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Since I had preferences....I preferred seeing someone I like romantically gain weight. I wanted to show my interest and adoration by seeing you grow.

At first I told myself It was just a little appreciation, not a preference.

Not a desire...not a need...But I noticed something when I started maturing....I wasn't relating to the trends and suggestions of other people coming-of-age....It wasn't promiscuity or penetration that began to inform my libido.....

It was encouraging EXCESSIVE fatness for loving and sadistic reasons all at once. It was seeing a loss of self control, the sensory heaven of being held by somebody so soft, the consequences of removing limitations, the luxury of eating and living informed by pleasures only, facing predicaments of becoming fatter than you ever thought you would get, loving your body without lifestyle restrictions, enabling the helplessness of gluttony and hedonism....

I just couldn't get enough.

I told myself, even if it's a preference, it wouldn't rule me. That it's just something I really enjoy.

Yet...soon it became all I could think about. I tried to resist it. I tried to explore other things....not because I was ashamed....there's NOTHING to be ashamed about in being large or finding fat beautiful. Fat is normal and it is beautiful....so If that's the case, what was the reason I kept fighting myself on it?

Well, because I'm obsessed. I need it.

I couldn't finish and be satisfied if I wasn't taking action on making you fatter, dumber, and lazier, willingly.

I need to make you fatter and I NEED to be responsible. I need to take ACCOUNTABILITY for it. I need your gain to be a representation of excessive indulgence. I need to handcraft a life that left you enveloped in cozy, padded, plump layers of hedonistic consequences.

I need to see beautiful softness obscure your sharp jawline. I need heavy padded pillow arms resting on hips so wide they're shelf flat. I need to see spilling rolls and folds of fluff and the curve of your ever lower-hanging indulgence apron, competing only with the softness of your massive couch bound bum. I need to see your width debate more and more aggressively with your wardrobe EVERY day. I need it.

I didn't just want it. I couldn't pretend I didn't. Every slim person I fell for, they just NEEDED more. I NEEDED more. So they knew I loved them. That I was obsessed.

I need soft features on EVERY inch, collar bones, wrists, fingers....nothing escaping the softness you've claimed. I need your whole body to shake and jiggle with the heavy stomp of a waddling heel, up through couch filling thighs, past your distended gut, a hefty soft chest, and cease at your soft chin and cheeks, with EVERY step.

I need to see it affect your mobility and cardio, not just enough to notice, but damn, as far as you'll let it be taken. I need to re-introduce you to your friends and family every time the time gap makes you unrecognizably fat to them all. I need them to watch the once modest person that they knew eat until their pants unseam from pressure.

You haven't wanted to work since your new lifestyle started to take place, so instead, I let you pig out here under my care! You probably haven't cared that you get more absorbed by your habits and pleasures day after day. You took up gaming, and binging your favorite series. You don't do much anymore......but before you blame me......you haven't tried to stop it once. You claim to have felt guilty at first, I know. But that was for show, you've unlearned that. Because you LOVE it.

Your face has no filter when I grab handfuls of the new curves you've grown for yourself. Your mouth has no mute when I massage the places you haven't been able to reach in a long time. You hum and moan so affectionately when your body is jiggled by your love handles, it's practically purring. You love it.

I love the sensitivity of your stretch marks, the ones I trace as my hands locate the next place to dig into dough and jiggle you more. I love seeing the squirm and then blush in dominoes that comes from your guilty arousal in how quickly you blew up. You got so fat so fucking fast.

You love how hard it is to get around now, bumping tables, brushing door frames, getting stuck delightfully often......I could see your mind blank out in indulgent pleasure through your eyes before you ask for help with simple tasks like shoelaces.

You found out about my secret.

I found out it was yours too.

Baby, quit resisting your urges.