4 years of feeding her

10pm and she just put two pizzas in the oven. She’s so overweight now it’s almost as though she’s giving up resisting me. It’s not like she should be hungry, she had dinner with the kids only a few hours ago, a nice healthy chicken and potatoes. Of course she followed it up with cookie dough ice cream. It was after the ice cream and a large bottle of WKD that she leaned on her side on the sofa, belly out, begging me to let her diet.

Of course, I said no.

I didn’t force a single bite on her, but I brought every single morsel to her. She fancied a snickers, of course I got her 8 at the shop, along with cookies and cakes for her to snack on during the day when the kids are at school. She put away a creme egg too. That was why she felt so sick, all that rich food pressing against the walls of her overfed belly.

I’d love to weigh her, but she can barely get up, I don’t want to upset her even more. She has a large, dark red stretch mark in the middle of her belly and it’s sore, she rubs it while she stares at the TV with a look of discomfort on her face. I reckon she’s put on a pound or two since her last weigh in. It was the most she’s ever weighed, even more than during her 3 pregnancies, she last got on the scales at 16 stone 12 pounds. She’s only 5 foot 5 inches, with very little muscle, she’s got a round pot belly and huge breasts which fill a 42E bra snugly. Her belly mesmerizes me, she’s so full and has kept herself full for days on end, every last inch of it is painfully bloated, from her overworked stomach down to her large intestine, every inch of her digestive tract is bursting with junk food. All the pizzas and pitta breads she eats give her constipation, I don’t know for sure but I think she only empties her aforementioned colon once every couple of days.

She’s breathless from her trip to the kitchen. I’d have put the pizzas on if she’d asked but she wanted to make sure the washer and dryer were on the go, so she did it while she was up. She also got herself a Malibu and coke while she was up. Well, Pepsi. She never drinks water, never has done since she was a teenager. She must go through 2-3 liters daily. Her drinking is getting bad now, I love it, another addiction that’s helping to add to her expanding waistline.

She was only a skinny girl when we met. Only 12 stone after her 3rd baby. 4 years later she's a sight to behold. It’s taken a while to get her this size, she reached 16st 10lbs last summer just before we moved, but the stress and wasted calories of the move saw her shrink down to 15st 13lbs. I soon set about fixing that problem though, I got her hooked on one thing then another, then another. Her latest addiction is the creams ice cream parlor in town, I take her there so often she’s starting to get sick of their cookie dough. It’s ok though, there’s plenty more of the menu for her to get her chubby cheeks around.

I’ve had her cry in pain from her overindulgence, I’ve had her pass out and I’ve had her projectile vomit because of how much food was inside her, but still we have these nights like tonight where her second dinner is cooking. She holds her belly in her hands and looks sad. It’s bigger than when she was pregnant. She looks like she’s carrying and she eats like she’s baking more than one bun in the oven. 

Speaking of the oven, it beeps. I fetch in her pizzas and put them in front of her on a tray table. She tucks in greedily, her stretched stomach now ready for its next filling meal. She leans back from her clean plate and groans. She complains she can feel her heart thudding in her chest. It’s just the indeigestion I tell her, giving her a pack of Rennies. She pops two of them in her mouth and lays there while I rub her bare belly, making sure I lift her heavy boobs up off of it to better stroke where her taught stomach is bulging through her stretched skin.

She smiles at me, holding back vomit. ‘I only do this for you, you know.’ She says.

That was probably true to start with. Not anymore. Now she was doing it without my constant encouragement. Sure, she would probably be a lot thinner if I wasn’t there feeding her.... but some of this belly I was eagerly rubbing was her fault now.

I told her I love her, reminded her I love her belly and reassure her that shes not gained any weight. She doesn’t believe me, only a week ago I took her clothes shopping and she found herself only fitting into 20/22 from a plus size shop.

Tomorrow we will do this all again. And she will be just a little bit fuller and just a little bit fatter.