Chapter 13

“Bless us oh Lord,” sang out Martha in prayer-rhythm, completely ignoring Melody’s question, “And these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ our Lord, Amen!”

Kyle swallowed down his fear as he felt Martha’s gigantic hand squeeze his at the end of the prayer. It was hard for him not to stare stupidly at the empty space on the table, where his bowl of beef stroganoff should have been, but he had already realized that, if he was going to survive this dinner, he was going to have to play it all off.

“Oh, I’m – I’m actually not hungry,” he said quickly, in answer to his mother’s initial question. Next to him, Martha was already digging into her massive bowl, using a cup-sized spoon to ladle colossal quantities of the stroganoff into her mouth. She hardly even seemed to chew before she swallowed and had another giant spoonful waiting at her lips. Across the table, both of Kyle’s parents were looking at him hesitantly, though Jim had shrugged and was beginning to eat. Melody, though, hadn’t picked up her spoon yet. Her eyes were studying Kyle closely, as if she didn’t quite believe what he was saying.

“Not hungry?” she asked after a few seconds. “But…it’s dinner time! You invited us over here – you should be eating with us!”

“I know, I knowwww, heheh,” Kyle sighed, trying to make light of the situation as he desperately cooked up some excuse. “But I accidentally kinda had a…a bigger lunch than I intended, and it just…you know…I tried to go for a walk around the block, to uhm, heh, to try and walk it off, right? But I don’t know, it’s just…my stomach still feels kinda heavy, and I’d rather uhhh…I’ brother just sit here with you guys while you eat…I mean, if that’s ok.”

Melody sat there, unmoving, as her stare remained fixed on him, unbroken. Kyle felt his heart sink; he knew that she wasn’t buying his story, and, worse, that she was trying to understand why he would lie to her about something so apparently trivial. She blinked, looked into her bowl, and then looked back at him. There wasn’t any way around it – she looked troubled, almost as if she was on the verge of calling him out and demanding that he tell her the truth.

“Honey, just leave it, he said he’s not hungry,” muttered Jim, who was already a few spoonfuls into his dinner. He glanced up from his meal. “As long as you’re not feeling sick or anything, right?”

“Oh nooo, no, not sick,” Kyle chuckled, shaking his head. “Just…you know…full.”

The real irony, which Kyle was only too aware of, was that he wasn’t actually lying at all. Sure, he had sprinkled in that bit about the walk around the block (which he had substituted for his nap in the crib), but the rest was basically true – he had drank more of Martha’s milk than he had intended that afternoon, until he was stuffed to the brim. And the truth was that, as a result, he really wasn’t all that hungry. But they couldn’t know that – and they wouldn’t know that, as long as Martha kept up the facade.

“See, he’s fine,” Jim smiled, going back to his meal. “Come on, Melody, you gotta try this stroganoff. Martha, it’s delicious!”

“Oh I’m so happy you like it, Jim!” smiled Martha warmly. “Now Melody, I’m sure you’ve made a similar recipe at some point – and no doubt fed it to Kyle, of course – so I’d like to know how my own personal recipe measures up!”

Spurred on by these words, Kyle’s mother directed her attention to her bowl, though the oddity of her son not eating anything still obviously sat uneasily with her. For his part, Kyle was trying hard not to fixate on watching Martha eat. Somehow she managed to carry on perfectly normal conversation in the midst of downing the most enormous spoonfuls of food in between her words, and the short pauses in between sentences. It made Kyle’s head spin thinking about how much she was actually consuming – and how quickly. Glancing side-eyed at her colossal bowl a few moments later, Kyle saw that the stroganoff was nearly all gone.

‘That has to be like, literally…two or three pounds of food,’ he thought helplessly. Under the table, and inside his diaper, his erection was growing again. Martha was such a massive, hulking beast of a woman – an absolute animal – and yet somehow she had all the looks, all the conversational tricks, all the mental gymnastics to complete her physical domination. In every conceivable sense, she eclipsed him, and left him sitting there next to her at the table, lusting after her body, her appetite, and the milk that he could almost feel her producing in those irresistible breasts that were straining her black sparkly dress to its limits. Kyle had the sense that, if Martha had wanted to, she could have flexed her muscles hard, and the dress would have torn all the way down in four or five places – her breasts, her shoulders, her biceps, her forearms, and of course, her hips and ass. She could have shredded it, just like she could shred him. But she had kept him alive – and uninjured – all this time for a reason. And deep down, as much as he shivered to admit it, Kyle knew what that reason was.

In the meantime, Melody had sampled a spoonful of the stroganoff, and was looking down, blinking at the table, as she slowly nodded her head. Martha was watching her closely, and Kyle got even more nervous when he saw the muscle in her cheek flexing, then unflexing a few times as she watched her. In every other conspicuous physical aspect, Martha was as calm as could be – but Kyle had seen her jaw set like that before. He was afraid of what might come next.

“So...you like it, Melody?” Martha inquired, her dark eyes flashing eagerly.

“I do, yes,” Melody nodded, her voice subdued. Kyle began to worry that his mother was gearing up for something – like, the next moment, she would throw down her spoon, stand up out of her chair, and point accusingly at Martha, demanding to know just what the hell was going on. He could sense something of that type of energy in his mother’s countenance, but he could also see her weighing her options. It wasn’t at all to be discounted how physically imposing Martha was. A moment later, a slavering gullet sound proved this point exactly. Kyle turned in surprise to see that Martha had taken her gigantic bowl in both hands, tipped it up, and poured the remainder of her helping into her gaping mouth. She didn’t even make a pretense of chewing anymore; she was literally just dumping it all down her throat. And when she had poured it all down, Kyle had watched in horrified arousal as her huge, thick tongue issued forth and proceeded to lick and lap up all the excess juice. The hungry sounds of her busy tongue and open mouth mauled any attempted conversation, and all the other three could do was watch her finish. The next moment, she had placed the giant bowl down on the table, which was now totally white and clean inside, and wiped her mouth daintily (as an obvious contrasting joke) with her napkin.

“Please forgive me,” she chuckled to Kyle’s parents across the table. Jim was staring at her with a kind of bemused awe, but it was clear that Melody had found her latest stunt positively revolting. “I haven’t eaten too much today, and…well, I’ve just had soooo much taken out of me, heheh, that I really couldn’t hold myself back just then.” She held up her massive hands, extending her long, thick fingers all at once, and then smacked them down into her voluminous belly, jiggling it playfully. “A big girl like me has to eat a LOT of calories every day, especially when she’s…depended on like I am.”

She let the conversational silence thicken around the table, while the only sound that remained was the audible jiggling of her belly against the table. Both Jim and Melody clearly had no idea what to make of what she had just said, so she just sat there, smiling, bouncing her belly around, until she finally turned to Kyle and said, winking at him:

“Momma’s gotta get herself a second helping!” And then, turning to Jim and Melody, she added: “Excuse me a moment, you two, I’ll be right back.”

Martha then pushed back her chair, abruptly rising from it (as the chair groaned out in relief) as she seized her enormous bowl off the table with two fingers and went traipsing away into the kitchen. All the bowls and utensils on the dining room table shook audibly with each step she took; even once she had reached the kitchen, the dining room table and floor trembled noticeably in reaction to the movement of her feet.

Kyle had been staring at her wake, his entire body twisted around the back of his chair so that he could watch her enormous body move and sway in that odd, uncanny way – it was crazy to see someone so massive move with such apparent ease and dexterity, almost waltzing about, like she weighed nothing at all. And yet, whenever her feet came down, the reality of her weight was blatantly clear. How much did she weigh now, again? 320!? Kyle felt like she was looking even bigger these days…even more rotund, solid, and strong. And, now that he thought about it, her breasts were certainly bigger, and her nipples seemed to fill more of his mouth. She had been on a ravenous food-kick recently, even by her standards, and up until this moment, Kyle hadn’t “put two and two together,” so to speak. But, spurred on by what Martha had just said, it was clear now why she was eating more: more and more each day, she was breastfeeding him, and so she was fueling herself up, for her body to make more and more milk for him to suckle, for him to drink down…it was his only source of nutrition at this point.

‘It’s what I’m made up of now,’ he thought, his erection desperately pressing into his diaper as he looked down helplessly at his body perched up on top of the phone books in the chair. ‘Her milk. I’m…I’m made of her milk now…’

“Kyle!?”

His mother’s voice caused his attention to snap back into the present, and he bent himself back around to face his parents across the table. They both looked concerned and uncomfortable, but Melody’s face had gone white. She looked distinctly worried. Kyle realized that he had been gaping after Martha the whole time, his mouth slightly open, as his mind had wandered to all the profane things that were progressively usurping his mind. He also realized that his face was completely flushed, and that he had started to sweat. It wasn’t from embarrassment, though – it was from sheer, lustful desire. He wanted Martha to pick him up, smother him, dominate him, manhandle him, take her giant, hot mouth and latch onto his cock and balls, sucking and sucking until he squealed out like a pig and came over and over in her mouth. And then, when he was all empty and worn out, an exhausted husk, he wanted her to cradle him up close, warming him with her body heat, her prodigious breasts surrounding him, as she guided a fat, dribbling nipple into his mouth to refuel him and start the cycle over again.

“Huh?” he asked blankly, blinking across the table at his mother.

“Are you okay, Kyle?” Melody asked, leaning over her bowl at him. “Your…your face is all flushed.”

“I’m…fine,” he managed to say, his face getting even redder when his mother pointed out its color.

Melody kept staring hard at him, and upon receiving nothing reassuring from her son, she squirmed in her chair, turning to her husband, who was still spooning beef stroganoff into his mouth. He was eating slower now, though, and was now watching his son closer as well. Even Jim could tell that something was up. Martha was humming away in the kitchen, and from there came the loud sound of giant ladles of stroganoff splatting into her bowl. The parents shared a look, and then Melody turned back to Kyle, squirmed uncomfortably in her seat again, and then asked in a whisper, leaning forward:

“What did…what did she call herself when she was talking to you? Momma!?”

“Oh…oh, heheh, yeah, that’s…that’s just something she does,” Kyle whispered back, waving away her concern. He could see a way out of this – he could see a way to explain it all away. “Something she calls herself, uh…sometimes. You know, kinda like the “Mom of the House” type thing?” He paused for effect, and continued, feeling a surge of confidence as he spoke. “I mean, haha, I’m sure you guys can tell that she’s a little…oh, I don’t know…a little eccentric, right?”

Melody blinked at her son, her eyes getting wider. “A little…uhm, yes, I’d say so.” Jim nodded slightly in agreement.

“But…I mean, you know,” continued Kyle, amazed at himself for being so quick on his feet, “I kind of just humor her most of the time, right? Think about it – she’s not married, no kids, lives here all alone…I honestly think she’s lonely. And this is sorta her way of, like, having her own household.”

He stopped talking and looked back and forth between his parents, trying as hard as he could not to have a look of desperation, like he was begging them to buy his explanation. They sat there staring at him for a couple seconds, and then their eyes wandered across the table; clearly they were thinking about what Kyle had just said. He felt an immense sense of relief, and took the opportunity to try and redirect the conversation elsewhere. An idea popped into his head; he had happened to glance at the sports section of the newspaper on the kitchen table the other day in between feeding sessions with Martha, and had seen that the local baseball team was doing well. Somehow, he managed to remember that now, and tried to use it to steer the conversation.

“So dad! Uh, been keeping up with the Boomers lately?” he asked, trying as hard as he could to keep his voice light and casual. “I saw they’re on a five-game winning streak here…pretty good, huh?”

Jim cleared his throat and nodded, looking at his son. “Mhm, yeah! Um, pretty good…pretty good…”

“You think we’ll make the playoffs this year?” Kyle asked, feeling a bit of momentum. “How many years has it been since we had a good October run?”

“Heh! Feels like ages,” Jim chuckled. His brow furrowed slightly as he cocked his head to the side. “You been watching the games?”

“Oh! I…y-yeah…yeah, some of them,” Kyle lied, not quite knowing why he hadn’t told the truth.

“Huh, so you go to a bar or something, I guess?” Jim asked.

“A bar?” Kyle asked, confused.

“Well it’s just that…” Jim explained, looking back into the living room, “Martha doesn’t seem to have a TV here.”

“That’s because television is bad for you, Mr. Trinter,” came Martha’s big, warm voice. She had been in the kitchen for a while, and Kyle had wondered what she was doing. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he somehow knew that, after getting more food, she had been standing there silently, listening to their conversation. And now she had returned to the dining room, reasserting her presence as she sat back down in her gigantic chair, which groaned out again and sagged under her weight. She had filled up her bowl even fuller than last time, to the point where it was nearly overflowing. Kyle, Melody, and Jim all couldn’t help but gawk at the bowl as Martha put it down in front of her. It had to be, what…two gallons!? Or even more. Even considering her gargantuan size, it was hard to conceive of how someone could eat so much food. But Martha didn’t even wait for anyone to respond to her – she promptly got to work on her second stroganoff helping, and within 15 seconds, the bowl was already a quarter empty.

“Just like smartphones,” Martha added, in between her hulking portions of food, “All the young people these days, looking down at their screens every waking moment they aren’t doing something…it’s bad for the brain! Well, not in my house. Kyla…ahem, haha WOW, Freudian slip there ahahaha – Kyle knows the rules in this house. No screen time unless he’s done something exxxxtra special to earn it. Right sweetheart?

Martha reached her free hand over and playfully tousled Kyle’s hair, her silver bracelets singing out into the air as she moved her hand quickly over his scalp. Kyle froze. There was nothing he could do to keep Martha from doing whatever she wanted, but, up until this point, things had at least seemed passably normal. Kyle had been hoping beyond hope that Martha would keep up appearances long enough for his parents to leave without knowing their true relationship, but now she was starting to let herself loose a little – the cracks in the facade were beginning to show. Martha had complete control over whether the facade would stand, or whether it would all come tumbling down.

“God, you two must’ve had quite a time with this little guy growing up, hmmm?” Martha laughed. She was still tousling Kyle’s hair, but then she abruptly stopped and extended her fingers out across his scalp, showing how easily she palmed his head. “Look how small he is now compared to me, hahaha! I can’t imagine how tiny he was when he was younger!”

Melody and Jim were watching all of this happen with a mixture of intense discomfort and something bordering on outrage, Melody especially…although Jim had abandoned his causal, aloof demeanor and was now hyper-focused on what was going on between his son and Martha. She seemed to have touched a nerve when she made fun of Kyle’s size.

“Because, see, I was 6 feet tall by the time I was 12,” Martha continued, squeezing down on Kyle’s head and flexing her fingers to show how far down they went. It was incredible – with her palm directly on the top of his head, her long, thick fingers extended all the way down past Kyle’s eyebrows, almost obscuring his eyes. She finally let him go, after giving his head one last squeeze.

“And 6’4 by the time I was a freshman in high school,” Martha kept on, staring off into space as she wistfully recounted her past. Even though he had just been mauled by her hand, an event which had decisively ended any hope he had of keeping up appearances with his parents, Kyle found himself drawn to what Martha was saying. He had never heard her speak of her past life before. Had she always been like this!? It was impossible to imagine her as anything other than what she was, simply because of the sheer force of her personality. What had she been like in school?

But even as Kyle was wondering these things, Martha turned to look down at him, her dark eyes sparkling playfully as she read him like a book.

“I can tell you’re wondering what on earth I could’ve been like back then,” she chuckled. “Well, remember that I wasn’t just a 6’4 freshman…I was a 6’4, 280-pound freshman.”

“Y-You were…280 pounds!?” Jim blurted out, in a rare moment when his inner thoughts found their way out through his mouth, “In high school!?”

“Mmmhm, as a freshman in high school,” nodded Martha slowly at him. She stretched her huge arms up, her black dress straining out audibly, like it was threatening to tear in four or five different places at once. “My BMI was 34.1 then, and I knowwww, I know, I didn’t quite have the curves I do now. But that’s one of the beauties of age! If they take care of themselves the right way, women really can grow into themselves!”

None of the other three knew how to respond to this, so Martha just kept going. She lowered her arms, downed three more quick helpings of stroganoff, before continuing:

“Now speaking of which…Jim, did I hear you and Kyle talking about sports?”

“Oh, uhm…yes. Just, you know, talkin’ about the Boomers,” he muttered, looking down into his bowl. His own discomfort now matched his wife’s. Both he and Melody both looked like they were trying to decide what the best way was to ask the question: ‘What the hell is going on here?!’

“You know,” Martha grinned, raising an eyebrow down at Kyle as she addressed Jim, “I used to be a professional athlete.”

“Oh! Uh, you did?” Normally Jim would have been engrossed in such information, but right now, it was clear that he wasn’t processing the conversation in a normal way. He was struggling to get his bearings. Kyle, though, wasn’t able to hide the intrigue he felt. Martha had dropped another crumb from her past in his path, and although he knew that she had done so deliberately, and was probably leading him somewhere to a dinner finale that wouldn’t end well, he couldn’t resist picking up the crumb and eating it. In every sense of the word, Martha obsessed him.

“You w-were…a pro athlete!?” he piped up, reddening at the high-pitched sound of his voice compared to hers.

“Ohhh yesss honey,” Martha cooed at him, reaching down and cupping his chin in her giant hand, as she pet his face slowly with her thumb. “Any guess what sport?” Kyle tried as hard as he could to keep his eyelids from fluttering, but it was impossible. At Martha’s touch, his body had been wracked by intensely pleasant chills. His cock was rock-hard. And, for the first time since he had woken up, he realized how hungry he was.

“Okay, I—I’m sorry,” Melody burst out, putting both of her hands down on the table loud enough so that both Martha and Kyle turned to look at her. “Just…what…what is going on here?”

Martha hadn’t let Kyle’s face go. She was still cupping his chin, still stroking the side of his cheek with her enormous thumb. There wasn’t anything Kyle could do – he was trapped, frozen, in suspended animation in Martha’s grip. Any sense of normalcy was impossible now, and he felt a strange kind of perverted relief wash over him. Realizing that he had zero power in this situation was enough to help him relax a little from the tension that had finally broken. But, behind this immediate relief, the same dark fears still lurked. He had no idea what Martha would do.

The silence was noticeable now. Melody’s question was pointed, and had escaped her mouth with abrupt, shaky force. It wasn’t the kind of question that could be ignored, and yet, Martha hadn’t answered it yet. She was just sitting there, with Kyle’s chin in her vice-like grip, lovingly petting his cheek with her thumb. His parents couldn’t even see his face now, since her hand was so huge that it swallowed up his features completely. Melody and Jim were sitting there, looking tenser that Kyle had ever seen them, and he saw, looking at a sideways view of Martha’s face, that she was just reveling in it. He could feel her drinking in the silence, feeding off of their confusion, their discomfort, and most of all, their fear.

“What are you talking about, Melody?” Martha finally asked, the quiet fullness of her friendly voice somehow even more terrifying.

“The…THIS!” Melody exclaimed, gesturing out in front of her. “THIS is what I’m talking about! You and…you and Kyle! Are you…are you two dating!?”

“PPPPPPAAAAAUUUUHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Martha immediately burst out into a loud, throaty laugh that shook the furniture. Kyle felt his whole body vibrating from the soundwaves of her mirth. The next moment, he felt the strong grip of her hand leave his chin and then, right after, encircle his neck, with her fingers easily going all the way around. He heard her long, sharp black nails tapping against each other by his Adam’s apple. Both Jim and Melody opened their mouths, and looked like they were about to protest, but they didn’t have time. Kyle felt his organs jostle around inside of his body as Martha lifted him up off the pile of phone books, using only one hand, and the next second, he found himself plopped down on top of her huge, meaty thighs which expanded out a ludicrous amount on either side of him. And then, her huge hand pressed sideways against his front, nearly covering his chest completely, as she pushed his body back against hers. Those mammoth megaliths of her breasts came into view on either side of him, like two fleshy centurions guarding him. Everywhere around him, her size, her flesh, her bulk surrounded him, threatening to absorb him into itself. He made one pitiful attempt to wrest free of her grip, but he may as well have been trying to move a tree. Martha was holding him fast, and she was so huge that, even in her lap, Kyle’s head barely reached the bottom of her chin. Then, pushing Kyle back until her breasts pressed over his ears, Martha spoke. Kyle only managed to hear the muffled vibrations of her words through her breasts, but they sounded in his ears as clear as ringing bells, and struck him to the core.

“No, Melody, of course we’re not dating…I’m his mother.”