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CONTENT WARNING: This story is completely fictitious and contains: Extreme Weight Gain, Forced Feeding, Humiliation, Slight Slob, Morbid Health Risks, and Manipulation.


    Katie hadn’t made a resolution that I was aware of, but I certainly had, to keep her gaining as much as possible. I made sure she had food near her at all times now, and I stuffed her to bursting a few times a week, and even her normal meals were now as large as the binges we first started with. Since New Year’s night Katie had been a shell, showing little emotion and not saying much besides pleasantries, instead choosing to focus on the tv and food in front of her, she simply stared mindlessly at the screen and ate. In the last six months, Katie had only left the house a handful of times, an each of them were for trips to a drive-thru, she didn’t want to be a part of that world any more, she didn’t belong there anymore. But today, she would have to be, I had scheduled her yearly check up, and couldn’t wait to hear what the doctor had to say this time, she had been an eating machine this year, I wanted her weight gain to truly shock him. I was not disappointed.
    As she sat on the reinforced bench in the doctors office, red faced and catching her breath, I beamed with satisfaction while listening to the physician go over her blood work and tests. I made sure Katie had her phone and was well entranced with some celebrity gossip, so as not to worry her stupid little head about all of the issues her weight was now causing her. At only 22 years old, Katie had now glutted herself up to a massive 456lbs, having gained over a hundred pounds since her last check up, the doctor had to check his chart twice to be sure, she now had a BMI of 75 and was morbidly obese. Despite his warnings last year, Katie had developed Type 2 Diabetes and would need to start taking injections, something I had long looked forward to. She was also diagnosed with hypertension and mild sleep apnea, and suggested that we invest in an oxygen tank for when she’s winded, or to help her sleep if needed. He had a slew of other concerns as well, such as arthritis, blood clots, cirrhosis of the liver and being more prone stroke, all of which were just notes in a symphony of obesity, and I was the conductor.
    I helped my winded girlfriend into the backseat of our SUV, she had been having trouble fitting the front seat, and I marveled at the way her body jiggled as we drove. After everything the doctor had told me I knew just what my big girl needed, so I drove right past the pharmacy and into the Burger Doodle parking lot. I was still a regular there, for Katie’s sake, and they recognized my voice when I pulled up to the drive-thru. I ordered more than usual, as this was cause for celebration, no one could see Katie through the back window, so once the food started coming it I passed it right back to her. She didn’t question the amount of food but rather, like the obedient pig she had become, she just started eating. She was so entranced with the greasy meal that she hadn’t heard the trunk open and the boxes being set back there, she was too engulfed in the hot salty fries that she gobbled with one hand, and the savory, cheesy, fattening Clown Car Burger that she shoved into her open maw.
    Back at the house she waddled in with the last bag, and headed toward her couch. Anyone who entered could tell where she sat, the couch had become her own personal throne, it sagged deep and her ass had left an impression that was undeniable. The arms of the chair had grease stains from years of wiping fingers, the cushions had a whole spectrum of drops and spots from where she had spilled food, that left lasting marks despite cleaning them up. She plopped down and the furniture creaked, it would be time to replace it soon, but I had hoped we wouldn’t need to. I carried the first box into the kitchen and opened it up, pulling out a giant bag of thick white liquid. There was a little nozzle in one corner and I filled up a 32 oz glass of it, checked the nutrition label and did the math in my head as I made way over to the couch where Katie was finishing the last of her Chicken Nuggies. I handed her the glass and without looking she took a sip. Her eyes shot open, and her lips smacked trying to recall the taste of what she had just drank.
    Her mouth opened to speak but before she could, I confirmed her suspicions, it was the ice cream mix that they poured into the soft serve machines at Burger Doodle. For the first time since last year Katie tried to deny me, setting the glass down quickly and having a rare moment of clarity, but I had prepared for this. I pulled a funnel from behind the couch, something I had used only in times like this, when she needed to be taught a lesson. She was too out of shape to get away, her arms too heavy to push me away, and her will so broken that she gave up quickly. The funnel was forced past her teeth and as soon as I saw her tongue move from the hole I began to pour the thick creamy liquid down her throat. In a matter of seconds the connection was swirling around with the rest of her greasy feast and she panted to catch her breath. I proudly told her she had just consumed 800 calories of pure sugar, fat and carbs, then I poured her a second glass. This one she took back in her hand and looked up at me with pleading eyes. I explained that she hadn’t been eating enough for my liking, this would help out considerably. Each bag contained a little over two gallons of ice cream mixture, and by my guess she could willingly take back a gallon or so a day if she tried. And she would have to, because from now on, this was what she had to wash her meals down with, and if she fought me, I would funnel it into her massive gut.
    This new regiment combined with her fastly decreasing mobility meant her weight skyrocketed, by the end of summer she had finally reached 500lbs. There was no look of horror or shock on her face though, instead it was complacency, she had accepted this was her fate. She was quite a sight at her 500 celebration, a small affair, just me, my quarter ton Katie and a whole sheet cake. I had set the cake on the coffee table in front of her, and to add insult to humiliation, a little party hat right on her head. I started to feed her the cake with a serving spoon, and she just sat there and opened her mouth, this was her place now, this was her life. The first half of the cake went down quickly, but her pace slowed, she was chewing huge mouthfuls and spilling chocolate drool out of the corners of her mouth, which dripped down her chins and onto her sweat stained shirt. It took nearly 90 minutes, but I made sure she ate every crumb of that cake, Katie leaned back on the couch moaning, clutching her stomach, her eyes closed and oblivious to my movements. She was soon alerted to my presence has the terrible taste of a plastic hose was forced into her lips, she tried to yell out but it was too late. Her eyes franticly looking towards the table behind me, where a half emptied bag of her special drink lay waiting. The cake was spongey, ripe for soaking up the dense liquid, I grabbed the bag and began to pour.
    Katie squirmed and writhed but I had straddled her massive belly, and my weight plus hers was too much, she was helpless as I filled ever spare space in her throbbing taught stomach with the calorie have mixture. She started to tear up but as I poured all 4,000 calories into her, her eyes just rolled into the back of her head, and after she took the final gulp, I removed the funnel and she immediately passed out. A few hours later she came too on the couch, a display of junk food had been laid out for her on the table, and I stood there beaming while she groggily got her bearings on what had transpired earlier. Also on the table was her blood sugar tester, we had used it a couple of times now, but mostly I enjoyed shooting her up with insulin to help her appetite along, and I always made sure to kiss the hard darkened skin that constant insulin use had left her with. I happily informed my diabetic princess that she had a new record on the glucose meter, she hit an all time high of 530 mg/dL, but this news didn’t phase her, it didn’t seem to concern her that she nearly went into diabetic shock. Instead, she flipped on the TV and grabbed a bag of cookies from the table.

    Two and a half months had passed since that day, today was Katie’s 23rd birthday. When she weighed in earlier in the week she was up to 517lbs, and after she had the breakfast I was preparing, I had a surprise for her. While she was busy eating, I had been remoddling the back bedroom; I knocked down the wall between it and the spare bathroom, installed pullies and railings on the wall, mounted a big TV, and ordered a genuine hospital bed that moved up and down, and came complete with a built in oxygen tank. I wheeled the cart slowly towards where she sat on the couch as the lard melted into the hashbrowns, even now I could tell how hard this life was for her, but after today things would be better. Little did she know, I had been preparing to ease her into immobility, she couldn’t stand for long anyway and she hadn’t left the house since her last doctors appointment. As I brought the massive girl her massive meal, I assured her that today would be one she wouldn’t soon forget. Today was the day that this had all been leading up to for Katie, since the first time she I laid eyes on her pudgy little beer belly, to the massive heaving fat pile she had been conditioned to become, today was the first day of her immobility.