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Countersplurge VI

Chapter 15 filling out

The Doloreans genuinely believed I had experienced a near fatal illness back in the States. After my return, my slimline appearance caused particular distress in the Palace. I was pressed into frequently staying the night and had a cook and a couple of helpers assigned to specially cosset me and tempt me into filling back out. They delighted in seeing me begin to respond, the loose skin tautening across swelling curves once more. In a lazy daze, I sprawled contented while they worked on me. They stoked me continuously with Palace delicacies, sluiced down with Schlum by the pitcher. I was well on the way back to regaining my quarter ton pre-boot camp shape.

One morning I awoke to find the King beside me, stroking me, saying: "you need my special attention Aunty Sam".

He had me moved into a room in his courtyard and as I lay half in, half out of a pool, he lay alongside me and said he was going to feed me by Royal Command and gestured with his arm. A great feast of traditional Dolorean fare was carried in and we commenced eating. We ate ceaselessly, mounds of shellfish, the great meat and fish stews, mountains of rice, creamed sweet potatoes mixed with Shlum, the suckling pigs, fried plantains, fish, fruit, yogurts, sticky sweets, figs, breads and pitchers of Shlum.

I would become sated and the helpers would creep in to massage my stomach, working traditional oils into my stretched skin to ease away the tightness. After a short nap we would continue. He scarcely left my side as I continued to expand. He chuckled at my willingness to amass flesh and whenever I rolled into the pool, he would carefully check my fattening arms, thighs and breasts as I swam around him. How the fat was flowing onto me! I went into a binge and I fairly blew up. I lost all sense of day and night, of what I was consuming. I craved for endless feeding and the King ordered up a great Shlum bladder to be erected over me, saying it had been in the Royal Family for generations. I just lay spread-eagled under it and let it pour into me as the helpers worked incessantly across me with the oils. It may have been hallucination, but I can distinctly remember myself swelling as I suckled.

One morning the helpers arrived with herbs and worked these in with the copious oilings I had grown used to. The aroma of the herbs somehow eased the continual hunger cravings and I relaxed at last. The King appeared and said "Sam, I think you are fully restored to health once more. Come and be my American Queen" I took his hand and kissed it and he drew me into the water with him and I could only float, a great liquid globe of fat, close to him while he stood on the bottom of the pool or swam around nuzzling me.

I have to admit I found the King's mode of copulation a turn off. For one thing it all took place in water, which caused me, still at heart an All American Gal, real problems about hygiene and gynecological risk. For another, stripped of fun and lust, the whole business seemed a bit too much like sanctified fish farming for my tastes. For pleasurably sinful fucking give me a glitzy Marriot Hotel room any day (or night).

Anyway, in due course, I was found to be pregnant. Of course I hadn't been back to the Center through the weeks of bingeing and now had to go on maternity leave. To take care of the center, Sis came out again. As always, Sis was gobsmacked at my size, "My God Sam, you're completely round! You really are living up to the family name Esfera, as round as a butterball. You're bigger than I ever thought possible."

"This isn't all me" I said from the safety of the pool, "There's two of us here, you know, I'm having to feed for both of us, and I'm now a Queen"

I had a boy, a lovely brown plump body we named Cosmo. Once my breast milk started flowing, I was moved into the inner courtyards where only the nursing Queens stay. I was overjoyed because I could once again meet up with Jelia. I hadn't seen her for over a year. I was astonished. Now she looked just like the helio balloon we had once made. She lay beached by her pool, her gargantuan breasts arranged in front of her. A plump arm lay across one breast, but the distance from her rolls of chins across to her great teats, oozing with milk, was twice the length of that arm. She looked through the valley between her breasts at me and smiled.

"I heard you were coming here Queen Sam but why did it take you so long?"

With much exertion from my helpers, I was moved over to her and stroked her on one of the great blubbery domes of her still amazingly special butt.

"You look wonderful" I whispered.

"You look like you've been doing well yourself," she said, "I couldn't stop crying when I'd heard you'd had real trouble and lost all your weight."

We lay like beached seals beside each other and wept with joy.

There was a new regime with breastmilk. It would become excruciatingly painful if my milk was not regularly suckled two or three times a day. I remembered how Arpul had first told me about this. It was true, it was paradise for the feeders and it was also paradise for the nursing Queens, provided things were regular and you weren't forgotten about. I can think of no more wonderful feeling than lying having a plumpening child working at my teats, drowsily caressing my surrounding breast as it suckles.

We definitely did compete for the children's attentions. I noticed they all fought over suckling from Jelia, she encouraged them to bounce on her and roll around on her butt and down in her thighs. I tried other strategies. The older ones chose me because they enjoyed me telling them embroidered tales about the US. It is strange but I didn't see a great deal of Cosmo. I would see him every few days, taking him and holding him to me, feeling how he nuzzled my cheek. But the helpers would spirit him away again. This way I could see how he grew. Each time he seemed visibly larger. I watched as he became a toddler and, inevitably, one of a sturdy group wrestling for the best breastmilk.

A Queen could remain a breast feeder as long she chose. Jelia delighted in the sensations of mother earth and clearly preferred a sedentary existence. She could stretch out luxuriantly, the milk flowing from her great mammaries until the end of time. By contrast, Philippa had escaped, as early she could, back to the circle of Queens who loved to sit together in the Prince Regent's Food Court, scheming and plotting.

I favoured a middle course. I could not envisage the bovine suspended animation that so suited Jelia, immobile, grounded in her lactescent abundance. On the other hand I valued the sensuous interludes of retreat and calm introspection of breast feeding. Practically, from a professional point of view, I needed to keep a foot in every door I could. So I settled into a routine of returning to the inner breast feeding courtyards in the evening and fulfilling a diary of official Royal appearances that kept me active through the day.

Taking advice, I now saw one of the Palace beautician and body sculptors regularly - in theory twice a week, but often each morning if my helpers thought it necessary. He brought his young daughter who was learning the ancient Dolorean art. They were sweeties, had wonderful hands and were completely nonjudgmental. For a fat Queen it was a hour of unadulterated sensuous swooning. Whatever excesses you exhibited since his last visit, he would take your hand, kiss it and lift you into a standing position. Then he would promenade around you with eyes half shut, touching you softly here and there, weighing your proportions. Then they would get to work, applying shlubber ointment and, kneading with those sensuous hands, gently re-arrange the contours. However much someone weighs, they always look their best after a body sculpting session - and they might be 10 pounds fatter as a bonus!

In doing this my breasts returned to more manageable proportions, although continuous official banqueting engagements had their effect on the rest of my body. My rolls of belly fat now hung below my knees. It all felt much heavier to push forward when I walked than I could ever remember before. But it was my ass that really stacked on the fat, it both dropped over my increasingly compressed thighs and calves and also climbed up my back. The shelf over my blubbery ass rode higher and higher towards my armpits. It was only a matter of time before I too would exhibit the classic Dolores fat Queen's grounded butt, requiring helpers to heave my ass cheeks about to permit movement.

Chapter 16 butt bombing

Sometime after my ass had grown to the extent that it definitely did sweep the ground behind me whenever I stood and attempted forward motion, Jello-O shuttled me across in a Glomobe taxi to a lunchtime product launch junket at Jello-O's family food processing complex. I was in my full formal Queen turnout: butt naked, except for festoons of jewelry and cowry shells draped over me. I loved these flights, relaxing in the hammock, my flesh pushed high around me. I could think of myself as swimming in a wonderful skin coloured rippling lake.

As we arrived over the Palace wall and were just about to touch down by the party gathered around the al fresco buffet, a black clad figure astride a motor cycle slid out from behind the crowd and dropped a bubble shaped polythene bag between me and the ground. I felt it flatten then burst yielding to the weight of my pressing backside as we touched down. I didn't notice the damp feeling at first, being more surprised at the rapid get away of the Fat Boy motor cycle.

Arpul came across with a band of helpers to help me up into movement and I said "Did you see that idiot Gut Buster's prank. I could have flattened him"

"What?" He exclaimed. He sniffed around the netherparts of my expanded derriere and said "Oh! Disaster! Yeah its a Splurge Bomb alright!, Disaster, you've been splurged Aunty Sam!" he wailed.

Jell-O still hovering the Glomobe said "Quick, there's only one thing we can do, she hasn't much time. Without touching the wet bits, make sure her backside overhangs the sling, I'll Whizz her to the Freeze Drier plant."

I'm pretty sure I stayed cooler than the rest, though I just flopped about uselessly. The loose masses of fat I had now accumulated prevented me from clenching or using any muscles that might help them in their frantic exertions to get my butt globes out over the edge of the hammock net.

The engine buzzed and we lifted up and around the corner of the plant heading straight towards a piece of plant glinting silver in the sun. The workers were hurriedly opening a pair of double doors and Jell-O flew up to the opening, hovered then reversed till my butt was inside, then I felt the doors close against me. The most stinging pain I have ever experienced ran through me as we hovered there. I was aware of an ear splitting shriek over the noise of the plant, realized it was me hollering, and so clamped my teeth on one of the hammock cables and bit as hard as I could, to counter the pain. I knew Jell-O was using the freeze drier to obliterate my rapidly jellifying butt. I had missed total melt down by a matter of minutes but My God it still stung!

I must have passed out because I came round looking up at anxious faces busy transferring me to a hospital trolley. Good old Jell-O had flown me along a couple of blocks to the hospital. I was aware of swinging around in the trolley cradle watching the corridor floors as we sped to the theatre. Then someone held a mask to my face and said "Take a deep breath Aunty Sam."

An hour later I lay on my front, squishing out my belly and tit flesh but .. But?

Butt nothing; oh shucks, my butt had gone! The surgeons showed me in a mirror, a flat back profile whereas lying in this position before (usually ready and waiting to be pleasured) I would have been looking at the side of a proudly spread double dome of blubber. It would have stood a couple of feet over the rest of my body, even though the fat would be slumping around me. It used to be alive, quivering gently as I breathed.

Holy Shit, I had dearly loved all of my dirty great, beautiful, friendly fat ass!

But then the rest of me is still in one piece. I had beaten the Butt Bomber!

I grinned at the surgeons. "Do you want me to turn over now so you can carve the front?"

"Just relax, you've been incredibly brave"

Jell-O and Arpul arrived and I held their hands and said "Thanks boys. A close shave! Cut to the bone."

They looked strained, weary and downcast.

"Hey, your quick thinking saved me. I owe you everything. Relax, both of you."

They took hold of a hand a piece again and both kissed at the same time.

"Tell Jelia I'm OK"

"She doesn't know anything about it"

"So who knows?"

"Those at the buffet lunch saw, but I will issue a statement saying you had a minor heart attack" said Arpul.

"What about the hospital?" I said.

"Jell-O should be able to talk to them right now" said Arpul and Jell-O nodded.

The surgeon arrived next morning and said it was most fortunate that I had been carrying so much spare flesh. Because of this they were able to isolate the effects of what is otherwise a catastrophic and total breakdown of cellular structure into an oily glutinous mass.

She said I would be in hospital a week or so, to get the wound to recover. She explained that the effect of the freeze drier was similar to a burn. They had removed the burnt flesh and had used medicinal shlubber to seal the wound. She grinned and said it would take me quite a while to build myself back to my old self.

"I the meantime a prosthesis would help you to keep in balance" she said.

"An artificial butt?"

"We make all sorts out of shlubber - you must know that, you've been around Dolores long enough"

A month later I bounced out of the hospital trailing my new prosthetic butt. Boy! Was I bionic? I'd had the works. Because the word had gone around I'd had a heart attack, the Palace instructed the hospital to fit me out with the full set of surgical implants evolved to reinforce the heart, respiratory and digestive systems of Royals who regularly require the assistance of more than six helpers. The kit also included a urinary collection system and a kind of bowel bypass leading into adjacent shlubber mountings to which hoses could be attached once a day to drain off waste products.

I christened the prosthesis Bonzo. Like a faithful hound it dogged my heels wherever I went. Actually I found I could get around faster without it, though I found balance difficult to maintain and looked like some ghoul in a horror movie. One way I was all gargantuan breasts, nipples the size of tiny baby's heads, low slung blubbery swags of belly and great pendulous upper arms, the other I was flat, like I'd backed into a ham slicer.

"You're all tomorrow and no yesterday." the prosthesis expert had said, moving around sizing me up " We'll have to give you something to look back over.

Since I could look like a giant Mack truck that had dropped its trailer off before driving home, I usually kept Bonzo hitched on the back. Bonzo sure did look real. From the fondling I kept receiving afterwards, it completely fooled those who weren't in on the secret. It also felt like the real thing, except it had a firmer bounce than the butt I had been so attached to, and I thought it quite a bit lighter.

The hospital team lined up as I left hospital, bedecked once again in my Queens' formal nudity, only now much of it draped over Bonzo. I settled onto Jell-O's Glomobe taxi's hammock mat and waved farewell at the team as we rose. Gliding over the Palace, I spotted Jelia spread alluringly out wide in her great pool. I shouted up:" Jell-O can you put me down with Jelia?"

He let me gently down into the pool and I rolled off and snuck up to tickle Jelia. She wriggled with pleasure and maneuvered round to embrace me as far as her great bulk would permit. Next I moved around behind her as she lay belly down and tucked myself in the narrowing creek between the softness of her thighs and stuck my head down seeking through the layers of fat for her pussy. I had to resurface for air and tried again, this time running my arms before me to help find a way through the curtains of suspended fat. I got to the nub of things and started working her clit with my mouth, thankful for my enhanced breathing capacity. I felt her great body gathering in response till she let go in a tumult of flesh, water and gasping exclamations which I heard intermittently as my ears popped above the surface momentarily before plunging under again since I was utterly imprisoned by her writhing haunches.

While all this was going on, I couldn't help noting that my hands had felt a pair of bionic shlubber hose terminals in her groin like I'd just had fitted. So, I asked myself, how long had she been converted to bionic mode?

In the peace of the breastfeeding court, I was pleased to discover I could still yield milk. Cosmo arrived and, to my relief, bounced around on Bonzo without commenting. I had passed my most exacting test. I took stock and decided that in the morning I would declare myself eligible once again for Royal engagements though I would have to terminate the body sculpting sessions.

Queen Philippa shot me a venomous look next day and said "You might have led a charmed life so far in Dolores, escaping from us, American spy, but I've got my hooks in you once and for all. You will do no more damage to us once I've reduced you to cooking oil"

To be continued