Weight Room Title Bar

The Fat Farm Incident
By Sasha Steele

Richard looked over what Ms. Williams called the Pod Room: it was expansive; there must have been two hundred of them in there all wired into the computer system and suspended on a network of I-beams. "This is where the girls 'SLEEP' it off so to speak," she said rather coyly. He couldn't see inside the pods but imagined the naked females of various sizes contained within, electrodes attached to all parts of their bodies, intravenous lines, breathing tubes.

"They're suspended like that for the period of their internship and then gently awaked in the recovery room over here," Williams continued, moving the tour along. "How long are they asleep?" Richard asked just as her pager buzzed. "Sorry, won't be a moment," Williams said hurrying away. Richard looked around the facility: it was squeaky clean and highly secure. He would finish this tour, nose around a bit, interview a few people and write up the report.

He opened the door to the 'recovery room.' One pod, the egg-like cover removed and stirring within was a beautiful woman coming out of her induced coma-like state. Her long kinky blond hair was in a loose ponytail, her shapely naked body arching and stretching on the super soft white bed. The readout display gave her name as Savenroy, Sara T., twenty-six years of age, height five foot six, current weight one hundred seventy-five pounds.

"You shouldn't be in here," Ms Williams said upon returning, "not looking at this one anyway. "I take it that she is Senator Savenroy's daughter then," Richard asked, already knowing the answer. It was the Senator who had the Bureau send him here in the first place after the bomb threat. "We see Sara here every year, regular as clock work," Williams offered as she ushered Richard out of the recovery room. "And how long do her visits last?" he asked. "In Sara's case it's three weeks, the maximum treatment time," she told him.

Then Williams went on to explain how their chemically induced hyper metabolic rate and electronically stimulated muscular activity sped up weight loss while measured nutrient intake was held to a bare minimum and injected hormones worked to rejuvenate skin tissues. "Point is that it works; it's fast and there's no will power involved. But with the extreme nature of treatment, there are dangers. Richard raised an eyebrow. "What dangers?" he asked. "The girls are completely in our control; that's why as you can see security is so tight around here. And, too, the treatments themselves are hard on the body's systems, hence the three week maximum treatment time and one year waiting period required."

"You said that Ms. Savenroy took the maximum treatment. Why was that?" Richard asked. "It depends on how much weight they need to lose; in her case, it was four hundred pounds. Sara's svelte body flashed across Richards mind, he did the quick math. "You mean to tell me that three weeks ago she weighed five hundred and seventy-five pounds!" he said incredulously. "I told you it works very fast; we put them to sleep at night and wake them in the morning like it's an overnight stay; that's why it's so expensive." And that is why all the threats, he thought; this place was filled with the cream of Washington's high society.

While she was still asleep, a physiotherapist had worked all of Sara's muscles. She awoke feeling slim, fit and hungry as hell. A masseur worked fine oils into her tight rounded backside as she gorged on the tray of sweets provided. Manicure, pedicure, makeup and hair done, Sara examined her new body in the mirror before dressing. Her large breasts were firm and perfectly shaped; her tummy was small compared to the massive gut she had checked in with. She put on a white lacy bra and pulled shiny white panties over her womanly hips and onto her little belly, moving her hands against the smooth fabric. Sara missed her fat but knew that it would soon return. "All the fun is in getting there," she told herself.

The cafeteria was large, the decor better than some of the higher class of restaurants in Washington. Top chefs worked here keeping the smorg well stocked with delicious food and lots of it. Richard sampled a few dishes and sat down going over his notes. He saw Sara enter and watched as she devoured plate after plate of food returning to the display again and again as if she were trying to eat every dish that was offered. Sara was wearing gray skirt with patterned white flowers on it, a white blouse, beige nylon stockings and black four-inch heels. Her beautiful face was sexily made up with dark mascara and red lipstick.

Richard found Sara very attractive and wondered what she looked like weighing five hundred and seventy-five pounds. The way she was eating he figured that he would soon find out. "Ms. Savenroy, agent Blair" he said flashing his ID. "May I speak with you a moment?" Not missing a fork full Sara gestured for him to take a seat. "Let me see, agent Blair" she said as she ate. "Daddy sent you over to make sure that his baby was alright with the bomb treats and all. Richard noticed the sparkle in her beautiful green eyes and the gusto with which she attacked her plate.

He asked her a few questions about the Fat Farm and about herself. She too found him attractive - there was a spark there; they both felt it. Knowing his place, it wasn't until over two months had passed before Richard again saw Sara. He was working security at a gala event attended by the most refined of Washington society. Sara looked stunning in a tight fitting black dress with a splash of silver down the front. Extreme at both ends, the sleeveless dress was low cut and very short. Her huge boobs busting out, Sara had to constantly fix its thin straps over those of her black bra. The lace tops of her stockings showed when she sat, and upon her feet she wore a pair of shiny black five-inch pumps.

Sara knew that she was sexy and attractive. Richard saw that she was still eating as if there were no tomorrow and supposed that with the Fat Farm, there really wasn't any need for worry by these very rich society women as far as their eating habits were concerned. Looking around the room he noticed that they were all at various stages of overweight, some extremely large and no doubt waiting to be booked in for a stay at the Fat Farm.

Sara, too, Richard noted was heavier than when he had first met her. Her belly was quit round and stood out firm in front of her. Sara's hips were wide, her legs thick and heavy and her big rear end jutted side to side as she waddled around the room socializing. Richard didn't know it, but she had gained eighty-five pounds and now weighed two hundred and seventy. It was her who approached him. "Agent Blair of the FBI," she teased, "everything is under control, I trust. They talked but a short while - after all, he was working. Then later she approached him again and asked if he would escort her home when his shift was up.

That was the start of their relationship. After sex, he sat on the edge of Sara's bed, feeding her small fancy sandwiches, hundreds of them while she rubbed her belly and moaned with pleasure. The Senator got used to his baby dating someone from the Bureau though he felt she could do better. Sara and Richard became an item around Washington as they frequented the dinner parties and various restaurants. Almost a year had passed since they had first laid eyes upon one another at the Fat Farm, and Sara had gained a substantial amount of weight. Just a few pounds below six hundred now, she was continuously stuffing herself to reach that mark before starting her treatment.

Then it happened: a bomb destroyed part of the Fat Farm facility. Luckily, no one was injured as it went off in the underground parking garage, but the mainframe was severely damaged and with the investigation they were forced to temporarily close down.

Richard sat in the restaurant, watching as Sara worked on her third extra large helping of Lasagna. She wore an expensive beaded white dress, it too low-cut and short. She liked to dress that way in order to show off her huge shapely body. The front of it stretched out below her huge bosom around the protruding bloated belly sitting on her massive beige stocking covered legs. Her immense rear spread out on the soft padded bench made her appear pyramid shaped. She had on white four-inch high heels and white pearl accessories. Her kinky curled long blond hair hung loose half way down her fat broad back. Sara looked every bit the corpulent self-indulgent rich pampered woman that she was, and Richard loved her.

They were joined by Jane, another sophisticated high society beauty who weighed five hundred and fifty pounds, and her husband. She took one look at the Lasagna that Sara was eating and ordered the same. It was quickly brought to the table along with another serving for Sara. After the usual cat talk about how much so and so weighed now, Jane said, "Oh, didn't you hear? Fat Farm just announced that it would be six months before they reopen.

"Six months," Sara gasped, "shit, I'll weigh nine hundred pounds by then. Of course Richard would like it if they never re-open. With a distant look in her eyes Sara repeated "six months. Then, hoisting her glass of wine in the air, she said, "Here's to nine hundred pounds!" and dug into her plate of Lasagna as if were the first one she had eaten.