Watching her soft stomach slowly grow out over her belted pants top. Feeling that soft little muffin, and poking it as it gets bigger. Enjoying the company of her person as she gets fatter and fatter, her tummy always under less control. Watching as she denies or ignores the fact that I'm controlling her weight, as it steadily increases as she enjoys the candies and chocolates that come from a "secret admirer". The longer the better. And I want to like her as a lovely person, so that, if, and when, the realization creeps over her, I can be her conscious supporter. My friend, fattened by subterfuge, but mine at whatever size achieved.