Arrangement (Part 3)

A full decade had passed since Amalia officially became an equal ruler alongside her husband Connor. Much had changed in that time. They had been married for over fifteen years and had a small horde of daughters. Amalia and Connor were both well-loved by the people and the nobility, and even the royal council had come around to Amalia’s hands-on approach.

The change that mattered most to Amalia, though, was how large her lover had grown. Years of having nothing to worry his pretty little head about but his next meal had made him massive. Once, she had weighed and measured him regularly, and they had both obsessed over the increasing numbers. But at a certain point, the numbers no longer mattered. Instead, they measured his heft in milestones.

There was the day he’d had to start exclusively riding in carriages, as there were no horses large enough to safely carry his bulk. Then the day he’d gotten stuck in the carriage door for the umpteenth time. No amount of pushing or pulling and, eventually, grease had been able to dislodge him, and they had needed to cut the carriage door from his hips to extricate him. They had invested in carriages with double doors that opened outward after that.

There was the day their bed broke beneath them during an evening of particularly vigorous lovemaking. And, not long after that, he had gotten stuck again, this time in the doorway to their bedroom. Amalia had considered retrofitting the entire castle, but instead chose to build a new one better suited to her husband’s needs. It cost about the same, anyway.

Their life was filled with little moments like that now. Amalia did what she could to make things as accessible as possible so her husband could continue to grow without much bother. Connor, as always, was perfectly content to let her handle the complicated parts while he busied himself pursuing life’s pleasures.

At first, the courtiers had barely been able to hide their disgust at this arrangement. It became more clear that it was really Amalia alone who ran things as Connor ballooned. It had also gotten harder to hide Connor’s appetites and her own predilections, so they had become a little less concerned over publicly displaying affection in the way that mattered to them. It became a common occurrence for Amalia to feed Connor a bite of a dish or two during meals, or rest her hand on his vast belly as they held court together. At first, this had been shocking to many, but over time, opinions began to shift.

It was the social climbers who seemed to reconsider their opinions first. Young women intent on a title, some land, or a general improvement in their family fortunes had flocked to Connor in his youth. At a certain point, though, they had given up, repelled by the king’s increasing weight. That didn’t mean that there weren’t people still willing to throw themselves in the path of a monarch in the hopes of riches. But for a time, it wasn’t young women trying to woo Connor. Instead, it was young men trying to figure out how to appeal to Amalia.

Unsurprisingly, they realized their best chance at securing her affections was through their own stomachs. She watched a handful of young men showily gorge themselves at meals, trying to prove they, too, could satisfy her in an attempt to gain her favor. Amalia found this wonderfully amusing. There was nothing quite like watching young men who had until recently been very conscious of their figures going to pot and suddenly sporting fat little bellies just to win her attention. No one ever succeeded. She couldn’t deny that she took pleasure in watching them eat and grow, but that didn’t mean she wanted any of them for her bed. She was far too busy to take lovers, and so spoiled by being with someone she considered the ideal man that she knew they would never measure up.

In an interesting turn, even after they began to realize Amalia was deeply disinterested in their attempts, they didn’t go back to their old habits. She couldn’t say for sure whether they tried to reverse course, but if they did, their attempts failed. Not one of them managed to slim down again; all of them continued to gain over the years.

One of those men’s wives eventually became lady-in-waiting to Amalia. One day, when Lady Burrock was helping the queen dress, she asked Amalia what it was she found so appealing about Connor. “You mean his body?” Amalia had clarified.

The maid stammered out a yes. “My husband is… not so slim as he once was, and I do not know—that is to say, I am having trouble—”

“You don’t understand why a larger man is appealing.”

The maid blushed a deep red, which was answer enough for Amalia.

“Is it that you don’t understand, or that you’re afraid to? I know a strong, athletic man is what others find desirable, but is it truly what you like? Think for a moment of the pleasures of a soft husband. How it feels when he pulls you into a hug. That sleepy, sensuous look in his eyes after a meal. Feeling his weight over you in bed.” The maid looked at her with wide eyes. Amalia wasn’t sure if it was a look of dawning comprehension or confusion. “He is still your husband, dear. He just offers a slightly different bevy of pleasures now.”  The maid had nodded and then changed the subject. But Amalia noticed that the young couple always seemed quite happy whenever she saw them after that conversation.

***

Over the next few years, there was a slow shift in the court’s aesthetic preferences. While the thin, athletic ideal for men didn’t disappear, it was clear people’s idea of what was desirable had broadened (and quite literally at that). It wasn’t like everyone decided they wanted to pork up overnight, or even that most of the men at court had gotten larger. Really, it was that the noblewomen’s tastes had changed. They no longer shunned men above a certain size.

This meant that there was much renewed interest in Connor. Women began to flirt with him again, the lust in their eyes quite genuine. Amalia had no issue with her husband keeping mistresses so long as she still had a place in his bed, and was delighted that there were others to make her king feel desired and bring him pleasure when she was otherwise occupied.

Connor certainly appreciated the attention, particularly when it came with extra feedings. There had been more than one occasion where Amalia entered their chambers to find Connor belly-up and groaning, so stuffed all he could do was try to massage his belly. “Try” was an important word there; Connor had gotten so rotund that when he was properly stuffed, he couldn’t quite reach his hands around his bloated belly. Amalia always enjoyed this sight, and she would tease him gently about how greedy he was.

One evening, she caught him in exactly this predicament for the second time in a week, his pudgy fingers digging into his belly fat, trying to give himself some relief. She couldn’t resist toying with him a bit as she came into his line of sight. “I bet you’re still hungry, aren’t you?”

He was all bluster then, demanding she devote her attention to his aching stomach before trying to ply him with more food. “I know you’d rather I never stop eating, wanton little hussy that you are, but I can’t keep eating if I burst, can I?”

She looked around for the sweet-scented oils he liked to have rubbed across his belly when he ached like this, tut-tutting as she took her time, making him wait. “My, my, someone’s become quite the greedy piggy, hasn’t he?” She had grown to love teasing her fat king, especially when he was too full to do anything about it. Oh, sure, he would get her back later—pinning her against the wall with nothing but his soft stomach was one of his favorite ways to return the favor—but in the moment, she couldn’t resist. “How did it come to be that you let some pretty girl feed you until you couldn’t move and you didn’t even coax a belly rub out of her?”

“Nevermind why. Even if I had, not one of those girls can set me to rights like you can.” Amalia found the oil and climbed onto the bed, sitting on her knees between his legs. From that vantage point, she could truly appreciate just how enormous he’d gotten. Years of unchecked gluttony had left every part of him swaddled in fat, from his round cheeks to his wobbly thighs. She poured the oil directly onto his belly. He hissed a little as the cool oil hit his skin. The scent of narcissus filled the room as she massaged the oil in, hands roaming first to his side rolls and then up to his breasts, which had grown larger than her own years ago. She could feel how full he was, the top of his belly straining to contain that day’s repasts.

She lost herself in her explorations for a few moments, still amazed at her husband’s impressive softness, how much give there was to it all, inches and inches of pure fat for her to enjoy… It wasn’t until he cleared his throat to get her attention that she snapped out of it. “I know you’re having fun, but I still need a little help here.”

Amalia shifted her attention immediately. “Of course, love. Sorry to keep you waiting. There’s just so much of you. I feel like you managed to get even bigger today than you were yesterday. How is that possible?” She focused her hands on his upper belly, doing what she could to help him digest. Almost immediately, he belched so loudly it made him vibrate. “Excuse m—” he tried to say, before erupting into another ear-rattling burp.

“Goodness, no wonder you felt so full.” She pressed a little on his upper belly. It felt less swollen already. “Feel like you have a little more room now?”

He looked so relaxed she thought he might fall asleep then and there. “That was just what I needed. I might have overdone it today.” He reached his hands forward and she helped him sit up, moving to fluff the pillows behind him so he would be comfortable. His belly spread out in all directions, stacks of rolls appearing along his sides now that he was upright.

“Oh?” she asked, trying not to sound overeager. The only thing she loved more than hearing about his indulgences was feeding him herself.

“I… may or may not have eaten an entire duck today.”

“Just one?” That was hardly enough to leave him stranded in bed.

“...as an appetizer. Before my usual breakfast.” His “usual” breakfast involved more eggs than most ate in a week, whole loaves of bread fried in butter, and pounds upon pounds of sausage and bacon. “Lunch was an entire goose.”

Amalia’s jaw dropped. She knew his appetite had grown, but the thought of him eating an entire twenty pound bird for a midday meal after an immense breakfast and a “snack” that would be enough food for an entire day for one man had her soaking wet almost immediately. “A whole goose? Just for lunch?” she stammered. She could see it in her mind’s eye: Connor shoveling bite after bite of perfectly cooked goose into his mouth, probably dipping every other bite into gravy, and following it all with wine and potatoes.

He tried to continue, beginning to say, “Dinner was—mmph!” He didn’t get to finish talking. Amalia had practically pounced on him, her hands cupping his chubby face as she kissed him, her legs wrapped tightly around his lower belly, sinking into his abundant softness. He loved how endlessly eager she was, how quick to show her appreciation. He had never regretted his descent into pure gluttony, and Amalia was a big part of why. Never for a second did he doubt how much she wanted every ounce of him.

They ended that evening with her beneath him, her legs around his bloated hips and his belly resting heavily on top of her, fucking like they meant it. It was rare they actually had intercourse, given the amount of effort and maneuvering involved, and rarer still for Connor to be on top. Even though it was work, both of them had been so desperate for each other that they’d made it happen. When they finished, they were both spent and sweaty, Connor’s muscles shaking from the effort. And of course, Connor was ready for another meal. Just the way Amalia liked him.