Chapter 1

A year later, the apartment wasn't just their home; it was a landscape she had outgrown. The hallway, once a simple passage from the bedroom to the living room, had become the most challenging part of Savanna's day. It was a tightrope walk of flesh and drywall.

She took a deep breath, the air rattling in her chest, and began the short journey. With every step, her hips brushed against the walls on both sides. It wasn't a gentle graze; it was a constant, friction-heavy slide. She had to walk with a deliberate, rolling waddle, her thighs pressed so tightly together they moved as a single, colossal column. The sound of her skin rubbing against the painted walls was a constant, rhythmic shhh-thump, shhh-thump.

"I can do this," she muttered to herself, though the words were muffled by the fullness of her chin.

Her belly was the worst offender. It had dropped lower and lower over the months, a heavy, apron-like expanse of soft flesh that now swayed violently with every movement she made. It wasn't a gentle sway anymore; it was a pendulum, a heavy weight that pulled her off balance. As she shifted her weight to her left leg, her belly swung hard to the right, nearly knocking her into the wall. She stumbled, catching herself with a hand against the wallpaper, her entire body rippling and jiggling from the impact.

"Careful," Nathan's voice floated from the living room. He sounded calm, almost amused. "Don't damage the merchandise."

"I'm trying," she panted, wiping a sheen of sweat from her forehead. She pushed off the wall and continued toward the bathroom doorway.

This was the gauntlet. The standard apartment doorway, thirty inches wide, had become a formidable enemy. Savanna stopped in front of it, eyeing the frame with a mixture of dread and dark anticipation. She knew from painful experience that her hips were now wider than the doorway itself.

She turned sideways, sucking in a breath that did nothing to reduce her massive circumference. She had to wedge herself in. She pressed her right shoulder and hip against the jamb, her soft flesh yielding and then compressing as she forced her body through the opening. It was a tight, squeaky fit. The wood groaned, and she let out a soft whimper as her belly scraped against the opposite side of the frame, the soft dough of her lower roll flattening against the obstacle.

With a grunt of exertion, she pushed through, stumbling into the bathroom as her body popped free from the constriction. The momentum sent a massive shockwave through her, her ass and thighs quaking violently, her belly swinging out and slapping against her thighs with a wet, heavy sound.

She stood there for a moment, catching her breath, looking at herself in the mirror. She was enormous. A year of relentless feeding, of the "Accelerate" formula, and of Nathan's obsession had transformed her into something truly mythical. Her pear shape had become extreme, her lower body a vast, continent of softness that dwarfed her upper half.

Nathan was standing by the scale, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He was looking at her with that hungry, predatory stare that never failed to make her weak in the knees-or as weak as she could be with knees this thick.

"Ready?" he asked, gesturing to the heavy-duty scale they'd had to buy six months ago. The old one had stopped at 400 pounds.

Savanna looked at it, then back at her reflection. She was genuinely worried now. The fantasy was hot, but the reality was... heavy. She couldn't walk ten feet without getting winded. She couldn't fit through doors without struggling. She was becoming a prisoner of her own body, of their shared desire.

"Nathan," she whispered, her voice thick. "Look at me. I'm... I'm barely mobile."

"I see you," he said, stepping forward. He ran a hand down her arm, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her upper arm. "I see a goddess. I see my masterpiece."

"I'm worried," she admitted, her eyes searching his. "What if... what if I get too big? What if I can't leave the bedroom anymore?"

A shiver ran down her spine as she said it. It was a terrifying thought. And yet, deep in her core, she felt a pulse of pure, liquid heat. The idea of being bed-bound, of being truly, utterly helpless and dependent on him... it was the most arousing thing she could imagine. She was addicted to the softness, to the weight, to the way he looked at her like she was the most precious thing on earth.

Nathan saw the conflict in her eyes and smiled. He knew. He always knew.

"Then I'll take care of you," he said simply. "I'll feed you. I'll wash you. I'll love every inch of you." He guided her toward the scale. "But first, let's see what a year of devotion looks like."

Savanna stepped onto the platform, the metal groaning under her massive weight. She looked down, but her belly, now hanging well past her knees, blocked her view of the numbers.

Nathan looked down, whistling low. "Damn, Savanna."

"What?" she asked, her heart pounding. "What is it?"

"Seven hundred and twenty pounds," he read, his voice thick with awe. "We've added another two hundred and twenty pounds. You're over 700 pounds, baby."

Savanna let out a shaky breath. 720 pounds. The number was staggering. It should have scared her to death. But as she stood there, feeling the incredible heaviness of her own body, the way her flesh spilled out in every direction, she didn't feel fear. She felt a rush of dark, sinful pride.

"Seven hundred and twenty," she repeated, testing the weight of the words. She looked at Nathan, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her plush face. "I guess I'm not done growing yet."