Fatter - Part 7

“Baby? Baby, are you okay?” 

I woke up. I was groggy--something felt like it was pressing down all around me. Then I remembered it was me. I was fat. Enormously so. 

Reggie was looking into my eyes with deep concern. But that wasn’t all that had changed--he wasn’t wearing the poor, ratty clothes I remembered. He seemed clean-cut, not the wandering street urchin desperate for his next fuck. 

“I’m… fine…” I managed, only barely. I was still trying to catch my breath from the… nightmare? The details were foggy. I could barely remember them. Something happened to make me this way, make me this huge, but every time I felt the memory surface it flitted away like a scared fish. 

“Here, eat this. You’ll feel better,” Reggie said, placing a cookie directly in my mouth. I chewed without thought, still trying to remember that dream I’d had. Was it some sort of curse? Something about a car accident and an old homeless man… and I was thinner. Much thinner. I was still able to drive a car in the dream, even though I hadn’t been that slim since I was in high school.

“Oops, you ate the bag. I’ll go get another,” Reggie quipped and got off the couch to make his way to the kitchen. 

“Sure,” I replied. The cookies were making me feel better, although there was still that nagging sensation that something wasn’t right. That it wasn’t supposed to be this way. That Reggie and I weren’t supposed to be together, that we’d never met a few years ago. That Reggie wasn’t a feeder and I his feedee. That I was never supposed to be a huge megachub who could barely walk around his own house and rarely got up off the couch but for food, sex, and the occasional shower or bowel movement.

One thing bubbled up to the surface--this creeping terror that I had been getting fatter every day. There was nothing I could do to stop it, and no matter what I did, I just kept getting larger and larger and larger. No amount of exercise or starvation could prevent the pounds from piling on. It eventually cost me my job, my love life, my sex life, even the freedom to go outside. And it all horrified me.

Which was odd, since I knew logically I’d run headlong into all of those outcomes with Reggie. It was the goal, after all--for him to feed and pleasure and take care of me, forever. If that resulted in me getting bigger, then that was an added bonus.

Reggie came back with a box of chocolates and started feeding me one by one. I knew this always meant he was in the mood to fuck--chocolates were a romantic snack, after all. The first few bites filled me with a sudden, inexplicable horror. It was as though a past life suddenly realized the curse hadn’t been broken; it had merely changed form.

But each bite made the horror fade. By the time the box was done and Reggie was busy digging under my enormous gut to find my hard and leaking cock, I couldn’t remember the dream at all. By the time I came, I couldn’t even remember dreaming in the first place.