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Thats pretty fucked up yo

>>933
I agree. I personally don't like stories like that.

I remember reading something like that, but yeah, it's pretty messed up and I'm not too inclined to look for it again.

I think you mean the wicked stepfather:
http://www.foreverchanging.org/bb/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=31

A rather brutal story, but good if you need a change of pace, not to mention that most feeder stories would realistically be more akin to this.

>>941
It's the darker form of feeder-fiction, which I don't enjoy, but I can't help but like this one for some reason.

I'm part way through this and I'm adoring the taboo! Can anyone recommend me anything else that's quite dark and a little fucked up?

Story of my life.

>>977
pics or it didn't happen

Wow... just read this. I got most of the way through the story, thinking "this isn't THAT bad at all;" then I reached the end. I feel like I need a shower - and a new soul.

(still came buckets, though; hence the need for a new soul...)

Yeah, that's hella not-right.

There's a similar story, that's less badwrong. I don't remember the title, but the gist is some girl's mom wants her to stay around and help take care of her kids. So the mom fattens her daughter up so she doesn't' go out and meet people or something.

It has a happier ending though, since she does end up finding a dude who likes her. And its less creepy and dark.

>>1047
Sounds like 75% of MattL's stories.

>>941
The link to the story just went down.
Does anyone have this story saved?

>>1850
I've got it saved.

How should I upload it? Its fucking long so I don't want to copy and paste into the blueboard.

>>1852
bang it into mega upload or similar sight of oyur choice. it aint that hard

>>1858
Megaupload's long dead, man.

Maybe Pastebin? It's good for text stuff.

>>1852

Or you can try Mediafire.

first time poster to the rescue!
http://www.literotica.com/s/the-wicked-stepfather

Yeah, wrong story.

>>1867

Yeah, sorry dog. The story we're looking for is about this girl being drugged with sleeping pills that make her super lazy and cause her brain to deteriorate or something, and ends with her completely immobile. The stepfather rapes her until she has a heart attack, then leaves her body in a cabin in the woods.

At least that's how I remember it.

Here you guys go. I believe this is an adaption of an older story, but it's still the same thing you wanted.
http://www.curvage.org/forum/index.php?topic=5436.0

Still a different story, amazingly enough.

Fuck it.


The Wicked Stepfather: Revisited (wg)



Steve watched as his new stepdaughter danced at his wedding. She was mesmerizing. As he watched her, she shot him a quick smile from across the room. Steve returned it, before shyly looking away. He knew what he was feeling wasn‘t right; he had just married her mother after all, but she was so beautiful dancing there: Sara had him captivated.

***

Sara was only 16 years-old, but was energetic and strong for her age. She had to be: She was captain of both her High School cheerleading and soccer teams. In addition to her athletic pursuits, she was also a Dean’s List honor student. She had a lot going for her.

What also helped make Sara so popular was her personality. She was one of the sweetest girls in high school and had friends to spare. However, it was her body that caused most warm-blooded men to stare with carnal lust.

Her arms were smooth and strong, with a good amount of muscle from all the toning she had done over the last three years. They were quick to action and had a strength that belied her size. Her face was the prettiest ever known, with full, red lips, high cheekbones and golden blond hair that streamed down to the middle of her back. Her chest was a perfect 32 B-cup: Small, but with a perkiness that made them round and perfect to the sight. Her abdomen was flat as any washboard, and had taut muscles lining the entire surface. Her rear was perfect in symmetry. Firm and round, it made its small presence known whenever she would wear her size 5 jeans. And her thighs, oh those beautiful thighs, they were strong and sleek with nary a blemish to be found.

She was what the world would call "a one-of-a-kind knock-out." Sara had always taken care of her body, not a fanatic, not a health nut, or exercise freak, but she was conditioned and kept her diet in proportion.

This was the Sara that everyone knew and loved. Since Sara’s 15th Birthday one year ago, however, she had been having thoughts that were new and unique to her. They scared her. You see, Sara was having the first desires of a new-born feedee. Totally out of her control, she would want to stuff her little body until she couldn’t take another bite, as all those calories would slowly turn her sleek body to soft flab. She tried with all her might to bury these thoughts. They were not normal, but the wetness that would develop between her thighs was undeniable. Initially, she fought it with her willpower and won.

***

Now, at 16 and 1 month, her life was changing for the better it seemed. Her mother was marrying Steve, a man she had been dating for the last few years. He was 6 feet tall, handsome and wealthy--not incredibly--but he could ease some of the financial strain she and her mother suffered. The local chain of groceries he owned ensured that they would always have food on the table.

Sara had known her new stepfather since she was 12 and he had always treated her with love and care. Her real father had left when she was three and Sara hoped Steve could help fill the void.

What a day the wedding was! Sara got drunk for the first time in her life and made quite a scene: stumbling, dancing and laughing. She had a great time.

After the wedding was over, she sat alone with her new step-dad. She was getting emotional as the alcohol was taking full-effect. She was even calling him “dad,” though she had always called him Steve previously. Sara went on and on about how happy she was that he was now officially part of her life, and that she now had a real father to talk to and to do things with--things she had missed out on. She felt she could confide in him. All her guards were down; all her willpower was swept aside. They talked about everything that night.

Finally, Sara asked the question she had been building up to. "Dad, what do you think about people who deliberately want to gain-weight?”

He looked at her stunned. "Sara" he asked, "Why would you ask such a question?"

Sara blushed, and let her beans spill. Inside she could not believe she was letting this out, but on the other hand it felt so good. She told him about her weird fantasies of gaining-weight and letting herself turn into the largest amount of flab gathered anywhere on the planet. God, she was even talking immobility.

Steve had no idea what to say to her, for he was holding back the hardest erection he had ever felt in his life. It was actually painful for him. Could it be that someone shared his desire? Steve was a fat admirer and a feeder, but his own fantasies of fattening a woman beyond imagination were buried long ago. He was now a 36 year-old man that had just married Sara's 37 year-old Mother.

He was lost in his own imagination when Sara's mother showed up.

“Oh, um, Hi honey,” Steve said, getting up to kiss his bride on the cheek. “Sara and I were just talking about how she feels having a father in the house now.”

Sara’’s mother smiled as Steve gave Sara a wink.

***

The next day, Sara awoke with the worst headache of her life.

"Ohhhhh, this is horrible!" she thought. "I can’t even move it hurts so much." Just then, Steve knocked on the door.

"Sara, are you up honey?" he called.

"Yes. Barely…" she called through the closed door.

He walked in and saw her lying on the bed. The covers were not entirely covering her body and he could see that she was wearing panties and nothing else. Fighting his overpowering desire to look, he quickly turned away. Sara noticed the abrupt turn of his head and pulled the covers over her top.

At that moment, she felt she could trust him with anything. Here she was nearly naked and he looked away. He was a true gentleman.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Oh, not good at all Steve," she replied, stretching her arms above her head as she writhed on the bed--briefly exposing her left breast.

"Well, it was quite a night wasn’t it? All that dancing and laughing…”” Steve paused. “I felt really close to you last night. Thank you for trusting me."

Sara panicked. What had she said? "Ummm, about what Steve? I guess I was a little drunk last night."

“You mean, you don’t you remember?" he said.

He explained to her what she said to him, but he purposefully left out the part about her fantasies. He figured he could do more without her knowledge. Even though she didn’’t remember, he had no intention of ever forgetting.

***

Days turned into weeks since the marriage. School let out and Sara came home for summer vacation, ending her sophomore year in High School. That meant lazy days laying out by the pool and taking it easy. Summer was a great time.

Sara's mom went to visit her parents for the months of June and July. Steve and Sara were both invited, but Steve really couldn't leave work. Sara just didn’t want to go period. Sitting in the middle of Nebraska was not how she wanted to spend her 16th summer.

This was also the year she would receive her driver’s license. Steve had made her a deal that he would help her buy a car if she promised to help him around the house. However, Steve’s idea of helping was much different then what Sara had in mind…

After Sara's mom left, Steve broke down the chores of the house for her. He made it easy. Sara had to do nothing. She could do whatever she wanted, and that sure sounded good to her. This was the time for Steve to start his long-range plans. He knew it would take years to complete, but he could get the ball rolling now.

The first week of vacation, Steve asked Sara what her favorite snacks were. She confided that she loved--absolutely loved--chocolate ice-cream malts, but only had them on rare occasions.

“Hmmm,” he thought. “There must be a way to exploit that.””

Steve decided to visit Larry, a pharmacist friend that he knew to have a bit of a dark streak. After beating around the bush, he finally got up the nerve and talked to him about what he wanted to do with his little Sara. To his surprise, Larry loved the idea and told him to come back tomorrow.

Steve got to the pharmacy early the next morning and his friend let him in the back door.

"This is your answer Steve,” Larry said, holding up a small medicine bottle. ““This is your wonder pill."

Steve’’s hands were shaking as he took the bottle from his friend.

“It’s called Amaplatix,” Larry explained. “It’s used to help Anorexia patients increase their appetite, but it has a wonderful side-effect that will help you as well.”

“What’s that?” Steve said eagerly, his mind racing with anticipation.

“It makes the patient feel drowsy and fatigued,” Larry continued, ““so it really shouldn’t be prescribed for more then two weeks at a time.” Larry hesitated, and then gave his friend a knowing wink...

“HOWEVER, I think you’ve got a special case on your hands.”

Steve had a wide grin on his face as he left Larry’s drugstore. He knew his fantasies were about to come true.

***

The very next day, Steve surprised Sara with a large chocolate ice-cream malt--complete with four Amaplatix pills stirred in. Steve just smiled as Sara gulped down the tall glass. Each day that week, Steve surprised her with another one of his special malts. He thought his goose was cooked when Sara initially refused the fourth one.

“I really shouldn’t,” she said, as she pressed her hands against her svelte waist. Her moment’s hesitation seemed like an eternity to Steve.

“Oh, what the heck,” Sara said smiling; taking the frothy glass from Steve’s outstretched hand. “It IS my summer vacation after all.”

Towards the end of the week, Steve noticed Sara’s activities were changing a little. She started sleeping until 11 a.m. everyday and would go to bed at 9 p.m. He also noticed her snacking a little more then usual.

“Perfect,” Steve thought, as he watched Sara finish a large malt right before falling asleep on the sofa. “Just perfect.”

As the next week passed, Steve kept up the same dosage and noticed Sara was becoming even less active. Now, instead of going out with her friends, she started turning them down and didn’t feel much like leaving the house. She even started taking afternoon naps.

This is when Steve decided to get REALLY bold. He kept making Sara her favorite milkshakes, but started to add 5 well-rounded spoonfuls of weight-gainer 2000, as well as pure buttermilk to the mix. The total calories per drink were over 2400 per 12 oz. glass.

She loved the taste. Oh, it was heaven the taste. He started making her as many as three a day and she happily drank them.

***

Two weeks later, it was June 28th and boy was it hot. It was well over 100 degrees and the damn air conditioner was broken. Sweat was dripping off of Steve’s forehead when he heard Sara just waking up and coming down the stairs. It was a sight he would never forget…

She was wearing nothing but her tank-top and panties and she didn’t care. It was just too hot. As she walked down the stairs, Steve couldn’t help staring. In just three weeks Sara was changing. She was still thin, but he could easily see 15 new pounds on her. Her arms had an added softness to them from inactivity and her breasts seemed a bit fuller. His eyes went down to her belly: her rock hard, oh wait, her flat but softening stomach. What happened there? No longer could he see the muscles in her belly. Flat yes, muscular no. Her thighs also showed the slightest hint of softening.

He could not believe what he saw. Sara's body had actually gained 15 lbs in only three weeks, but he knew inside this pace could not keep up. Unfortunately, that seemed to be coming true the next week. Sara's body seemed to fight back. Her energy increased and she started being more active again. She actually lost 5 pounds--much to Steve’s consternation--and things might have kept up on this decline, except for one factor: Sara was a true feedee. Even if she didn’t know it, what was in-between her legs sure did.

Before she could lose the remaining 10 pounds, she went to the mall with her friends. While they stood in line at the food court, one of them mentioned that it looked like Sara had gained a few pounds and poked her stomach teasingly. Sara immediately blushed. She felt a little ashamed, but the wetness that showered the inside of her sent her spiraling for a loop. She felt flushed and light-headed. Sara played it off to her friends that she wasn’t feeling well and they drove her home.

When she got to her room, she stripped naked and looked at her body. She knew she had gained a few pounds, but she didn’t know it showed. She had never felt so much sexual pleasure as she had in that moment. All at once, her deeply buried fantasies came flooding back.

Fortunately, Steve wasn’t home and she made her way down to the kitchen still naked. As she crept down the stairs listening for Steve, she could feel her thighs jiggling gently with each step. Mad with ecstasy, Sara threw open the cupboard and immediately ate four Twinkies and a big glass of milk. As she swallowed bite after bite, Sara rubbed her bloated stomach thinking to herself how all that junk-food was going to make her huge. This made her ballistic. She was so aroused that she couldn’t stop eating. Without thinking, she finished the gallon of milk and a box of chocolate chip cookies that had been conveniently placed next to the refrigerator.

Still in a haze, Sara grabbed the remaining junk-food from the kitchen and struggled upstairs. As she watched herself in the mirror, Sara slowly devoured every bite--her free hand gently alternating between massaging her bloating belly and the throbbing wetness between her legs.

After she had fully pleasured herself, she fell back onto her bed and into a deep, hypnotic sleep. It was during this time that Steve came home and found the kitchen a mess with wrappers, cookie crumbs and empty containers. He smiled and slowly crept upstairs. Opening Sara’s door, he found her sprawled out sleeping on her bed--crumbs and candy wrappers stuck to her naked body.

“Please let her will power diminish,” he thought as he closed the door, leaving Sara to sleep in ecstasy.

The next day brought a renewed resurgence from Steve to try and help Sara fulfill her fantasy and his. Breakfast was served with bacon, eggs, sausages and chocolate buttermilk with weight-gainer and 5 Amaplatix pills mixed in. During breakfast, Steve mentioned that he was going to the mall and wanted to know if Sara needed any new clothes, knowing that many of her outfits were growing increasingly snug. This was bait for his experiment. He wanted to find out which was stronger: Sara’s willpower or her sexual fantasy.

“Thanks Steve,” She said between bites of sausage. “Well, maybe I could use a new pair of jeans."

“Oh,” Steve said, “Is that because you’ve put on a little weight?”

Sara immediately felt the resurgence of the wetness and tingling between her thighs. She tried to will it down, but with the breakfast she was eating and Steve’s scrutinizing looks, she couldn't and her face flushed. Steve knew he had found her weakness. Sara was embarrassed about gaining weight. She wanted to stay thin, or so thought the head on top of her shoulders, but having someone else tell her that she was putting on weight broke down her willpower. It was one thing to imagine herself fat, but quite another to be told that she was actually GETTING fat.

Steve smiled at his red-faced beauty. He knew this was how he could keep her from fighting.

The next week, Steve upped her pill intake to six a day, while he increased her milkshakes to four a day. That kept Sara very tired and sedated. This pace kept up for three weeks straight. By the time he ran out of pills, Sara's body had taken the damage he’d wanted it to. Sara weighed in at 138, a full 26 pound gain, but more importantly Sara's muscles were weakening and that was what he wanted. He wanted Sara to tire easily so she would do less and less.

The day before Sara's mother came home, he got another full-view of Sara walking in the house with just her bikini on. Steve tried not to stare, but he just had to admire his handiwork.

Sara's arms had softened considerably. Where once firm muscle was, there now was a definite jiggle on the underside and a roundness that spoke of soft flab. Her chest was still a B-cup, but was beginning to overflow her too-tight top. Steve wondered if, free from their constraints, her perky tits might sag toward the ground ever so slightly. Then his eyes went southward toward her belly. What a sight! He loved what he saw there. Her stomach had softened--he knew that--but this time her belly wasn’t flat anymore. It now had a small fold growing right in the middle of it that jiggled whenever she moved. As he looked even further south, he noticed her thighs--her sleek, toned thighs--had also changed. Fleshy softness now covered each one, as a hint of cellulite crept ever so slightly across the very backs of them.

Steve was happy with her summer’s progress, but he was not finished, not by a long shot. She was young and had so much potential.

***

Sara's mother came home and made a small mention to Sara about her weight. Sara blushed, but was learning to control her sexual sensations. Fortunately, her mom didn’’t bring it up again.

The next school year brought Sara a major change in her lifestyle. The first week of school, cheerleading and soccer practice started up again. She got a few stares from her fellow cheerleaders as she trotted out in her too-tight uniform, but she tried to ignore them. Then practice started: jump, kick, jump, jump, arms, legs. Ten minutes of this and Sara was ready to pass out. She felt tightness in her chest. Her breath was gone and she had to sit down. The rest of the girls giggled amongst themselves and continued the routine, while Sara sat huffing and puffing. After practice, the coach visited Sara in the locker room…

“My God girl,” the coach said, grabbing Sara’s fleshy arm. ““What have you done to yourself?”

“Uh…” Sara fumbled for her words. She almost fainted from the sudden rush of hormones that overwhelmed her.

“You look like a tub of lard now,” the coach continued, shaking her. ““Girl, you need to get your act together. I don’t know what you did over the summer, but if you don’t get in shape soon you’re off the squad!”

Sara continued to swoon. Her face flushed and her panties moistened, but her coach’s threats also stirred anger in her. Recovering, Sara straightened up and shook herself free from her coach’s grasp. Sara’s life was at a crossroads and she didn’t even know it.

“Y’know what Coach?” Sara said. “Take your pom-poms and shove ‘em!” With that, she grabbed up her things and stormed from the gym.

She decided not to even show up to soccer practice. Instead, she went to get some dinner at the local McDonalds. She rarely allowed herself to eat such greasy fare, but ravenous from the day’s events, she wolfed down a Big Mac and fries and went home.

September turned into October, and Sara's activities dwindled even more as autumn took over. As the cool days turned colder, Sara started staying home a lot. She wasn’’t eating much more, but was very inactive for her age. Steve encouraged her sedentary lifestyle by renting her lots of movies and buying her a steady supply of romance novels.

He was also eager to help stimulate Sara's appetite. Since he couldn’t give her pills anymore with the chance of her mother finding out, Steve instead started leaving goodies all around the house. As Sara lounged lazily, she always seemed to find them.

Fall turned into winter and Sara was becoming a hermit. She was blowing off her friends left and right, never wanting to go out. Her weight had climbed to 152 pounds and she was wearing size 11 jeans up from her former size 5.

As winter turned into spring, Sara was no doubt plump at this point. Her weight had climbed to 168, but more than that, her strength was waning badly. Her arms were no longer able to make a muscle; the best she could muster was a soft mound in the middle of her bicep. Her B-cup breasts had turned into C-cups, with veins starting to show from the strain of the weight-gain. No longer perky, they had started a definite turn toward sagginess. Her belly had grown a twin fold on it and she could no longer tighten it, or suck it in all the way. Where once she was able to do 100 sit-ups without sweating, she could now barely manage 6. Her firm ass was now gone, replaced by two globs of softness that jiggled with every step. Both cheeks showed signs that cellulite was moving in, as if on a mission to sag them down to meet her thighs. Even her thighs--her once mighty thighs--had gone to seed. Previously toned, tanned and muscular, Sara's thighs now resembled two piles of pale Jell-O. They jiggled and rubbed together whenever she walked.

Over the course of the cold winter, she was able to hide most of this from view. She looked bigger, yes, but not so soft. As spring’s arrival ushered in warmer weather, Sara kept wearing winter clothes as long as possible. When the temperature hit 80 degrees, however, she finally had to give them up. She was not prepared for the comments from her classmates that followed.

“How could you do this to yourself?” said one girl.

“You have REALLY let yourself go,” said another.

“My God Sara, how are you going to go to the Junior Prom looking like THAT?”” said an ex-teammate from cheerleading.

“Who would take her?” another answered with a giggle.

This would have made most girls cry, but Sara was different. As she stood there, her hormones surged again. The more her friends made fun of her--the more they told her she looked fat--the hotter and wetter she was getting. She knew she looked fat, but them telling her only turned her on more and more. She was building to orgasm right there. Hearing that she was getting too fat to even find a date for the prom made her hormones reach new levels.

After class, Sara hurried home from school. She had to get out of there before her panties exploded with her own wetness. Her own worst enemy was between her legs. It was starting to control her.

***

Sara avoided her friends the rest of the school year and started to become a loner. Friends stopped calling and guys were no longer taking interest. That was just what Steve wanted. He kept encouraging her healthy appetite, but stayed in the background as much as possible.

Spring turned Sara into a 17 year-old women. As the season ended, so did her junior year. She was happy about that. What made her even happier was that her mom was going to see her parents again for the summer; she needed a break from her mom’s critical comments about her falling grades and expanding figure.

However, no one was happier than Steve. He knew Sara was a much different girl this summer than last. In addition to being 60 pounds heavier, she no longer had any friends to take her out and keep her active. She had told most of them off and hadn’’t been out of the house with anyone other than her mom or Steve for months. She didn’t even want to take her driver’s test that she had been putting off.

Steve knew her metabolism was probably less than half what it used to be, and the day after her mother left he set about exploiting this. Steve once again asked his pharmacist friend if he could have a supply of pills. By the next day, he had enough pills to keep Sara sleepy and hungry for the entire summer. He bought enough weight-gain powder to feed 12 body-builders for 3 months, but Steve was only building one body...and not with muscle.

He also took a leave of absence from his grocery stores in order to better monitor Sara. Every evening, the store manager would drop by with invoices to sign and checks to write, but more important than that--at least to Steve--was what else he brought with him. Each day, Steve would have him load up the leftover bakery items from the day, as well as other miscellaneous junk-food and groceries, and deliver them when he came. Donuts, pastries, buttermilk, bacon, ice-cream and chocolate were his most requested items, as they were Sara’s favorites.

By June 1st, Sara’s weight had climbed to 174 pounds and Steve was going to make sure she never saw that skinny number again. A typical summer’s breakfast consisted of 5 pancakes, 8 strips of bacon, 8 sausage links, 6 scrambled eggs, 4 English muffins and 2 glasses of buttermilk. Each morning, Steve would sit in awe as Sara slowly but surely ate everything. Even more than her voracious appetite, however, Steve loved that she rarely wore more than a tank top and shorts at the table. As she would eat, her belly would slowly protrude and eventually settle on the very tops of her thighs. After a few weeks, her stomach sat on her thighs to begin the meal--bright-red stretch marks cutting across her pasty-white skin.

After breakfast, Sara would usually go to the couch to lie down and fall asleep in front of the television. Steve would wake her up around lunchtime. Lunch consisted of multiple cheeseburgers served with fries and macaroni and cheese. Of course, Steve would have her wash everything down with one of his famous milkshakes: complete with Amaplitix pills and four scoops of weight-gain powder.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Sara asked one day during lunch. ““I mean…” Sara swallowed hard, barely pausing between bites. “You’re really pampering me this summer. Especially with you cooking so much and all.”

The question flustered Steve. He had an erection comparable to the night he first heard of Sara’s private fantasies. He wanted to tell her that he wanted her fat, that he was going to make her a giant immobile tub of lard.

“Not yet,” he thought, regaining his composure.

“Well…” Steve chose his words carefully. “It’s just that you seem to enjoy my cooking and I like making you happy.”

Sara paused for a moment and smiled at him, before scarfing down a handful of fries.

***

The first week of July, Steve was once again able to fully appreciate the results of his handiwork. It was miserably hot and the air conditioning was once again on the fritz. Despite the unbearable heat, Steve was in total bliss when he saw Sara walking down the stairs wearing only a bra and panties. It was just too hot to wear anything else and she was never embarrassed in front of Steve.

He watched her body jiggle and shake as she slowly descended the stairs. At 207 pounds, Sara was officially fat. He saw no trace of muscle in her arms. Instead, he saw two masses of jiggling softness that shook wildly from the total lack of use. Her breasts were still C-cups, but now sagged completely, never to regain their perkiness. Her belly had grown beautifully. Those two rolls had grown and sagged considerably, leaving no traces of the muscles that once lined her stomach’s surface. Sara’s once gravity-defying ass had been invaded by cellulite, transforming her flawless cheeks into two globs of pure, soft fat. They had taken on a cottage cheese look and sagged down to meet her plumpening thighs, which also sagged and jiggled from the layers of fat that now completely covered them. Her legs rubbed together as she walked and Steve could see that her inner-thighs were red and irritated from the friction. For the first time, he could even tell that her calves had grown and had lost a considerable amount of tone and strength.

The walk down the stairs seemed to wind Sarah and she quickly waddled over and sat down at the breakfast table, sweat rolling down her chubby cheeks. Steve couldn’t contain himself: Watching this once active young teenager struggling down the stairs drove him wild. If she had not been so tired she might have noticed his hard on, but that sight escaped her.

Throughout the summer, Steve kept up his daily use of the pills, giving Sara as many as 8 per day. This kept her sleepy and hungry, while Steve always made sure she had as much food as she wanted. Sara knew she was getting fat, but lacked the energy to do something about it. It was just too much effort to do anything besides sleep, eat and watch television.

By mid-summer, Steve ran out of pills and Larry informed him that he could get no more. Apparently, it was recalled for breaking down muscle fibers and causing atrophy if taken in excess amounts. Although Sara’s muscles might have taken some permanent damage, his friend assured him that Sara’s overall health should be fine.

“No wonder she is getting so weak and tired so fast,” Steve mused, a grin slowly spreading across his face. He knew it had been more than the extra pounds that had been slowing her down. “Now,” Steve thought, “I just have to find a way to keep her eating.”

Fortunately for Steve, he now knew Sara’s weaknesses and how to exploit them.

***

Three days after the last pill, the appetite stimulants had worn off and Sara began to regain some of her energy. Now that she was free of the drug-induced malaise, she also was able to gain some perspective on what had happened to her over the last few months.

“I’ve gotten fat!” Sara exclaimed, as she pinched the fleshy folds that now surrounded her waist.

Looking in her bedroom mirror, she noticed that even her Goddess-like face was deteriorating from the strains of her excessive gormandizing. Pale from the lack of sunlight, it was covered in an oily sheen. Blemishes had erupted across her chubby cheeks and forehead. Even her luxurious hair had become greasy and lifeless.

“Fat and ugly,” she frowned, as a double-chin gently protruded beneath the disgusted expression on her softening face.

As Sara set about cleaning up her appearance, she suddenly caught a whiff of the delightful aroma of fresh-baked apple pie wafting up from the kitchen. Giving a Pavlovian response, her stomach let out an audible rumble.

“No!” Sara thought, as she clutched her chubby tummy. “Not this time.”

Filled with a determination she hadn’t felt for months, Sara bounded down the stairs to the kitchen at a speed she hadn’t reached in 50 pounds. Her chest felt tight and she was out of breath, but she didn’t care. She had to do this.

“Steve,” Sara gasped, trying to catch her breath. “I’m going on a diet…Starting immediately.”

Steve slowly turned around to face her with a big smile. He was holding the hot apple-pie in his hands. It looked fantastic!

“Steve, I’m serious,” she insisted, hoping her stomach wouldn’t betray her resolve.

Steve’s smile disappeared. “Ok Sara,” he said, placing the pie back on the stove. “Let me have a look at you.”

Sara could feel her face turning red as Steve studied her intently. She tried to stand firm, but Steve’s scrutinizing glares were making it difficult.

“My Sara, you have gotten a bit tubby haven’’t you?”

Her face fully-flushed, Sara tried to will away her feelings, but Steve’s words sent her hormone production into overdrive.

“Let me feel your arms Sara,” Steve said, squeezing them gently. “Wow! I can tell you haven’t been working out.”

There was a tingling between Sara’s legs like she’d never felt before. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“Please stop,” she begged. Steve didn’t.

“Whoa! Look at this!” Steve said, gently poking her swollen belly. “I can pinch an inch!”

Wetness exploded through her panties as her stomach betrayed her with a loud gurgle.

“Somebody must be hungry!” Steve exclaimed in a sing-song voice.

Steve lead her to the dinning room table and gently sat her down before returning with the apple pie. Cutting a bite for her, Steve slowly moved it towards Sara’s trembling lips. Her eyes still closed, Sara hesitated a second before taking the warm pie into her mouth.

Within a half-hour the pie was finished and Sara stumbled up to her room and collapsed into bed. From the kitchen, Steve could hear pleasurable moans emanating from behind her bedroom door. He knew what she was doing and he let her do it. Whistling softly, he went to work washing the empty pan.

Moments after Sara had just given herself the most pleasurable orgasm of her life, tears were streaming down her cheeks. “What have I done to myself?” she thought. She was afraid of what was happening to her, but just thinking about how she had ruined her perfect body made her once again tremble with excitement. All these thoughts toiling around in her head left her exhausted and she quickly dozed off to sleep.

Over the next few weeks, Sara tried to cut-back her food intake, but Steve kept up his sly remarks about her body and weight-gain. This drove her crazy. Sara was of two minds: one adhered to society’s standard equating thin with beauty, the other was more primal; it wanted fat: soft, jiggling, repulsive fat. Steve was out to ensure the latter mindset would win.

***

The first week in August brought horrible news. Sara’s mother called and said that her father was extremely ill and that she would have to stay with them until at least the end of the year. Sara was very saddened; she loved her grandfather very much, but Steve had mixed-emotions. He was sad for his wife, but he couldn’’t help thinking of how perfect the situation was. He could keep up Sara's weight-gain for another 6 months. Just thinking about it caused blood to course through his sex organ and raise it to new heights.

For the rest of the summer, he did his best to keep Sara from moving around a lot. He wanted her to become so lazy that her muscles would atrophy from a lack of use. Depressed by her expanding figure and the illness of her grandfather, Sara continued to eat ever-growing portions of whatever Steve would put in front of her. He loved watching her eat late into the night and, not having the desire to climb the stairs, fall asleep right on the couch.

***

By the end of August, Sara's weight was making leaps and bounds. The scale, which Sara’’s expanding belly now hid from view, read a remarkable 236. She was in bad need of new clothes. Steve knew this, but he waited until the week before school--when he knew the mall would be full of her classmates--to invite her on a shopping spree.

The first store they hit was JC Penny. Sara went over to the jean section and picked up a pair of size 14 jeans thinking they would fit nicely. Boy was she wrong. She began to struggle with them once they were halfway up her thighs, but they stopped dead in their tracks once they got to her ass. At 236 pounds, her entire body had inflated, but it was obvious her ass had taken more than its fair share of the new poundage. It had become an obstacle than no size 14 jeans could overcome.

She slyly went back to the rack and grabbed a size 18. Although she was able to force them up over her shelf-like rear, she struggled once they got to her waist.

“Oh god, this is horrible," she thought, struggling with the zipper. "I can’’t even button these."

Finally, she settled on a size 22 which, although still snug, allowed her some breathing room. As she modeled the jeans in the mirror, she became horrified. Was that really her tiny size 5 body buried under all that fat? She could hardly believe it. After examining herself for a long time, she jumped up a little, causing her entire body to jiggle and shake. A violent surge of hormones nearly overtook her. It was all she could do to keep from pleasuring herself right there in the JC Penny’s changing room.

Sweating profusely and her heart pounding, Sara quickly grabbed some size 24s off the rack and handed them to Steve. Embarrassed, she averted her eyes from making contact with his. Steve simply smiled and went to pay.

The next stop was Lane Byrant for some new dresses for school. Unfortunately for Sara, it was clear on the other side of the mall. A year ago, her athletic body would’’ve traversed the distance in a couple of minutes; however, it was now in no condition for such a long walk. After 150 feet, she started huffing and her face turned beet-red. Steve loved it. Here was a girl that led her soccer team to the state championships just over a year ago, gasping for breath after a leisurely stroll.

Sara collapsed on a bench at the halfway mark. As Steve watched her huff and puff, his member stiffened and throbbed, as if pointing directions to his weary companion.

“Oh my…" she said, struggling to speak between breaths. "I have to rest a minute Steve. I haven’t done this much walking in months.”

Not content in watching this formerly athletic girl struggle to walk, he decided to add insult to injury. Steve noticed the bench was parked directly in front of a Baskin Robins. As Sara recovered, he walked over and bought her a triple scoop cone with hot fudge and sprinkles.

“Here," he said, handing her the gigantic cone. "You looked hot and I thought this might help cool you down.”

“Thank you Steve,” Sara said smiling, her chubby cheeks sporting new dimples. “I’m dying here I’m so hot.”

Thirty minutes and three scoops of ice-cream later, Sara was ready for the second leg of their journey. Steve kept the pace very slow so she didn’t tire as fast. Finally, they made it to the store and Sara went to look for some new bras to contain her now 44 D-cup breasts. As she looked through the selection, she heard a familiar voice come from behind.

"Sara!?””

Sara spun around to greet the voice. It was Karen, a former friend that had taken over her spot as Head Cheerleader.

“Oh my god, it is you!” Karen gasped, her mouth wide open. “What the hell has happened to you? I mean, you’ve gotten so fat.”

Steve stood a few feet away and watched the proceedings. His pants were dampening from his own leakage.

“Oh, um…Hi Karen,” Sara stuttered. “Um, well, yeah, I guess I gained a little weight."

"A little?” Karen continued, looking Sara up and down. “You could use your own zip code. Dear God, you used to be the hottest girl in school.”

The more Karen railed on her--about how she used to be a beautiful cheerleader and soccer star--the hornier Sara was getting. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the store staring at her flabby body. Her own eyes welled with tears as Karen continued to berate her, but her libido was once again betraying her emotions. Panties soaked, Sara could feel her knees buckling. She didn’t know how she was going to get out of this one.

Steve finally shook off his own arousal and came to Sara’s rescue.

“Excuse me Miss,” Steve interrupted, taking Sara by the hand. “We are in a bit of a rush and it takes Sara a little longer these days in her current…Condition.”

With that, Steve led her out of the store. Karen snickered audibly as she watched Sara waddle away.

Sara just stood outside the shop for a moment, stunned about what just happened to her. “We’d better go,” Steve said, snapping her from her daze. He led her to bench near the exit and volunteered to bring the car around to meet her.

“Thank you Steve,” Sara said smiling, a smudge of chocolate from the ice-cream cone still on her chin. “What would I do without you?”

Steve knew she would never find out.

As Sara waited for Steve to pull his car around, she noticed another classmate enter the mall; this time it was an ex-boyfriend. Jason Taylor was the resident “man on campus” at their High School: Student Body President, Football Captain and Homecoming King. They had dated briefly their sophomore year, but Sara had dumped him for Pete Flemming, a senior at the time.

She immediately averted her eyes and lowered her head. Jason glanced at her briefly and started to walk past, before doing a double-take. Sara kept her head down, hoping she wouldn’t be recognized.

“Sara? Sara, is that you?” Jason questioned, stopping in the middle of the crowded aisle. Sara raised her head and her eyes met his. “Jesus, it IS you!” he exclaimed, cautiously moving towards her as if she was radioactive.

Sara managed a meek, “Hi Jason,” before looking back towards the door. ““Please hurry Steve,” Sara thought, closing her eyes in hopes that Jason would be gone once she reopened them.

“Holy Cow, I heard you had porked-up, but this is ridiculous!” Jason’’s eyes scoured Sara as he inched towards her, still in disbelief. Several passersby glanced at Sara and chuckled at Jason’s comment. Sara just sat there with her eyes shut.

“Thank you for letting me off the hook,” Jason continued. “Could you imagine me going out with you now? I’d be a laughing stock!”” He was almost on top of her now. Tears were welling in Sara’s eyes as she silently took the abuse.

“Do you mind if I ask you how much you eat?” Jason bullied. “I don’t mean to be rude, but…” Jason’s words faded as Sara was overwhelmed by emotions: shame, anger and sexual arousal all washed over her in equal parts. Springing to her feet, Sara ran for the exit as tears exploded down her cheeks. After a few feet, however, her pace was reduced to a plodding gait.

“Look everyone, a walking whale!” Jason shouted after her. “Thar she blows!”

The snickers from the crowd echoed in Sara’s ears as she ran through the mall doors.

On the ride home, Sara choked back tears as she explained to Steve what had happened. Steve’s feigned indignation could barely mask his enthusiasm.

“Perfect,” he thought. “This experience should keep Sara in the house for the next few months at least.”

The events at the mall stressed Sara about returning to school for her senior year. Anticipating this, Steve was right there with the perfect answer.

“Why don’t we finish your schooling at home?” Steve said one morning over breakfast. “I’ll hire a home tutor for you to finish your senior year.”

“Thank goodness,” Sara said, looking up from her plate. “That way I won’t have to deal with all those phonies.” She paused for a second before taking a third helping of home fries. “Plus,”” she said as she took a giant bite, “I’ll only need to wear sweats and t-shirts.”

Throughout September, Steve upped Sara’s intake of food. Her normal breakfast was a buffet of eggs, bacon, ham, pancakes, waffles and home fries; it was usually the smallest meal of the day. Since she had no need to leave the house, she usually didn’t. Sara was slowly becoming housebound, but she didn’t seem to care. She would occasionally become stressed at the amount of food she was eating, or the changes in her body, but Steve’s tacit approval--along with some occasional teasing--was enough to keep her belly full and her libido high.

Sara’’s surrender did not go unnoticed by Steve. She had given up hope on quelling her desires and was finally living the life that Steve wanted her to. Soon, she would be completely helpless to him and he could complete his fantasy.

***

Throughout the fall, Sara rarely left the living room. She would only move to go to the bathroom, or to move to the table for her two-hour tutoring session. Increasingly tight sweatpants and a braless XXL t-shirt were her only attire.

Sara’’s weight was climbing by leaps and bounds. Each day, Steve would add a little more food to her diet, and each day she would get a little fatter. By November 1st, Sara’s weight was an astounding 268 pounds. By the time December arrived, it had climbed to 283. Her fat-laden body would shake with the slightest of motions and climbing stairs was becoming a real problem. The pills had rotted her muscles so badly that even the short walk to the bathroom was enough to cause her to lose her breath. Her chest would tighten-up and her skin would flush. She was forced to take multiple naps on the couch each day to recover what little energy she could. Eventually, the instructor had to move to the couch to accommodate Sara, while Steve laid out a buffet of snacks on the table in front of them.

During this time, Steve was ecstatic at Sara’s progress, but concerned about his Wife. She was scheduled to return in a few weeks. How would she react to how immense Sara had become? Or the fact that her husband was falling in love with her own daughter? He wasn’t sure how he would deal with her; however, fate intervened before he had the chance.

***

December 18th started out wonderfully. Steve baked holiday goodies and Sara--when she wasn’t nibbling incessantly--helped to wrap gifts. They were both excited that Sara’s mom was returning in a few days and wanted the house perfect. Neither of them had mentioned Sara’s weight, but the joy of seeing her outweighed their apprehension of this sensitive subject. Then, the phone rang. Steve answered it and his face turned white. He began to tremble.

“What‘s wrong?” Sara said, a ribbon still clutched in her hand. Steve hung up the phone and joined Sara at the table.

"Sara, your mother was in a horrible car accident,” Steve said, carefully choosing his words. Sara’s mouth gaped and her eyes moistened.

“She was killed,” Steve continued. “She got caught in a blizzard and was hit head on by another car.” He reached out and held Sara’’s hand as she burst into tears. “I’m sorry Sara, I’m so sorry.” He grabbed hold of her and let her cry for hours.

Christmas was a blur that year. They had the funeral in their home town. Most of the friends and family that gathered for the services hadn‘t seen Sara for a couple years; many didn‘t recognize her. Once they did, most replied meekly that it had “been a long time,” or that she had “grown,” before offering their condolences. A couple of her aunts warned her that she should try to “cut back on the sweets,” but Sara barely acknowledged their presence.

Sara was devastated by the loss of her mother and was panicked at what might happen to her now that she was gone. What would she do? What was going to become of her? Would Steve continue to take care of her, or would he drop her now that her mother had passed-away? Sara was panicky, but once again Steve allayed her fears. He still had plans for her.

Steve told Sara to never worry; that he would always be there to take care of her. Steve reasoned that it must be destiny that they were together now. He loved Sara's mother, but now with her gone Steve could continue pursuing his fantasy with Sara.

Winter went by slowly that year. Steve’s reassuring words had brought Sara even closer to him, but he didn’t feel comfortable enacting his plan so soon after her mother’s death. As a result, Sara’s weight stayed stationary through those months. Things changed, however, once Sara celebrated her 18th birthday that spring.

Finally, Sara was of age. Steve did the best to make her happy and it seemed to work. Her appetite was back in full-swing and she continued to cling to Steve for support. The time to fulfill his fantasy was at hand.

Steve knew that they had to leave town in order to completely execute his plan, so he went in search of isolated homes and cabins in remote areas. He’d always dreamed of owning a log cabin in the middle of nowhere, and now he had a reason to purchase one. Eventually, he found a scenic home miles from civilization. It was expensive; he had to sell all his stock and a couple of his grocery stores to afford it, but he was certain it would be worth it.

By the time summer arrived, everything was in place and Steve invited Sara to live with him in the woods. To Sara, the choice was obvious. She was in no shape to take off on her own, so she agreed to move in with him for a little while--at least until she got her feet on the ground.

***

They moved that July after saying their goodbyes to everyone. Steve didn‘t leave a forwarding address, but told all their friends and family that they would be in touch once they got settled--something he had no intention of doing.

Their new home was beautiful; high atop a mountain and miles from civilization. The scenery was incredible and Sara immediately fell in love with the place. She felt the change of scenery would be good for her. Perhaps the new setting, away from the pressures of school and criticism from friends and family, would allow her to get her life back in shape?

Despite the rustic setting, Steve had three generators installed to provide electricity and a satellite dish to keep Sara occupied; however, no phone service was installed. Steve wanted to make sure they were cut-off from the outside world. As it was, their nearest neighbor was over 20 miles away and the nearest town was 30.

First thing, Steve drove down to the town and stocked his four-wheel drive pick-up to the brim with enough food to last a large family for months. It was all for his growing step-daughter, however, and he found himself returning to town within two weeks for more provisions.

By August, Sara had settled into a routine of getting up, eating till the point of bursting, then going back to bed (which was moved to the living room for easy access) to wait for a lunch that would feed six people. Dinner was usually the biggest meal of the day, however, consisting of multiple cheeseburgers (as many as six), several plates of fries, milkshakes, mashed potatoes, a basket of dinner rolls and at least half a pudding pie for dessert. Steve had become a full-time chef for Sara, but her mealtime spectacles made it all worthwhile.

During the short time between meals, Sara would occasionally talk of getting a job or returning to school, but she never did; Steve made it too easy for her to do nothing.

***

By September 1st, Sara’s weight was well over 300 pounds, but Steve didn’t know how much. On Steve’s next trip to town he stopped at an agricultural center and purchased a cattle scale that was typical of those used by the many farmers in the region.

After installing it outside, Steve slowly and gently led Sara outside as she sipped on a shake he had prepared for her. Sitting her down on the sensor, Steve smiled as the digital scale read an amazing 363 pounds. She was a sight to behold. Her small 5'4 frame was almost completely rounded. This girl--once the penultimate in feminine beauty--had become an almost spherical blob.

He realized that his desire for her was becoming uncontrollable.

The next day, Steve snuck to the bathroom door while she was showering. He had to see her naked. Fortunately for him, Sara had become so fat that her every movement had become a chore. She had to move so deliberately that she was unaware of his presence as he opened the bathroom door to spy. He doubted she’d mind even if she knew--she had become that comfortable around him--but he decided not to risk it and ogled her in secret.

As Sara emerged from the shower and began the lengthy process of drying herself off, Steve creamed in his pants. He couldn’t bear to look at her. She turned him on like never before in his life.

He felt like Doctor Frankenstein. Here was an 18 year-old girl--so fat and flabby--that he had created. Her arms where a full 27 inches around and layered with soft flab. They shook uncontrollably with each waddling step she took. She had developed a giant double-chin that sagged the length of her neck. Her breasts sagged down to where her belly button used to be when she was thin. They were at least FF-cups, with veins streaking down each side. Her belly--her magnificent bulbous belly--had sagged mid-thigh and was looking to droop even more. It shook with the slightest of movement or touch. Several feet behind her, her ass had developed into the largest, super-soft mound of cottage cheese cellulite he had ever seen. Her thighs trembled in protest under her increasing girth, rubbing together as she moved and bright red from the friction. The cellulite from her thighs cascaded down in a fleshy waterfall, completely covering her knees and resting on her calves--which were now wider than her thighs had been just a year before.

As Steve watched her body shake and jiggle in protest of Sara’s every movement, Steve wondered if there was a single strand of muscle left in her body. Steve had to test her strength. He knew she was becoming helpless--this turned him on to no end--but he needed to know how much. He took one last glimpse of his rotund siege and then gently closed the door, a plan already formulating in his twisted mind.

The next day, he asked Sara to bring him a box off the counter. Inside the box, he had set a ten-pound dumbbell. She strained with all her might, but couldn’t lift it. Steve just smiled and led her back to bed to lie down. As he watched her huff and puff from the exertion, he knew the time had come to enact the final phase of his fantasy. His disposition suddenly changed.

“My God Sara, you’re just a blob of fucking fat aren’t you?”” Steve said menacingly, grabbing a handful of her stomach flab and shaking it violently. Sara just stared at him in shock.

“Look at yourself. You used to be the hottest girl in school, but now you’re so ugly that nobody would want you.” Steve’s words sent Sara into a frenzy of hormones. She opened her mouth to protest, but all she could manage was a low moan.

“You were captain of your soccer team!” Steve continued mercilessly. ““Now, you can’t even walk ten feet without collapsing.” Steve grabbed around her bicep. “Why Sara, you can’t even make a muscle can you?”

“Steve…How could you?” Sara mustered, tears streaming down her cheeks. Despite her meager protest, her panties were soaking through.

“How could I Sara? How could YOU?” Steve paced each side of the bed, scrutinizing every one of Sara’s fleshy folds in mock disapproval. “How could you let yourself go like this?” Steve said indignantly.

Even as Steve belittled her, the waves of pleasurable spasms that washed over Sara made it impossible for her to respond.

“You were so naïve Sara,” Steve lectured, “You just kept eating and eating…” Steve once again circled Sara as she lay on the bed: poking, pinching and prodding her layers of soft fat. “First it was a pound here, another pound there…”

“Oh, Steve!” Sara moaned, rubbing her chubby hands between her legs.

“You should have stopped, Sara. Now you have no choice.”

Sara was barely hearing his words; she had erupted in a series of orgasms that shook her entire body.

“You can’t stop me Sara,” Steve said, peeling her tight clothes off of her. “I’m going to make you HUGE!”

With that, he finally mounted his prize. He had waited so long for this. Pushing her belly up, Steve entered her.

“No…” Sara protested; her body shuddering as Steve’s manhood throbbed inside her.

“Yes,” Steve replied, exploding two-years worth of accumulated passion inside Sara‘s fatty recesses.

***

The next morning, Steve unveiled his long-range plan to Sara. Her eyes widened in horror at the realization of what was in store for her.

“Steve, why are you doing this to me?” Sara cried, struggling to cover her bloated body with the bedspread.

“If you don’t like it, you’re free to go,” Steve said nonchalantly, without looking up from his morning paper.

Inspired, Sara swung her legs off the edge of the bed and pushed herself into a standing position. Shaking in protest, her meaty thighs quivered for a moment before steadying, as Sara took a few uncertain steps. Steve watched in amusement as Sara steadied herself after only a few feet, sweat already pouring down her face. Reaching down for her underwear that Steve had left in a heap from the night before, Sara lost her balance and fell headlong onto the floor. More embarrassed and humiliated than hurt, Sara just lay there whimpering. Steve folded his paper and walked to her.

“Sara, Sara, Sara…” Steve said, kneeling beside her. “When will you ever learn?”

Steve helped her to a sitting position--Sara’s malleable fat squishing between his hands like clay. As she sat there sobbing, Steve brought a Kleenex from his pocket and gently dabbed the tears from her eyes.

“Now, now…” He said comforting. “Sara, you just have to realize that you’ve gotten much too fat for this type of exertion.””

“I’m not…” Sara huffed, struggling to maintain her composure, “TOO fat!”

“You’re not?” Steve said, rising to his feet. “My mistake. I’ll leave you alone then.” With that, Steve adjourned to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

Sara leaned up against the wall for several moments. Soon, the smell of pancakes permeated the entire house. Her stomach growled in expectation as her mouth became wet with saliva; this infuriated Sara.

“How could I of let this happen?” Sara fumed, propping herself up. She only hoped, despite Steve’s claims to the contrary, that it wasn’t too late to do something about it.

As she sat, body spread out on the floor like some fleshy beanbag chair, she struggled to focus her mind on coming up with a plan, and away from the inescapable feelings of hunger that kept invading her thoughts. The more she examined her situation, the more hopeless it seemed: No one knew where they were, there was no phone service and they were 30 miles from the nearest town; she couldn’t even drive.

“Whatever I do,” she thought, mustering all the strength and determination she could, “I have to get up first.”

She looked around for something to grab on to. There was a dresser a few feet away and Sara began to scoot towards it, her naked butt making squeaking noises on the paneled floor as she went. Reaching it, Sara grasped at the handle from one of drawers and began to pull herself up. Suddenly, she felt a pressure in her right knee as she transferred her weight: She had done some damage in the fall after all.

“Shit!” Sara exclaimed, as she slipped back down to the floor. Several months ago, she would have noticed the swelling in her knee, now it was impossible to tell.

Undeterred, Sara again reached for a handle and worked to pull herself up. She tried to compensate for her injury by putting most of her weight on her left leg; however, it was too much of a burden and when she was forced to put some pressure on her right knee it buckled. Collapsing to the ground with a mighty thud, Sara cried out impulsively.

“Steve!” Sara screamed, “Oh, God Steve! Please help me!” Once again, tears rolled down her cheeks. The pain in her knee was part of it, but mostly it was the sad realization that she had become helpless without Steve--completely and utterly helpless.

It took Steve over an hour to get Sara back in bed. He bandaged her knee, gave her some pain pills and propped her to a sitting position. Sara remained quiet, but was grateful for the help. She hated what he was doing to her, but her dependence on him had grown too great. She was resigning herself to whatever fate he had in store for her.

“Sara,” Steve said, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently caressing her cheek, “I need you to understand something, ok?”

Sara nodded.

“I’m here to take care of you. You understand that right?”

Sara nodded emotionlessly.

“Good. I will bandage your knee, change your sheets, and cook your meals…” Steve continued gently, “All I ask is one thing.”

Sara looked into Steve’s eyes.

“You will eat anything and everything I put in front of you,” Steve said, his expression changing, “or I will shove it down your Goddamn throat!”

Steve left Sara for a moment to lament her fate. Moments later, he returned with a large batch of pancakes from the kitchen--at least 25--and instructed her to eat them all. Sara choked back her tears as she slowly devoured them one at a time. 45 minutes later, she had eaten 22, but was flagging badly.

“What seems to be the problem here?” Steve said after Sara had paused for a few minutes. “Finish them!”

“I can’t,” Sara cried, bits of pancake falling from her mouth.

“Open up!” Steve screamed, forking a large bite from Sara’s plate.

“No!” Sara clamped her mouth closed tightly, like a stubborn child refusing to eat brussel spouts.

“You’ll be sorry!” Steve chimed, hovering the bite in front of her mouth. The maniacal tone sent a chill through Sara, but she just shook her head defiantly.

Steve threw the fork back on the plate and left the room in disgust. Sara was miserably full, but allowed herself a brief smile for the moral victory. She was nervous about making Steve angry, but was too stuffed to think about it. Eventually, she dozed off into a deep sleep.

When Sara awoke, she was gripped by fear. Her over-taxed heart pounded wildly as she realized what was happening. Steve had tied both her arms and legs to the bedposts and had clipped a clothespin to her nose. He stood next to her alongside the bed, a funnel in one hand and a bucket in the other.

“I told you you’d be sorry,” Steve said, a huge grin spreading across his face.

Before Sara could speak, he shoved the funnel in her mouth and began pouring the contents of the bucket down her throat. Sara gagged a bit, but was forced to swallow or drown. After several minutes, Steve had emptied his entire concoction--a 12,000 calorie mix of buttermilk and weight-gain powder--into Sara’s bloated belly. After cleaning up some of the mess from the feeding, Steve left Sara to recuperate.

Sara moaned in agony. As she lay naked and spread-eagle, Sara stared at her bloated belly as it jut out nearly a foot above her, forcing her now-mammoth breasts to flop on either side of her neck and restricting her airflow. Her stomach trembled visibly, trying to make room for the morning’s feast. She couldn’t be sure, but she swore she could see bright stretch-marks slowly forming as she watched helplessly.

Despite her labored breathing and physical anguish, another feeling was invading her more sensible emotions: She was aroused. Sara could almost feel the fat slowly spreading throughout her body. As her stomach gurgled and groaned, she imagined how all that food was slowly being processed and distributed on her thighs, ass and breasts; just thinking of it was driving her crazy! She tugged at her bonds, not to escape, but so she could be free to pleasure herself--even though she doubted her arms could reach beyond her swollen stomach.

Two hours later, Steve entered the room with another bucket of his homemade slop. Without speaking a word, and ignoring the look of horror on Sara’s face, he went to work emptying the contents into her.

After he had finished, he examined this helpless teenager lying motionless before him; her only signs of life being the intermittent moans that escaped her soiled mouth. At first, Steve believed they were simply moans of agony--which they partly were--but then he noticed the wetness between her legs that had seeped out onto the sheets. Under normal circumstances, the immense apron of Sara’s belly fat would obscure his view, but the morning’s decadence had caused her stomach to rise upwards, defying gravity and revealing her damp pubic region. Steve slid his hand between Sara’s meaty thighs and began a gentle massage.

“Take me…“ Sara gasped, vestiges of her meal dribbling down her cheeks. “Take me now.”

As they made love, Steve explained what the rest of Sara’s life would be like. It was simple: She would lie on the bed and eat, while he would make her as large as humanly possible. Violent orgasms rocked Sara, as he thrust deeper and deeper inside her as if to emphasize each point. Just thinking of how powerless this poor girl was to stop him caused him to erupt inside her. Steve saw the fear in Sara’s eyes and relished in it.

***

By the time Sara's 19th Birthday came, she was anything but a normal teenager: She was a blimp. Her weight had climbed to an astonishing 584 pounds and her body had spread out to cover most of the bed. She needed Steve’s help with the simplest of movements. Even feeding herself had become difficult, as her own arms had become gigantic masses of muscle-less flab that were nearly impossible for her to lift.

While she was lying flat on her back, her stomach rose over three feet in the air after a good feeding. On the rare occasions she would stand--if only for a few seconds--it would roll down to cover her knees. Her ass caused her body to rest in bed a full two feet higher then when she was thinner. Even though they were barely visible when she stood, her thighs had become so fat that they pushed her legs nearly three feet apart while she was in bed.

Stretch marks covered every inch of Sara’s body. She was gaining-weight so rapidly, and expanding in every direction, that they were visible on her every appendage: arms, chest, butt, thighs and, of course, her belly; she had a veritable interstate forming there. They were all bright red and each day Steve could see them expand and lengthen. She even had one on her neck which Steve didn’t think was possible.

Sara was completely bed-bound without Steve‘s help. Even then, it was a struggle. Occasionally, if he was feeling particularly cruel, he would deny her help and laugh as she would struggle to reach certain things, or move certain directions.

He never let up on the cruel comments either. He would constantly remind Sara how life was passing her by and how much she was missing out on. As he would feed her, he would talk about how fat she was getting and that it was a shame such a young girl wasn’t able to do anything but lie in bed. Usually, these comments alone were enough to drive young Sara to orgasm. Good thing too, as normal sex was becoming increasingly impossible.

By the time Sara turned 24, she was nearly unrecognizable as a woman, much less the knock-out cheerleader of nearly a decade before. Steve could only estimate Sara’s weight; the last time he got a reasonably accurate figure she was nearing the half-ton mark. That was many months ago, however, and he now guessed her to be close to 1250 pounds.

She was quite a sight. Completely immobile, Sara even needed Steve’s help to turn her neck. Her chest and belly sagged so much that they forced her arms straight out to her side. Her belly now raised a full six-feet high in the air and was covered with nothing but soft fat that fully blanketed her thighs and nearly covered her calves. Her legs were spread out as far as possible from the fat on each thigh. Even her calves had grown to a point that her feet rested nearly six-inches off the bed.

Sara was by far the most helpless person ever known. She was unable to move a pinky and simply lay in bed all day, while Steve poured more weight-gain drinks down her throat. All the while, he would tell her that she was still too skinny.

***

Steve kept this up until Sara's 26th Birthday. He knew her health was failing her and he expected this Birthday would be her last. Her weight was a mystery, but Steve knew she had to be close to 1,600 pounds. He had secretly hoped she would make it to the one-ton mark, but he knew that wouldn’t happen.

As Steve gave her a special Birthday feeding, he looked over the formless body that lay in front of him. She had become a flowing mass of blubber. Her head was the only real distinguishing feature left on her, and that was only visible from certain angles. The rest of her was just one large mass of pure, soft fat.

“And a pinch to grow an inch!” Steve said, pinching one of the dozen rolls of fat that flowed from Sara to the edge of the bed. “Happy Birthday Sara.”

Steve couldn’t see Sara’s face, but he knew she could hear him. As he watched her chest--at least he thought it was her chest--rise and fall in slow, labored breaths, he figured the end was near. A faint wheezing sound was all he could hear coming from the direction of Sara’s head.

“We’ve been through a lot the last ten years haven’t we?”

Sara didn’t reply. Steve didn’t expect one; the fat that pressed up around Sara’s mouth and neck made talking very difficult. Steve looked around for a place to sit on the bed, but couldn’t find one. Instead, he knelt next to Sarah and--after searching for a moment--grabbed hold of her hand.

“Can you believe it’s been three whole years since you were able to move? Time sure does fly.” He felt Sara’s hand struggling to remove itself from his grasp.

“My goodness Sara,” Steve continued, clutching her hand tighter, “You really have become helpless haven’t you?”

He could tell he was getting to her; her palm became sweaty and an almost rhythmic twitch enveloped her entire body.

“All this extra weight can’t be healthy for a young woman like you,”” Steve lectured, as Sara’s hand clutched his tightly. “Remember, you’re not a teenager anymore. You should probably start watching what you eat…”

Deep within the fleshy cocoon that was Sara’s body, Steve’s words rang in her head. She couldn’t see him--she wasn’t able to see much beyond the fleshy cheeks that had reduced her eyes to mere slits--but his words were clear.

Sara listened as Steve talked about how she was a prisoner of her own gluttonous desires, about how nothing could stop him from achieving his ultimate goal: feeding her to death. Strangely, this didn’t alarm Sara anymore. It was if she was in a dream and was powerless to affect what was happening.

She was vaguely aware that Steve was fucking her. She couldn’t feel him inside her, or even see him performing, but her body was shaking violently and folds of her skin rocked back and forth in front of her face. She thought she heard him say something about it being her “Birthday present.”

Sara thought about how she had gotten so fat that she couldn’t even feel sex. Just thinking about it had a greater titillating effect on her than all of Steve’’s pushing, throbbing and grabbing. The more she thought about it, the hotter she was getting. Buried somewhere deep within her chest, her heart raced to keep up with her mental libido as well as the physical exertion Steve was putting her through.

The strain proved to be too much. Sara felt a sharp pain in her chest and released one last gasp as her world grew dark; the last sounds she heard being those of Steve’s pleasurable moans as he climaxed deep within her.

THE END

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This story always reminds me how horrific this fetish can get. Add a sadistic tinge to a basic fetish and it instantly becomes mindbogglingly disturbing.