Secret Fatteners


Melanie could tell something was touching her, even in the state of half-sleep she was in. When she gradually entered a state more akin to being awake, yet with her eyes still closed, she realized it was her boyfriend’s touch. He was fondling the roll of fat around her middle. What the hell is he doing? she wondered.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she said sharply, her eyes popping open very suddenly. The shock caused Sam to jump back.

“Jeesus, you scared the crap out of me!” he hollered.

“What were you doing? Hmm?”

“Man,” Sam said, standing up and walking away. “Sorry for waking you up, but sheesh, you don’t have to give me a heart attack!”

Sam stomped off to the bathroom in a huff, leaving Melanie lying on the couch, clad only in her underwear. She watched him leave the room, wondering what he had been up to while she was asleep. Why was he feeling my flab? she asked herself. And so lovingly. She touched her little potbelly, so very soft to the touch. She had definitely gained weight in the year or so they’d been living together. She was a bit annoyed at herself about gaining weight, but she was so busy, it seemed there wasn’t anything she could do about it. At any rate, she let the incident pass, attributing it to Sam’s general weirdness or a fit of curiosity.

A few weeks later, Melanie sat down for yet another dinner that Sam had prepared for them. It was very good, as Sam was a superb cook, and by the time they’d finished, Melanie was completely stuffed.

“And now, for dessert,” Sam announced, “a coconut cream pie - home made, of course!”

He presented the pie with flourish, and cut a large slice for Melanie.

“I don’t think I can, Hon, I’m stuffed.”

“Oh, do not insult the chef! Have a little, just give it a try.”

She did as he said, and found that she could finish the pie with a little effort. She had to unbutton her pants, though.

They spent the evening lying on the couch together, watching television. Melanie got up to go to the bathroom, and while standing in front of the full-length mirror, saw a reflection of her bloated stomach.

“No wonder I’m getting fat,” she told the reflection, “look at the food Sam’s feeding me.”

She thought back to the many large, multi-course, fattening meals he’d made her. When they went out, he always ordered dessert for her, regardless. He brought her treats, and all kinds of goodies. He was always encouraging her to eat.

The more she thought about it, the more Melanie realized - Sam was trying to make her fat! He liked it! Part of her couldn’t believe it, that anyone liked this soft, gooshy flesh. It jiggled when she walked, and flowed over, or bulged out of her clothes as she outgrew them. It was unattractive.

Wasn’t it?

She examined her body in the mirror. Her breasts were a little larger, softer, and stuck out a little more. But it was her love handles, and big, soft gut that were more remarkable. Her belly ballooned out from just below her belly button, and ending in her pubic region. Her ass was bigger, too, of course, and her thighs were flabby and soft. She could make them shake in waves.

“He likes it,” she told the mirror, incredulously.

Then she thought about his sly plan to fatten her up. The sneaky little bugger. Well, he wasn’t going to get away with that - if she was going to get fat, then so was he! She went back out to the couch and sat down with Sam. She kissed him on the forehead, cuddled up to him, and began to plot.

The next day Melanie implemented her plan. First off, she wasn’t going to eat anything unless Sam ate more of it than she did. Second, she started to cook more, making sure that Sam had extra-fattening servings of whatever it was they were eating. Third, she felt like Sam needed some help to put on weight, certainly to catch up to Melanie’s ballooning waistline.

She bought a crate of weight-gain powder - she resolved to mix this into as many dishes and drinks as she possibly could think of. This would up Sam’s caloric intake by quite a bit. But Sam wasn’t a big eater, which might be a problem. To compensate, Mel purchased some over-the-counter medication to increase his appetite. She crushed these pills and added them to his food.

Sam wasn’t very athletic, but he was fairly slim. After a few weeks of “special treatment,” as Melanie called it, a bulge was forming over his belt.

“Man, I am getting fat,” Sam exclaimed while trying to zip his pants, and failing.

“No you’re not,” Melanie said. “You’re growing more handsome every day.”

“What? I’m fat, look at this,” and Sam shook a roll of flab around his middle.

“Mmmm, sexy!”

Melanie hugged him and kissed him hard. They fell backwards onto their bed, but Sam struggled away.

“Come on, I have to get to work!” He rushed out of the room, in search of bigger pants.

Melanie lay on the bed, her head propped up on one hand, and smiled.

Sam was sleeping more and more, becoming less active, Melanie noticed. As the months wore on, she stopped giving him the appetite stimulants. He didn’t need them anymore, he was eating double what she thought a normal human being would consume daily. The more he ate, the lazier he seemed to get, too. Sam was rapidly outgrowing his clothes, but he couldn’t do anything about it, other than purchase new clothes.

Melanie stepped out of the shower one morning, and stepped on the scale, out of curiosity. She hadn’t weighed herself in quite some time, although she suspected she’d put on a little weight recently. The talking scale announced to her, “One hundred and seventy three pounds.”

“Oh my, I had no idea,” she said, a little shocked. She unconsciously rubbed her fat thighs with her hands.

Just then, Sam stumbled into the washroom, yawning. He scratched his large, hanging gut with one hand and rubbed an eye with the other.

Melanie watched him with a smile: He was her work of art. His fat stomach stuck far out in front of him. It hung over his boxer shorts, and when he wasn’t wearing those, it would partially obscure the view of his privates. When he scratched it, it sent waves through the fat. Somewhat womanly breasts were perched on top, covered by a thin layer of chest hair. He had a double chin, “chipmunk cheeks” (as she liked to call them, though not to his face), and big arms. They weren’t big with muscle, though. They were almost all fat. His flabby, bouncy butt, and thick, round legs were proportionate, too. She hugged him.

“How’s my sexy sweetie this morning?” she asked.

“Hungry,” he said, and sat down on the can.

“I’ll make you a nice, light breakfast,” she said, her voice trailing behind her as she marched to the kitchen. Of course, there was no such thing as a “light” meal in Mel’s household.

After a long, heavy meal, Sam sat himself down in front of the TV. He rubbed his belly nonchalantly, still clad only in his boxer shorts.

“Hon, how’d you like to come to the mall with me?” Melanie called. She needed to pick up some clothes for herself, as well as some bigger stuff for Sam.

“Not today, babe, I’m tired. Can you bring me a bag of potato chips before you leave? Actually, better make it two.”

Mel did as he asked, and went to the store. She stopped in on some friends, went out for lunch - she didn’t get back home until dark.

“Hi honey, I’m home,” she called, as she entered the door and put her bags down in the hallway. She peeked down the hallway, and saw Sam lounging on the couch. He obviously hadn’t moved much. A pile of wrappers, bags and boxes surrounded him. He must have been snacking the whole time I was gone, Melanie thought.

And so the days continued, stretching into weeks and months. It was over two years later when Melanie stepped onto the scale. “Two hundred and seven pounds,” it said.

“Oh my,” she whispered.

Melanie shook her belly with both hands. She’d certainly filled out in the last year. She thought she really ought to exercise, but who has the time? She was spending an awful lot of time preparing food for Sam now.

She joined Sam, who was watching TV. He sat on their new couch (the old one had broken), his massive frame occupying most of it. His belly engulfed his lap, leaving only a little of his fat, puffy knees exposed. It was so large now; it hung to either side of him. His breasts were now very large, enough to warrant a bra, certainly, Melanie thought. Sam wasn’t amused when she suggested that. His fat arms and pudgy hands rested just below his breasts, on the crest of his stomach. Fully extended, his fingers wouldn’t even reach his navel, which had become a deep, dark, plush cavern. Melanie had to help him a lot now. Getting dressed was a chore, as were many other things.

“Can you pass me the remote?” he asked her.

“It’s right there in front of you,” she whined.

“Yeah, but it’s easier for you to get it.”

“Forget it, get it yourself, Mr. Lazypants.”

Sam sighed, and rolled his eyes. He started to shift a little, preparing to get up from the couch. The remote control was only perhaps three feet away, sitting on a coffee table. With considerable effort and maneuvering, he struggled to heave his massive blob-like body up from a sitting position. Melanie watched carefully, loving every second of it. Every jiggle, every grunt, it was wonderful. Eventually Sam succeeded, and plopped himself back down onto the couch, with the remote in his possession. He flicked through TV channels then set the remote down on top of his belly.

Melanie marveled at the way his butt and thighs spread out over the couch, covering the whole double seat. He looked like a pyramid, with a head resting on top. She thought how Sam’s life had changed. He was no longer concerned with fattening Mel, he was more concerned with feeding himself (you should hear how his stomach growled when he was hungry!). His life was filled with eating sleeping, and occasionally making love. Melanie didn’t miss his attempts at fattening her, she’d gained her new weight just by being around Sam. It was hard not to get fat around him, with the amount of food he ate.

Melanie never gave a thought to Sam’s increasing size, or his decreasing mobility, until one morning when he called her (as he had started to do more and more frequently) to help him out of bed.

They couldn’t budge him.

“Shit, I can’t move!” he said, almost in a whisper.

“Hold on,” Melanie said. She tried various different ways of moving him, but it was no use. He was too heavy, and his blubber was too awkward.

Melanie had to leave him there as she went to work. She hurried home as fast as she could, and found him sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You got up!” she cried.

“No, I can’t get up, I’m too heavy. I’m immobile, babe.”

He half laid, half fell onto the bed, causing ripples to flow all over his body.

Melanie frowned down at him. “That’s terrible”

“But kind of erotic, isn’t it?” he said, with a grin.

Melanie wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to look after him constantly, and she didn’t want him to have to be looked after. They made love, though, and that took a lot of her fear away.

Things had to change, she decided, and put Sam on a strict diet and exercise plan. It was limited, of course, and to Sam a diet was probably what an elephant would eat, but it had to be done. Melanie was not going to let him down; she wanted both of them to be happy.

After several months of weight training and a better (but not much smaller) meal plan, Sam could move around again. He kept up on the weight lifting, and within a year was stronger than he’d ever been. He was a little smaller, too.

Eventually, Sam and Melanie got married. Sam got his weight down to a hefty 611 pounds (a lot of muscle with his mountain of fat). Melanie topped off at 250, and they were both very pleased. They were also very much in love.