The Training of Jeff Stintum Ch. 14

They walked past the crock pot on the counter, which Jeff had failed to notice earlier that day, and as they passed it he could hear it bubbling softy. It certainly did smell good.

"Mmmmm, slow cooked pork ribs," said Sarah hungrily without turning. "I can't wait! You like ribs, right Jeff?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah ribs are great," he said, crutching past the crock pot on the counter. Where was she leading him? They had reached the corner of the kitchen next to the pantry. Sarah disappeared inside, and then emerged almost immediately with something flat and square and smooth in her hand. An electric weight scale.

She put it down on the floor in the corner and stepped back, indicating with a hand that Jeff should step on. He paused, looking from Sarah to the scale in confusion, feeling slow horror build in his chest. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"C'mon Jeff, step on," she said gently. "You say that you haven't gotten any smaller. Well then, step on that scale and show me."

He stood there stupidly for a moment. Between getting lost in Sarah's height and getting distracted by her gyrating hips and ass, not to mention her handling of his crutches, he had forgotten about the conversation they were having. Less than a minute had gone by, and yet to Jeff it had seemed like minute after torturous minute of unwilling arousal and fascination. He shook his head as he tried to steady himself. Sarah smiled and shook her head at him in turn, and wordlessly gestured once more to the scale with her hand.

Jeff knew she was right. He knew he had gotten smaller. He felt his legs move in response to her beckoning hand, and he felt the slow oncoming storm of dread darkening inside him. And yet as he approached the scale he felt something else that made him feel nauseous, but also positively alive with excitement: he wondered how much he actually weighed, how low it was actually going to be. He had weighed just over 113 pounds those weeks ago when he and Sarah first reconnected in the hospital. "113.1" had been seared into his head ever since he looked down past his skinny legs and saw that number grinning up at him. He had been shocked at the time, completely deadened by how much smaller he had gotten in his later twenties, how bony and shriveled up. He had felt like a child.

A few weeks ago, though, he had been able to rally mentally — he had been able to weave narratives of his own that explained away his present condition, that reminded him that he had a lot going for him, particularly in the dick department. Now, however, standing before the scale, and looking straight ahead into Sarah's hand (which now pointed downward with a long finger at the scale), he thought about how aggressively, how completely, she had deepthroated him and made him come again and again down her throat, how she had sucked it over and over out of him, how she had sipped on his dribbling dick like a milkshake and swallowed it all down with a growl into her belly, how she had overwhelmed him totally, and made him agree to rules and live as a captive in her house. He could no longer conceive of any other competing narration: she had become the center of his life, and she had started to dominate his every thought, no matter if she was present or not.

All of this was spinning now in Jeff's head as he faced the scale. It was all so fast, so convoluted, so heavy and laden with hidden meaning. He had no idea what was happening to him, but Sarah's presence was enough to guide his actions in the moment. She twirled her index finger around, keeping it pointed down at the scale. Her finger was rotating directly in front of his eyes and he realized that he was right up against the scale now.

"Up, up!" said Sarah quietly, but with energy. "Up you go!" Any resistance broke down immediately within him, and he stepped onto the scale. The smooth glass felt cool and nice on his left sole, and then he realized that he still had on Sarah's sock. He moved to take it off as the numbers spun in a garble on the scale.

"No, no, Jeff, don't worry about the sock," came Sarah's deep calm voice from above. "But I'll take this off you, just to make sure the measurement is right." She removed the sofa blanket from his shoulders, and Jeff suddenly felt a lightness in his shoulders, as he ascertained that the blanket had actually been weighing him down. 'It is a pretty heavy blanket,' Jeff thought to himself, as he glanced up to see Sarah balling it up and throwing it all the way across the kitchen and back on the sofa in the living room.

"Yesss!" She threw her hands up in mock celebration when the blanket landed on the sofa, and then turned her eyes eagerly to the scale. Jeff did likewise.

102.3.

Jeff stared dumbly at the number shining up to him in soft electric blue. It couldn't be possible. There was no way he could be so...and once again, almost in a kind of deja vu, his eyes traveled over his skinny legs, past his bony hips, and briefly up and down his gaunt arms. He kept looking at the number with his head bowed and shoulders slumping, taking in the crushing reality of his tininess.

After several long moments he looked up at Sarah. She was looking down on him with her hands on her hips. Her eyebrows were raised and she was looking at him with a tender kind of "I-told you-so" smile. She cocked her head to the right as she continued to stare down at him, as her tongue tented the side of her cheek, making it stretch and ripple. She let moments pass until they turned into a minute. 'Let it sink in,' she thought to herself with calm lust, locking her eyes into his as her snatch began its slow-churned frenzy. 'Pace yourself.'

She let a few more moments pass by before she spoke. "Like I said, Jeff," she said gently, pinching his shoulder lightly in between her thumb and forefinger, "you're smaller. Like, a lot smaller. I thought you had lost a few pounds...I didn't realize it was more than ten." She reached out her other hand and delicately yet firmly pinched his other shoulder with her fingers. She pivoted him off the scale so that he faced her completely. She had to crane her neck a little to see his face over her breasts. 'I could easily palm that little head,' she couldn't help but think.

"You need to eat Jeff, at least something to keep you going before your surgery. Otherwise you're just going to waste away and the surgery will be too hard on your body. You understand? You have to give your body good things as it prepares for next week."

Jeff looked up from the top of her stomach and looked up past her protruding breasts to her face. It seemed to far away to him, but he could still see the urgency in her expression. He bowed his head and nodded. She squeezed his shoulders lovingly in recognition and released him. An abrupt thought unanticipatedly barged into his head. He wondered what Sarah weighed. And just as quickly as the thought had come, he was seized with a desperate burning desire to know. He needed to know...how much...how much bigger she was than him. The reality terrified him, but again, his terror was eclipsed by a sickening, grotesque, obsessive lust and arousal at the thought of their bodies compared to each other.

"Well?" Sarah ventured with a sly smile. "What a perfect time for dinner, right?"

Jeff nodded and crutched his way after Sarah's swaying behemoth form toward the crockpot full of delicious pork ribs. He would do it. He would ask her over dinner.