As soon as I get home from work, you've already set the table, with plates piled high with every delicious treat imaginable. But you haven't touched a single one, just as you've been trained.
You know the rules, and the rules are that you can only eat if I give you permission. So I take you by the hand and lead you over to the table, sit you down, and place a plate full of your favorite food in front of you.
Go on, eat up. I want you to have seconds, thirds, and fourths. I want you to fill up every empty space in your stomach and have plenty of room for dessert, too.
I want you to keep eating until you're stuffed, until your pants feel tight and uncomfortable and you feel the need to loosen your belt. Your shirt will ride up a little bit as your belly starts to poke out of it, and you'll see your belly button stretch as your skin gets tighter and tighter.
Still, you won't stop eating. No, you won't be able to. It feels so good to eat, and it feels even better when I'm here encouraging you. You love the feeling of being so full, your gut swollen with your gluttony, especially once I start taking pity on you and rub that taut skin.
You're so good, so obedient. Keep eating. Don't stop. Just stuff yourself for me and let your belly grow and grow and grow.
