

I was glad I had started dinner early tonight. I was making Italian, several dishes in fact. I called it the tour of Italy. Four different types of pastas, chicken parmigiana, and of course, greasy americanized pizza.

You sit down at the table, the old wooden chair creaking under your weight. I know you don't have the patience to wait for dinner, so I quickly place a tray full of cookies in front of you.

You don't even bother to acknowledge me before you start plowing through them. I'm amazed at how quickly you get through all of cookies. I had made around two dozen of them. Though I should probably be used to your gluttony by now, I'm still rather impressed. Your stomach grumbles and you chug a large glass of whole milk within seconds.

"I want my first dinner." You command, staring up at me expectantly.

"I'm working on it, Darling. I'm sorry it's taking so long."

I try to keep my voice quiet and soothing. I know how you get when you're angry.

You grunt in acknowledgement, though you're clearly not pleased. Moments later, I place several plates of steaming pasta in front of you.

You begin shoveling mounds of pasta into your mouth, barely stoping to breathe. You don't bother to be polite. You chew with your mouth open, sauce covering your lips. I barely suppress a whimper at the sight of you.

Your white button up shirt begins to slowly ride up, exposing the bottom of your enormous stomach. I don't remember how much you weigh, but I don't dare ask. You have to be getting close to 500 though.

You finish the pasta like it was nothing.

"Was it good?" I ask, biting my lower lip.

"It was acceptable." You respond. "But there better be more. I'm hungry tonight."

I nod quickly, scrambling to plate your chicken and pizza. You eat several mouthfuls before letting out a low groan.

Burping, you begin to undo the straining buttons of your shirt. Your belly bursts out of the shirt and over your waistband. You let out a sigh of contentment, and eat two slices of pizza before taking a break. You rub your stuffed, swollen belly and smirk at me.

"Feed me." You order, slapping your stomach.

I walk over, pick up a slice of pizza, and nervously hold it up towards your mouth.

"Not like that." You snap, "Sit on my lap and pleasure me."

I straddle you, and I'm far too aware of the fact that your stuffed belly is pressed up against me.

I feed you several bites, and you grip my hips, slowly rocking beneath me. I bite my lip and stifle a moan. You stop immediately.

"No. No noises. You get to moan when I say so."

I nod quickly, biting my lip hard.

You manage to eat an entire pizza on top of everything, and your stomach is so stretched and tight, I swear its about to burst.

You're panting, letting out little burps every few seconds.

"I'm stuffed...." You groan.

I go to stand up, ready to clear the dishes.

"Wait." You bark, and I freeze. "I didn't say I was done yet. I want dessert."

Luckily, I had planned for this. I had a chocolate cake waiting, just in case. I know it's your favorite.

When I bring you two slices, you practically melt.

"I'm too full to move. Feed me." You command.

I go to grab a fork, but you grab my wrist, stopping me.

"With your hands." You whisper, your eyes dilating with lust.

With shaking hands, I grab a handful of cake and allow you to lick it off my fingers. You take your time, licking off every last crumb.

I quiver under your gaze.

"Beg for it." You whisper, licking down the side of my hand. "Beg for me."

"Please..." I manage to croak out. "Please, I'll do anything. I'll feed you whatever you want, just.. please."

"Get up."

I obey your orders. I always do. You stand up next to me, though it took you several moments. Your stomach is several inches bigger than it was when you walked in the door, and you pant for breath.

You shove me backwards, pinning me against the wall with your enormous body.

"Say it again."

"Please...."

You pin my arms above my head and I gasp.

"Do you really want to be fucked by such an obese pig?" You ask.

"Yes." I whimper. "Please. I'll treat you so well, I'll do whatever you want."

Your stomach gurgles loudly against me, and I let out a moan.

"Alright. I suppose we could have a little fun tonight. But only because I feel like it..."

As you waddle towards the bedroom, I can't help but smile.