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Boq was awoken by an Animal nursemaid, a gorilla whose name he did not know, which meant the Governor was busy this morning. It must’ve been something important, as she’d personally bring him his meals whenever she could. Though he was loathe to admit it, Boq preferred her empty kindness to the cold, clinical treatment afforded to him by anyone else.
Boq’s nursemaid rolled him onto his side with relative ease, considering his immense weight. He was not only the heaviest he had ever been, but also the heaviest person he had ever known. At his current size, he was all but bed-bound. He could, with assistance, stand and walk short distances, though doing so was a great strain on his body. For that reason, his nursemaid simply rolled him onto his side to change his sheets, which would soak through with sweat in mere minutes. As always, he was otherwise nude.
The breakfast he was served was beyond excessive, even for someone of his immensity; the omelette alone must have contained an entire hen house’s worth of eggs, and then there were pancakes, sausages, toast, and so on. There was such a wide assortment of dishes that one would assume it had been made for a cherished lover, such that they might choose to eat only what their heart desired. Even that would’ve been sickening to him, in a country that suffered so much as Munchkinland, but that was not the purpose of this grotesquely-sized buffet. Boq knew well enough that he was expected to finish every bite of it, to gorge himself while his people starved, and, worse, he knew that he would.
The whole dreadful affair began shortly after Governor Thropp had restricted travel for Munchkins. Boq knew it was to keep him there, but his family needed the money, and he did not know where else to go. For her part, Governor Thropp had done her best to act as though nothing had changed between them. She was cordial as always, but Boq no longer had the stomach for it. He could be a dutiful servant, if that was what he had to be, but to be her friend, or more... She was immovable, though, and it was really quite sad. She had no one in the world but him, and, wicked as she was, Boq couldn’t help but indulge her every once in a while.
It was early in the afternoon when the Governor summoned him. Boq immediately left his quarters, which were spacious and well-furnished for those of a servant. Still, it did not change the fact that the closet was filled mostly with identical grey uniforms, and that the deep red armchair had been occupied so rarely that it appeared brand new.
Governor Thropp was waiting for him in the garden, accompanied by a luncheon consisting mostly of small finger sandwiches. She looked beautiful in her sharp dress, and her lips were set in a controlled smile. She beckoned him to sit, so he did, lowering himself stiffly to his place beside her. Boq waited for her to start eating, but she never did.
“Is something wrong?” he asked tentatively.
“Nothing, Boq,” she said, and it sounded like she meant it. “It’s just that this is for you.”
Boq glanced from her face to the tray of food, then looked away. He briefly wondered if Nessa had prepared the food herself, but promptly shook the idea from his mind. It was clearly some sort of nonsense attempt to win his heart through his stomach, and Boq wanted no part of it. Nessarose smiled at him so sweetly, though, and he felt, in that moment, that there would be no act more wicked than hurting this girl’s feelings. The thought was fleeting, but by the time it passed he had already picked up one of the sandwiches and taken a bite. Nessa’s smile grew a bit wider. She began to talk about her day, and Boq had nothing much to add. Whenever she gave him an expectant look, he just filled his mouth again. He half-hoped she’d tire of his standoffishness, but she seemed thoroughly pleased with their outing. After he’d polished off the food, she happily dismissed him.
From then on, Nessa made sure Boq finished his meals, and even encouraged him to have seconds and thirds. It made him really very uncomfortable, so it was only a matter of time before he stood his ground. They were eating dinner together when it happened, and Boq had already had more than enough.
“There’s plenty more,” said the Governor, used to Boq’s weakness. How could she know he was tired of this, that it disgusted him to eat so much when he knew the people of Munchkinland were struggling? All he ever did was oblige her.
“I don’t think I should,” he said, his voice coming much quieter and meeker than he expected. “I’m full, Nessa.” He hoped to garner sympathy by calling her that, but the sound of her name in his mouth seemed only to embolden her.
“Come on,” she purred. “I’ve seen you eat more than that.”
His face warmed. “Yes, I know, but...” He struggled for an excuse that would not upset her. “I think it’s been making me put on weight.” It was the truth, at least, but the Governor’s expression darkened.
“Who told you that?”
“No one, Madam Governor, but—”
“Nessarose,” she corrected sharply. “You’re excused, Boq. Have a good night.”
Boq fidgeted for a moment before leaving the table and heading to his room. As he undressed, he wondered why the mention of his weight had upset the Governor so much. Surely, she knew the effect her actions were having on him. Why would she push so much food on him only to get mad that he was getting fat? He pinched his stomach, gripping the small layer of padding that had formed there. Maybe, if he got fat enough, Nessa wouldn’t want him at all anymore. Maybe she’d even let him go. He could almost curse himself for daring to dream of such a thing.
The next morning, Boq found that his door was locked. He yelled and slammed his fists against the wood, but no one came. The thought of being confined to an even smaller space filled his eyes with tears. Eventually, he resorted to calling for Nessa, hoping she’d come if he asked for her. He’d yelled his voice raw by the time he thought to try the window. When he pulled back the curtains, he saw the bars that had been bolted on from the outside. Realizing he had no hope of escape, Boq sat on the floor and cried. He couldn’t believe the Governor would go this far. She was wicked, sure, but she loved him, didn’t she? Boq was so full of anger and hurt that he could do nothing but cry. Eventually, he crawled into his bed and cried himself to sleep.
No one came for Boq the next morning, either. On the third day, he didn’t even bother getting dressed. He had no idea how long the Governor was going to keep him there, but it was obvious he had upset her badly. It had been so long since he’d eaten that he no longer had the energy to scream or cry. Instead, he laid listlessly in bed, thinking about the Ozdust. Where would he be now if he hadn’t lied to her, if he hadn’t invited her in the first place, if he’d never met Glinda at all?
Boq must’ve fallen asleep, but for how long, he wasn’t sure. It was dark outside when he awoke to the sound of a key turning. He sat up in bed just in time to see the Governor wheel into the room. She had with her a small basket, and the smell of fresh bread instantly flooded his nose. Though his mouth watered, he did not dare to act without instruction. Governor Thropp didn’t say a word until she was right at the edge of his bed.
“Are you hungry, Boq?” Her voice and expression were both unreadable.
“Yes, Madam Governor.” Boq could feel the tears streaming down his face already. “Yes, Nessa. I’m hungry.”
Nessarose smiled weakly and reached into the basket. She tore off a small piece of bread and held it to Boq’s lips. He was so hungry that he instantly leaned forward to eat it straight from her hand. He began to sob, thinking of how weak and broken he must’ve seemed. She fed him more bread, brushing his lips tenderly with every bite. Soon, the bread was gone, and Boq was on the floor, weeping into Nessarose’s knees. She stroked his hair gently and said nothing at all.
After that, the Governor hand-fed him every meal. Boq allowed it out of fear. She still asked him if he wanted more, even though he always replied with a meek “yes, please.” He’d say it no matter how many times she asked, until he was bloated and lethargic, until she had to tip his head back and massage his throat with her fingertips to make him swallow. Perhaps it would have driven him mad, if she hadn’t reduced his other duties so drastically. She mostly left him alone outside of mealtimes now, which gave him ample time to convince himself that everything was perfectly fine. It was fine that he wasn’t allowed to do something as simple as feeding himself, it was fine that his uniform had been let out twice now, and it was fine that the bars never left his window. Governor Thropp seemed very pleased with him, and he was still being payed enough to support his family, and that was good. He hadn’t mentioned this bizarre abuse in his letters to them. Boq figured there was no good reason to let his parents know their son had become his boss’s overfed house pet, and, even if he did, he doubted they would do anything to help him. The Governor was the highest authority in the land, and it was better for everyone to simply do what she wanted.
One day, Boq woke up and found that his uniform had once again become far too small for him. He had not finished dressing by the time Nessa came to see why he was not at breakfast. When she stopped speaking to stare at the swollen gut that was preventing the clasp on his pants from closing, Boq once again burst into angry tears.
“I know I’m getting too fat,” he blurted. “There’s nothing I can do about it if you’re going to keep feeding me like this!”
Governor Thropp’s eyebrows knit together briefly, perhaps with guilt. “You’re not too fat, Boq,” she said carefully, wheeling herself to his side. “You’ve been enjoying your food. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Boq sniffled, not wanting her comfort but so desperately in need of it. “It’s too much, Nessa,” he said. “I don’t— I’m not—” He flinched as Nessa gently took hold of his hand.
“It’s alright,” she said. “If you’re self-conscious, you can take your meals in your room.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but she had already gone to fetch his breakfast.
Boq left his room less and less as time went on. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want to be seen, but also that Nessa was summoning him less. When she wanted to see him, she would visit him in his quarters. It was better that way, as his uniform was always a few sizes too small these days. Still, the Governor insisted he wear it, that it made him look handsome. Boq hadn’t thought of himself as handsome since that day at the train station. He must have been more than twice the size he was then. He was properly fat, now, and so used to overeating that he always felt sort of hungry, even when he was stuffed.
Nessarose lay beside him in bed, pressing another slice of cake into his mouth, his third dessert that day. Boq was already very full, but it was good cake, and having more couldn’t possibly make him any more miserable than he already was. Nessa rubbed languid circles into his stuffed belly while she fed him, and Boq struggled to find any modicum of pleasure in it.
“I hope you’re enjoying this, Boq,” said Nessa. “I so love spending time with you.”
Boq cringed. She said things like this to him often, and he’d usually just nod and mutter a weak agreement. He had split the seam on his night shirt just that morning, though, and he was really not in the mood for her games.
“I feel terrible, Nessa,” he said, looking away. “I mean, look at how fat I’m getting.” He gestured at his massive belly, taut with food at the top, plush with fat at the bottom. “You can’t honestly want me to be like this, right?”
The Governor froze, and Boq was very afraid for a moment. Her mouth opened, and closed, and then opened again. “I don’t— I just want you to be happy,” she said, eyes downcast. “I can give this to you, Boq. I can take care of you.” He stiffly allowed her to caress his cheek.
“I don’t want this, Nessa,” he ventured, “and I don’t think you want it, either.”
“You don’t understand,” said Nessa as her eyes began to well with tears. “I don’t have anyone else. I need you.”
“Then why are you doing this to me?” Boq breathed, and he realized they were both crying now. “How can you need me like this? I don’t understand.”
Nessa shook her head, looking miserable, but she took a deep breath and steeled her expression. Then, she slid silently back into her chair and left Boq alone with the remainder of the cake. He was momentarily agape, but he shook himself out of it and began furiously shovelling handfuls of cake into his mouth. What else was there to do? Its sweetness coated his throat, reminding him of her, but he just couldn’t stop himself. If this was what he was, then so be it.
Nessarose had never felt more alone in all her life. She loved Boq, loved him to death, and she was torturing him. He seemed so sullen these days, so listless. She had to keep him, though. She had to. That’s why she’d started feeding him, to make him happy, though things had quickly turned sinister. It was clear Boq didn’t enjoy stuffing himself, but Nessa noticed how easily he was putting on weight. It was so easy to think about how he might want to stay with her if she were his only option, if he thought he was too big for anyone else to want. And, if he didn’t? Well, he couldn’t leave her if he ate himself to immobility, and he was well on his way there by now. The weight made Boq so unhappy, but Nessa reasoned that he was determined to be unhappy no matter what size he was.
Just then, one of the servants returned from Boq’s room, carrying the emptied tray of cake. He had finished every bite. Nessarose hardened her resolve. It didn’t matter how much he cried and complained. He liked the cake, he’d finished it all, and that meant her plan was working. She just needed to keep trying, to keep feeding him. He was already hers in every way that mattered, anyway.
And so, that was how Boq had arrived in this predicament. A silent otter scrubbed roughly between the folds of his chest while he stuffed his face with pastries and tried not to think. Nessa gave him food, and shelter, and sent his salary to his family. He was sure no one else in Oz would pay him to sit on his ass and eat himself fatter and fatter with each passing day. There was no point in even thinking about resisting anymore, as Boq was certain his body was well and truly ruined beyond repair. Adipose had gathered and distorted him wherever it could, even in his face. His breath came heavily, his joints ached, and he could swear his vision was starting to go, too. Nessarose could no longer coerce him into wearing his uniform, for he was so enormous that having one made at the proper size would have been a tremendous waste of material. Besides, he was not really a servant anymore at all. He did nothing but stuff himself all day while others handled his basic hygiene, though there was only so much that could be done about that when he was so large. Boq couldn’t help but be a little grateful that Nessa bothered with such a task at all. The spread of pastries was finished long before his sponge bath was.
He’d had four more meals before Nessarose came to visit him, and the sun had just barely begun to set. She smiled as she wheeled to the edge of his bed, where she could rest a hand on his pillowy flank without even having to lean forward. She’d brought muffins with her, which Boq placidly accepted as she held one to his lips.
“How are you, Boq?” She brushed the hair out of his face where sweat had made it stick to his skin. Boq hiccuped and grunted. He was so full, so hungry, he just wanted her to stuff him and get it over with.
“I’m fine, Nessa,” he panted between bites. That was what this was, right? Fine. He didn’t know why either of them were still playing this game. “Can you feed me faster, please? I’m starving.” He reached to grab a muffin himself, but Nessa stopped his hand as soon as it moved.
“Elphaba was here today,” she said.
Boq’s eyes widened slightly. “What?”
“She just left, actually,” Nessa giggled. “I want to show you something. Come to the edge of the bed.”
Boq sighed, and began the laborious act of shifting himself. He needed to build a significant amount of momentum just to turn so his swollen feet were touching the floor. Nessa’s knees brushed against his belly as she reached forward to take both of his hands. Boq didn’t know what she was doing, but suddenly she was up out of her chair, and he was out of bed, and the two of them were floating several feet off the ground. Terror suddenly shot through him, as he knew he’d surely break something if he fell.
“It’s okay,” said Nessa, and he saw that she was smiling. “Elphaba did this for me. To make me happy. To make us happy.”
Boq’s crumb-covered mouth was agape, and he realized this was the first time he’d been upright without his knees screaming in agony in a very long time. Nessa took a weightless step backwards, which Boq found himself following. They spun several times in the air, in a tense, silent dance. It had been so long since they’d danced.
It was over almost as quickly as it had started. Nessarose floated back into her chair, and only released his hands after he was heavily seated on the edge of the bed once again. She brushed the tears from his cheeks, still smiling.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” She leaned forward to kiss him, and he allowed it.
“I suppose it is,” he mumbled, reaching for another muffin. Again, Nessa stopped him.
“I love you, Boq,” she said, staring at him intensely. “You’ve only gotten lovelier and lovelier since you came back to me.” Boq didn’t know how she could say such a thing with a straight face. They could both see that he was a fat, bloated mess, but Nessa looked at him like he was the most beautiful thing in all of Oz. No one else had ever looked at him that way, and he was sure now that no one else ever would.
“Thank you, Nessa,” he said, and he had no idea if he meant it.