Object of Desire

Chapter 1

Brad's gaze lingered with a mix of pride and desire as Janice's figure, vast and imposing, moved steadily beside him. The gentle evening breeze did little to cool her warm, soft skin; it was an insignificant force against the grandeur of her form. The sight of her, so much larger than his lean frame, filled him with a sense of achievement that he savored in silence.

As they ambled through the quiet neighborhood, the contrast between them was stark—she, a living monument to indulgence, and he, almost diminutive in her shadow. Her steps were slow and deliberate, her weight causing slight tremors on the pavement with each footfall.

A nostalgic smile curled Brad's lips as his mind wandered back to their fateful encounter, years ago—a memory he cherished like a precious secret. Janice had been the epitome of health, her body athletic and taut, every curve a testament to her discipline. How different she was now.

He recalled the thrill of introducing her to a new world, one where restraint was a forgotten concept, and pleasure was measured in calories consumed. It started innocently enough, a playful challenge here, a sweet treat there, but soon, the floodgates opened. Carbs became their shared language, with each pastry and pasta dish whispering promises of growth and contentment.

Feederism was their clandestine dance, and he led her skillfully through each step. The stuffing sessions were a ritual, the funnel feedings a rite of passage. He remembered how her eyes would widen at the sight of the feast he prepared, a mixture of anticipation and surrender gleaming within them.

With every bite, Janice entrusted more of herself to him, allowing her belly to swell into a constant, comforting fullness. Her body responded eagerly, flesh rounding out, increasingly pliant under his attentive hands. She was clay, and he was the sculptor, molding her form into a living testament to their shared decadence.

The walk continued, the evening growing darker around them, but Brad hardly noticed. His thoughts remained locked in the past, reliving the journey that transformed Janice from the fit and slender woman he met into the abundant goddess who walked beside him now.

Brad's gaze lingered fondly on Janice as they approached the staircase leading up to their cozy abode, the warm glow of streetlights casting shadows that danced with her every step. The night had been yet another culinary triumph; the elegant dining room had borne witness to her voracious appetite, serving dish after dish until she had consumed enough for four. Each course was a celebration of flavor, and Janice reveled in it, her ample form a testament to their shared indulgence.

As she placed her foot on the first stair, Brad could see the effort each movement required. Her wide hips, a feature he adored, seemed to sway a little more pronouncedly with the strain, their usual rhythmic grace giving way to a labored motion. It was a dance of sorts, one of persistence and determination, set to the soundtrack of softly echoed footsteps.

By the time she reached the third stair, Janice paused, her heavy breathing punctuating the stillness of the night. Brad, who had been following closely behind, drinking in the sight of her colossal 500 pound silhouette, drew nearer. He watched as her chest heaved, the exertion clear in the set of her shoulders and the flush on her cheeks.

"I... I need a moment," Janice panted, leaning against the railing. "Brad, it's like... the bigger I get, the faster I tire out."

Her words hung between them, tinged with vulnerability. Brad stepped forward, slipping his arms around her substantial waist with tender ease. He pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck, feeling the warmth of her skin against his lips.

"Janice," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. "To me, you're perfect. There's no such thing as too fat. You could never be too much for me."

In his embrace, Janice's heart fluttered—a mix of reassurance and unease stirring within her. She knew he meant every word, but lately, a gnawing thought had taken root in her mind. A desire to shed some of the weight that had so lovingly been encouraged to accumulate, but how could she confess this growing need to the man who found such joy in her ever-expanding form?

She remained silent, unsure of how to voice her concerns, even as Brad's affirmations wrapped around her like the softest blanket. In this moment, suspended between her love for him and the whispering doubts about her own body, Janice realized the complexity of their relationship was as deep as the love that bound them together.

Janice's lungs finally filled with a deep, steadying breath, and the couple's embrace gently unwound. She ascended the remaining steps with a labored determination, her body moving with the heaviness of satiation. The door creaked open, granting them passage to the sanctuary of their shared existence. As she crossed the threshold, her fingers worked at the buttons and zippers that confined her, clothing slipping away like petals from a blooming flower.

Brad lingered in the hallway, his gaze affixed to Janice's form with unabashed admiration. The cascade of fabric revealed the vast canvas of her skin, a landscape he had helped cultivate. Watching the rhythmic dance of her flesh, the hypnotic sway of her abundant curves, he felt a surge of desire. Not just for her, but for the future he envisioned—one where she eclipsed her current grandeur.

"Go ahead, love," he called softly to her. "Get comfortable in bed. I'll bring us some wine to wind down the evening."

Her affirmative murmur was a distant hum as he turned towards the kitchen. The clink of glass on glass punctuated the silence as he filled two goblets with a rich, velvety red. His hand didn't tremble as he retrieved the small vial from the cupboard, the fine powder within it promising a languid drowsiness. With a practiced motion, he sprinkled the contents into one of the glasses, the granules dissolving without a trace.

He swirled the wine, ensuring an even blend, and carried the pair of glasses back to Janice, who now lay amidst the sea of sheets—a queen in her expansive domain. Her eyes, soft with trust, met his as he handed her the doctored drink.

"To us," he toasted, the hidden meaning of his words sinking beneath the surface of his affectionate smile.

Janice's lips parted eagerly, the wine's bouquet enveloping her senses before she took it down in three generous swallows. The crimson liquid was a siren call she never resisted, and tonight was no different. They exchanged playful quips, their laughter mingling with the night air, while Brad watched the gradual descent of her eyelids, her breaths deepening with each passing moment.

"Feeling relaxed?" he asked, his voice a low thrum that vibrated with anticipation.

"Very," she murmured, a contented smile curving her lips.

Brad's hands were tender yet purposeful as he adjusted the bed to a recline, soft clicks marking the locking of the frame. He moved to her side, taking her wrists gently and securing them to the posts with padded restraints—then her ankles followed. Janice's gaze fluttered up to his, a haze of confusion clouding her eyes.

"Brad? What are you doing?" Her voice was a whisper, the edges dulled by the wine's effect.

He leaned close, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered his vision for her future—a future where her body would be a testament to his adoration, a living sculpture of indulgence. "I want to see you grow even more, my love. I want your belly to drape over your thighs like a lavish curtain when you stand."

Janice listened, her heart hammering against the cage of her ribs. Each word painted vivid images in her mind: her belly, a mound of softness resting on the mattress; her thighs, pillars of flesh that defied easy movement; her hips and rear, so wide that doorframes would become mere suggestions.

"And your breasts," he continued, his hands tracing the expanse of her chest with a reverence that sent shivers down her spine despite the warmth of the room, "they'll be magnificent, heavy, and full—like the richest cream spilling over, impossible to contain."

Her body, already a canvas of their shared desires, seemed to pulse with the potential of his words, the enormity of his aspirations both daunting and darkly thrilling. She lay there, the grandeur of his dreams for her echoing through the silent chamber of her thoughts.

Tears streamed down Janice's cheeks, each one a silent plea as she looked up at Brad, her voice choked with emotion. "Please, no more," she begged, the tremble in her words betraying the terror of becoming even larger. "I can't... I don't want to be fatter."

Brad's eyes, however, only glinted with an intensifying desire at her supplication. Her vulnerability was like kindling to his flame, igniting a deeper longing within him to see her grow beyond her current size. It was as though her tears were the very nectar that nourished his obsession.

"Shh," he soothed, brushing away the wet trails on her face with a tenderness that contrasted his unyielding resolve. "You're beautiful to me, no matter what. But this is our journey together. Every curve, every pound is a testament to our love."

Janice's heart ached, caught between the need for self-preservation and the fear of losing him. As much as she craved his affection, the thought of expanding even further made her soul recoil. She closed her eyes against the vision of herself he painted—a vision that now seemed more like a prison than a paradise.

Brad kissed her forehead gently before withdrawing from their intimate space. He moved toward the kitchen, his steps measured and purposeful. There, he began his alchemical work, assembling ingredients with the precision of a craftsman. Heavy cream, melted butter, and a concoction of sugar and oil blended into a thick, calorie-laden potion designed to expand her body to his desires.

Finally, he reached for the vial of Ghrelin, its contents promising insatiable hunger. His hand didn't falter as he poured the hormone into the mixture, the clear liquid disappearing into the creamy abyss. With this, he'd ensure her appetite would become as boundless as his aspirations for her physique.

"More," he whispered to himself, the word both a decree and a vow. "Always more."

As the blender whirred to life, mixing the potent elixir, Brad imagined Janice's form swelling with each indulgence, her figure a canvas stretching to accommodate his lavish strokes of excess. In his mind's eye, he saw her not as she was, but as she would be—magnificent, immense, and entirely his creation.

Brad maneuvered the heavy cart into the bedroom, its wheels groaning under the weight of three gallons of his specially crafted concoction. Each container was poised like a trophy atop the cart, their contents sloshing with the motion. He hung the first gallon on the old, sturdy holder that had seen countless such feedings. It stood as a silent sentinel to his devotion to her growth.

"Please, Brad... don't," Janice's voice quivered with a plea, her eyes locking onto the milky fluid that promised to swell her already ample form. But there was no turning back for him; the sight of the filled-to-capacity containers only fueled his determination.

"Shhh, my love," he soothed, brushing a stray lock of hair from her sweat-dampened forehead. "I have a surprise for you," he whispered, his voice laced with a thrill. "You're going to grow even more beautiful for me. You'll always be hungry, and you will beg to be fed."

Janice's heart hammered against her chest, her breaths shallow and rapid. She didn't want this—not the unrelenting hunger, not the ceaseless growth. Yet, she saw in his eyes that refusal was not an option. The hunger would come; it would consume her as surely as she would consume the endless calories.

With trembling hands, she reached for the funnel tube, her touch hesitant. The cold plastic felt alien against her lips, a harbinger of her impending surrender. Her mind raced, tallying up the caloric onslaught, calculating the transformation each gulp would make upon her body. She imagined the scale's numbers climbing, the fabric of her clothes straining, her reflection morphing into someone she could scarcely recognize.

"Let's just get this over with," she murmured, a resigned whisper that carried the weight of her internal struggle. Maybe once sated, she could reason with him, appeal to the man who loved her beyond size and shape. But deep down, buried beneath layers of trepidation, she knew the truth: addiction lurked in those gallons, ready to ensnare her afresh. If she knew the full potency of what awaited her, would she still acquiesce?

She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the deluge. The decision was made; she would endure the feeding and then fight for herself, for her autonomy. With one last glance at Brad, whose anticipation was palpable, Janice opened her mouth and accepted the tube.

The funnel nestled against her lips, a gateway to indulgence that she could not escape. Brad's fingers danced across the valve, adjusting the flow to a steady stream that Janice could manage without choking. The rich concoction slid down her throat, each swallow amplifying her sense of fullness. She lay there, bound to their bed, surrendering to the rhythm of consumption as Brad's hands caressed her abdomen.

His touch was gentle, almost reverent, tracing the contours of her belly that swelled with every ounce of fluid. A warmth spread through her, mingling with the pleasure that always bubbled up during these moments. Moans escaped her, muffled around the plastic, acknowledging the carnal satisfaction that this act of feeding ignited within her.

Brad watched her with a hunger in his eyes, a craving not for food but for the transformation he orchestrated. He replaced the empty container with the third gallon, the final testament to his dedication to her growth. The sight of her, so full yet about to consume even more, sent a thrill through him that was more potent than any aphrodisiac.

"Almost there," he whispered, encouragement and promise woven into his words. The fresh gallon began its descent, gravity guiding the calorie-laden elixir into Janice's waiting body.

She focused on the sensation, the relentless expansion, feeling her skin stretch taut over the burgeoning mass of her midsection. The heaviness of her gut was a testament to her compliance, her love, her trust in Brad's desires. He stood beside her, entranced by the sight of her once trim waistline disappearing beneath layers of soft flesh that quivered with each gulp.

Janice swallowed again and again, a metronome of indulgence ticking away the last of her restraint. Each mouthful solidified her place in this world they had created—a world where bigger was better, and she was the centerpiece of Brad's affectionate obsession. With the fall of the last drop from the third gallon, she lay there, panting slightly, awash in a cocktail of satiation and trepidation, wondering just how much further she would expand under Brad's devoted care.

The final drops of the concoction vanished down the funnel, and Janice's chest rose and fell with labored breaths. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she lay there, her skin flushed from the effort and warmth of their room. She felt stuffed beyond capacity, a sensation that was both discomforting and yet intimately familiar.

Brad's hands were steady as he unfastened the restraints, his fingers brushing against her wrists with a gentle touch that belied his earlier fervor. As each limb was freed, Janice felt a mix of relief and dread. The night had been long, too long, marked by decadence and indulgence that she had come to both crave and fear.

"Please, Brad," she panted, her voice laced with desperation, "no more... I can't..."

He paused, looking into her eyes. There was love there, but it was clouded by an insatiable hunger of a different kind—a hunger for her growth, not just physically, but in the fulfillment of a shared, dark fantasy. He kissed her forehead, a silent promise that he would always be there, even as he pushed her boundaries.

"Shh, it's over now," he murmured, though they both understood it was never truly over.

As if on cue, a deep, cavernous growling echoed from Janice's belly. It was as though some primal beast had awoken within her, demanding sustenance despite the impossible amount she had already consumed. Her eyes widened in disbelief; how could she possibly be hungry after all of that?

"Brad!" she exclaimed, her voice rising with panic and confusion. "It's happening again!"

Without hesitation, Brad moved to her side, his presence a strange comfort amidst the chaos of her body's betrayal. "I've got you," he assured her, even as he fetched more food from the kitchen.

The spread he returned with was a feast fit for a banquet hall. BBQ ribs glistened with sauce, a mountain of pizza slices teetered precariously, and cheesecake sat rich and tempting. A jug of heavy cream stood ready, its creamy contents promising smoothness and sweetness.

Janice looked at the food, then at Brad, her heart pounding with a mixture of dread and desire. With trembling hands, she reached for the first slice of pizza, the aroma making her stomach clench with need. Bite by bite, she devoured the offerings laid out before her, the hunger pangs so intense she could scarcely believe they were real.