-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I.30 May 2003

My pleasure! I understand your fear about not wanting to become top heavy. Once I went on an all-fat diet for four years. By the end I weighed over 30 stones, and I was literally extremely obese. I had consumed so much butter that my sweat glands no longer produced sweat, but rather an oily secretion whose repulsive stench was rivalled only by its lubricating property. (One of my more tolerable butlers suggested bottling it and selling it as an Curative Ointment. The cheek! I sent him to Peru in a complimentary hamper).

You may no doubt imagine what happened. During the diet I had remained indoors and, naturally, nude, but the ending of my diet coincided with an Exhibition of Mr. Chetwoad's Horrifying Machine in the Crystal Palace, which I was rather eager to attend. Slipping into a tuxedo proved challenging, but the cloth slid so beautifully and easily against my buttered skin that once I had it on, I was in a constant state of sensory arousal. Indeed, I rather feared that I would suddenly begin to writhe on the floor in pleasure during the Exhibition, so I took the precaution of branding my eye with a red-hot spatula and hoping this would balance out the other stimulus; the result was... O Jesu what have I done?