Tricks Follow Treats
Phil was a broken man, and I should have felt sorry for him, quaking and crying in my arms. But he had treated me so badly, that all I could think was, "Serves you right!"
I know I shouldn't have been so mean to him, but I had put up with his relentless criticism for a long time, and to see him bawling now, so subservient and growing fat, it made me happy! Finally, I was the one who was on top in this relationship.
After about 10 minutes, I pushed him gently away, and pushed the hair back out of his tear-streaked face.
"Look at me, Phil," I said. "No matter what has happened, I love you, and I always will.
He looked searchingly into my eyes and stopped crying. I let go of one of his nipples, took a generous hunk of rich chocolate cake and shoved it into his open mouth. He ate it eagerly and hungrily. His eyes begged me for more cake, so I kept fondling him and feeding him cake until it was gone. Then, I made sure he finished the pie.
"You were horrible to me, but that's in the past now," I assured him. "The future looks fantastic! You've become such an excellent fat f*ck now." I petted his head to give him comfort. "Why would I leave you when you're getting to be so good for f*cking!" I exclaimed, rubbing his tummy flab and kissing him deeply on the mouth, ooh, that mouth filled with such delicious chocolate.
"I'll keep getting better!" he exclaimed when we finished that long kiss. "I promise. Just don't leave me. I'll get fatter and fatter for you! I'll f*ck and f*ck and f*ck, just like I am supposed to do."
"You know how to be a good chubby hubby now." I complimented him, adding, "In fact, you are getting beyond chubby - and just to good old plain fat." We kissed passionately some more, and he kept kissing my face as I talked. "You're so much more handsome and more manly, such a big man," I said, fondling his bigger, fuller breasts. "Of course, you've got your feminine side as well." I surveyed his breasts thinking it might not be long before they were bigger than mine. "You are the yin and the yang, both masculine and feminine. I love how subservient you have become. A good fat f*ck-boy knows his place and what he exists for."
Phil enthusiastically agreed with a blissful smile on his chocolate covered face.
"Where's my martini?" I asked. He looked startled, then worried about pleasing me immediately. He got up instantly and rushed to get me one. I called after him, "And you should have a beer. In fact, bring the cooler, so you don't have to keep going up and down the steps."
Thanksgiving fed into Christmas, then New Year's Day when I mounted the scales myself to discover that I had been gaining weight despite my resolve to exercise more and eat less. Phil was making life too easy for me!
I didn't have to lift a finger from the time I got home until I left the next morning. If I even started to get up and get myself a drink or fix some popcorn, he would push me back in the recliner with a "Tsk, tsk, I'm supposed to take care of you, Carrie. I love to please you." And he would be off to get me anything I desired.
By Valentine's Day, I was busting out of my worksuits. I insisted that Phil keep from serving me so much, but then I would turn around and ask for something to eat or drink. I don't know why that happened, but I couldn't stop myself! His cooking was that good!
Something about his letting go and getting fat had perhaps released my appetite as well. And soon, his daily massages of my shoulders would include a belly rub, often ending in another amorous session in bed.
I had started smoking to try to keep from gaining more weight, but for some reason, the cigarettes only enhanced my appetite, and soon, I found I couldn't quit smoking -- or drinking!
Since I was being served so many martinis, I found myself becoming addicted to alcohol in a way I had never imagined possible. Soon, I was joining Phil in drinking beer after beer after beer each evening.
Valentine's Day approached, and we both anticipated it eagerly! But it was the day when I found out that this magic potion had some powerful side effects.
Phil prepared for days, baking, cooking, making sweet chocolate candies, cupid cookies, pies, even a huge heart-shaped cake. I was determined that all those calories would end up fattening him, not me!
But even after weighing myself on Valentine's Day morning, and finding that I was now up to 157 pounds, from 125 last Halloween, I could not stop Phil nor his delicious food.
At first, I accepted it. It's just one day, after all! I thought. I could not deny him the joy of serving me big slices of cake, one after another after another. By the end of the evening, I was drunk and dizzy from the chocolate, the butter and the sugar -- not to mention all the alcohol!
I tried to shoo Phil away as he tried to feed me more fried chicken and fried potatoes and gravy, but he insisted that his job was to make me happy, and he knew how much I loved his cooking.
Finally, I got a bit upset with him, telling him that he shouldn't be tempting me with so much good food.
"I love to please you," he said in a soft monotone. "I need to please you. There is nothing I would not do to please you."
With a shock, I realized that his words were an echo of my recitation to him the day her drank that potion last Halloween.
"But you are supposed to do what I say, Phil!" I said, getting very angry now. "I don't want you cooking so much food for me to eat or feeding me so much or fixing me so many drinks."
"That is not what you really want," he replied flatly. "Whenever I serve you, you eat. Everything that pleases you is right. You want to eat and drink more and more. Everyday, I love you more and more. And it pleases you. I can deny you nothing you want. There is nothing I wold not do to please you."
Again, I recalled my words last Halloween. And I realized with a shock that Phil was not the only one who had no willpower.
I looked at him in awe as he took three bites of food, then fed me one. Even though I was stuffed, I could not stop myself from opening my mouth for some delicious pie.
I had to do something to stop this!
"Really, Phil, I want you to stop! Can't you see how fat I'm getting!?"
I stood and patted my belly which was now bulging out over top of my jeans.
"I have no complaints about you because you are perfect in every way," Phil said, again repeating my own incantation from three and a half months ago. He stood up and gently pushed me back into my chair, piling food up on my plate, then getting me another large bourbon.
"But- but- but-," I tried to interrupt, but each time I opened my mouth, he filled it, all the while continuing to tell me words I knew too well.
"Every day, I am pleased and delighted by you more and more," he said, pushing cake into my mouth. "Everything that pleases you is right." He served me another drink, then another, then another. I was getting too drunk and forgetting to watch my appetites. After a while, my protestations grew quieter and quieter until I was nearly silent and accepting what was happening.
All the while, he continued his litany. My last slurred words were, "Too fat."
"Too fat?" Phil repeated. "Not at all. You are perfect in every way. I love you. I have always loved you. Everyday, I am pleased and delighted by you more and more. I am for f*cking and I always want sex. Whatevr you want is what I want. I can deny you nothing."
Somewhere along there, I passed out, while he was still feeding me. When I awakened, he had his shirt off, and his big belly and flabby chest were in full view.
"Goodness, you are getting to be such a heavyweight hotty," I slurred, sputtering some of the fried potatoes from my mouth.
"Just think how I'll look by Easter," he said, standing up and turning his body around like a fashion model, so gloriously flabby that his bits jiggled as he twirled.
In just three and a half months, my handsome husband had almost doubled his weight, going from a puny 140 pounds - lightweight for a 6-foot-tall man - to a generous, sexy 250 pounds of flabby masculinity. Well, not all masculine.
He had lost his wide shouldered look and thin waist with cut abs. His chiseled jawline was buried under a double chin. He was starting to look almost like a big fat woman - except for that wonderful hard c*ck which he always seemed to have ready for me anytime day or night.
Still, his androgynous looks were quite appealing to me. I have nothing against big soft tits and a big ass, and he had it all!
And while eating our feast, he showed no signs of slowing down. His tits - he called them "he-hooters" - had swollen up remarkably, and I wondered how he would feel if I suggested a bra. Soon, the weight might cause his back some trouble, but until he complained, I would just enjoy the view of watching them swing freely.
His waistline had grown from a thin 29 inches to more than 50 inches.
Keeping him in clothes and food had been pretty costly, but now that he was taking care of everything at home, and I didn't have the stress of dealing with a disagreeable spouse, my work was going very well.
Commissions picked up a lot, and I was actually promoted, getting a generous raise. Looking down at my bloated body, I realized that I needed to buy some new suits, though, due to my weight gain.
And how was I going to stop gaining, given Phil's new mission to "please" me. I had to think of something to undo that part of the spell.
"Oooh, someone's getting pleasingly plump," he said, reaching out and touching my belly as he fed me the last few bites. "Better stop it, mistress! I'm the fat one in this couple." His voice sounded teasing and playful, just the kind of thing to turn me on.
He struggled to lift me out of my chair and carried me upstairs to the bedroom. That night, we made the bed creak like it had never done so before.
(to be continued)