A Fat Positive Superheroine Serial
By The Hero
Chapter SixteenSusan spent most the morning linking the Personal Humidity Monitor to the De-Hydration program she'd designed for her quarters as well as the Danger Room. She was just about to try it out, when Dee called, asking her to lunch at the mall. Saying she'd pick her up in an hour, Susan threw on one of her midriff T-shirt and tight jeans combos and left, making sure to save her work first. When she picked up Dee, Dee told her they were meeting Jacques for lunch.
The Modeling Deal
When they found Jacques in the food court, they discovered Matt was with him. Matt welcomed them, asking them to sit and eat with them, that he and Jacques had arranged a possible business deal if Susan should like to hear about it when they finish eating. During lunch, Susan noticed how attentive Jacques seemed to Dee's needs, how much he enjoyed watching her eat, always encouraging her to have seconds.
After they had finished eating, Matt and Jacques told her what they had to offer. After Susan had saved the Golden Mall, they had called the Big Beautiful Wearhouse's corporate headquarters in Manhattan, telling them about her. They wanted her to be a Spokesmodel! The HQ said they wanted a strong, larger woman to help sell their clothing line.
"There's only one catch," claimed Jacques.
"Well, they require you fit their clothes as they are available for the public. And the sizes start at a Size 30."
"I'm only a Size 16 now, at least on my top half. And a Size 20 on the bottom! I'd have to gain at least 75 pounds to get to that size!"
"Susan," Dee interrupted. "You've put on about 30 pounds already in the last few months, without trying. You're going to gain it anyway!"
"We have taken that into account," Matt explained. "They said that since you're a little underweight for the job, they are willing to pay you $10,000 per pound you gain up to the weight they need you to be. The celebrity contract itself pays 2.5 million per year, provided you maintain the minimum size requirement. What do you think?"
"Susan, think about it!" Dee exclaimed. "If you gain 50 pounds, it's a HALF A MILLION DOLLARS! If it's 100 pounds, you'll be a millionaire!"
Susan thought about it a moment.
"Well, I'm not guaranteeing anything. If I decide to back out, I can, right?"
"Shouldn't be a problem, as far as I know. But they need you to go to their offices for an official weigh-in and measuring. The sooner the better."
After lunch, Dee and Susan went downtown to the Corporate Offices of the Big Beautiful Wearhouse, which turned out to be could Big Beautiful World. Dee stayed in the deli across the street, claiming she didn't want them to see her and end up signing her instead. Susan weighed in at 200 pounds, the executives couldn't understand why she weighed 200 when she looked about 20 pounds lighter. (My only conclusion was my bone structure had thickened to handle extra weight, thus the extra weight.) Measuring her, they determined her measurements to be 39.5-36.5-45. Considering her weight differed from what her measurements were, they said rather than set a weight amount they want her to achieve a set size minimum, that they'd pay her by the pound for whatever gain was needed.
She also discovered that the company was into more than just super-sized clothing, they also owned an island resort off the coast of England, as well as their own magazine dedicated to the glorification of fat people and the issues they face. They also had their own travel bureau that handled travel to a small island nation. Susan was getting overwhelmed with it all, but asked if she could back out of the contract should she change her mind. They said yes, so she signed a one-year deal, where she would be a sponsor for all of the company's holdings for a minimum of 5 years, at 5 million dollars per year! Unfortunately she didn't read the fine print. They explained that they would start on a wardrobe for her to wear, as what she had on didn't fit the image she deserved. They also told her she'd better start working on her figure, as they planned to get the proper campaign together within three months, and they wanted her to be ready by then. They wanted her to report in bi-weekly to do photo updates of her progress.
When she got out of the office and across to pick up Dee, she explained what the deal was. Dee was thrilled.
"I did some calculations while you were in there, to get to a Size 30, you would need to gain around 100 pounds, that's a MILLION DOLLARS! And they want that as a Minimum Size, so if you hedge your bets and let yourself get up to 350 or even 400, like the Doctor told you to, that's even more money! And after 5 years, you'll be rich, 25 Million Dollars!"
"Yeah, but I don't know…"
"Trust me! Have I ever steered you wrong yet?"
"Famous last words…"
On the way back from the office, they stopped by Jacques's store so Dee could tell him the news. And so they could pick up Susan's outfit for that night. It was already 3 p.m., so Dee suggested that Susan just stay at her place 'til 7 when they were supposed to be picked up, rather than drive an hour to and from. Susan said she needed to give an experiment she was working on a dry run first, that she'd pick up a few things and meet her at her place around 6, since if the night ran long she'd probably end up at Dee's for the night anyway. Dropping her off, she drove back to the base.
Once there, she tried out the new program, it worked almost perfectly, over-dehydrating her by only 5%, which came back when turned off, which only made her slightly light-headed and hungry. The effects passed as she took a shower, eating a candy bar as she packed. (Just have to fine-tune it a bit, and see about transistorizing it so it's portable.) About 5 she left to go back to Dee's…
Chapter SeventeenWhen Susan arrived at Dee's place above the bakery, Dee brought out a bag with Susan's new outfit. Dee wanted to give her a makeover to suit the occasion. Having Susan close her eyes and relax so she could surprise her, the first thing to be worked on was her hair. Dee fixed it so that her hair was poofed out into a bushy lion's mane, framing her rounded face, Dee using half a can of hair spray to keep it in place. While that was setting, Dee did Susan's toe and fingernails, painting them a dark shade of metallic blue. Lipstick and eye shadow of the same hue completed the image Dee was creating. Susan opened her eyes and checked herself out in Dee's dresser mirror.
The Big Date
"What the? Dee! I can't believe you did this? He's gonna think I'm making fun of him!"
"Calm down. He won't be insulted, besides, where we're going after dinner, you'll fit right in."
Just then the buzzer rang downstairs.
"That's them, now take this and go get changed, I'll make my way down to let them in. And stop worrying!"
Susan went into the bedroom to change, wondering what Dee and Jacques were up to. Opening the bag, she dumped the contents out onto the bed.
After a moment, Dee stepped into the bedroom, smilingly asking if there was a problem as she got her own outfit out of the closet.
"I can't wear this outfit! I'm going to look like a FAT HOOKER!"
"You want to make a good first impression don't you? Trust me!"
Susan went to put on the outfit, cursing Dee as she did so. The first thing to put on were the metallic blue fishnet stockings that stopped mid-thigh, leaving the top half of her shapely thighs to barely spill out over the edge. Next on went a metallic blue spandex micro-skirt, with silver vinyl trim. At first, Susan refused to wear the blue thong Dee bought, but Dee told her the skirt was designed to show off the generous curve of her ass, that the only way that Susan could pull it off was to wear the thong. The skirt showed off her assets all right; Susan had to keep pulling it down in back to keep it from riding up to expose the bottom of her butt cheeks. The matching push-up bra made her 39.5D's look to be pushing the high end of DD. A blue bolero jacket designed to emphasize her bust completed her ensemble.
"Well, how do I look?" Susan asked, embarrassed.
"Like a fat hooker. Kidding! Kidding! Seriously though, it still needs something. Oh, I know! I almost forgot! Take off your top and skirt."
Dee then produced a jar of cold cream.
"This is an herbal cream I picked up from GNC. Rub it into your breasts, belly, neck, arms, and face. Here, let me help get your back."
After doing so, Dee took a bottle of spray out of her purse, spritzing blue glitter on to the spots needed.
"There, now give the cream 5 minutes to dry, then get dressed. I'll go stall the guys. And don't worry about your looks, Jacques tells me this guy prefers his women even fatter than HE does! By the way, I forgot to get shoes, so grab my silver heels. The purse I picked out is on the bed, just put your Driver's License in there, it already has everything else you'll need tonight."
Susan opened the clutch purse to find only 2 things; a mini-toothbrush with sample sized toothpaste, and a condom! (Dee can be SO crude!) She had just enough room to add her license, her emergency $20, and her new pills. Then she put on the shoes, the 6" stiletto heels making her walk unsteadily such that she needed to sway her rump back and forth to keep her balance, forcing her skirt to uncontrollably ride up to expose the bottoms of her cheeks. (Dee's a dead woman!) She then heard Dee calling for her to come out.
Susan came into the living room to see the jaws drop on the guys. Jacques made introductions.
"Susan Whitmore, meet Mike Sprat. Jack meet Susan."
Sure enough, to no surprise of Susan's, it was Azure Streak.
"Jack? I thought your name was Mike."
"It is," said Mike, glaring at Jacques. "I got the nickname during High School. Jacques and I hung out with the heavier-set crowd, and rumors got around that whoever I was with at the time would end up the new Mrs. Sprat. It grew from there."
"Well Mike, y'know, Susan's doctor wants her to double her weight to stabilize her powers, so maybe it's destiny that you two go out."
(Dee and Susan together): "JACQUES!!!"
"That's okay, Susan, after seeing you tonight I'm sure you'll stay beautiful no matter what size you end up."
Susan couldn't help the blush. "Thank you."
"Shouldn't we get going?" Dee interrupted. "Us growing girls need food!"
Together, the four of them slowly made their way downstairs to Jacques's minivan, and left for the restaurant.
On the way there, Susan and Mike sat in the backseat.
"Sorry about this. It wasn't my idea to dress this cheap."
"Hey, don't worry about it. It's a side of you I never get to see; you look really sexy."
"I do?" Susan asked, subconsciously positioning herself to give him the maximum view of her.
"Heck, I doubt anyone even notices my looks tonight! Now relax, I didn't know I was going out with you, there are a billion heavyset girls out there, but none who have the presence you exude tonight. Let's just enjoy ourselves, and if we click, great. If not, we'll forget the whole thing. Deal?"
Just then, they pulled into the driveway to the restaurant, Lady Fatima's.
A plump hostess, roughly between Dee and Susan's size, seated them. She told them that Friday was Ladies Night, that for a low price of ten dollars per person, Dee and Susan could have all they could eat. Dee quickly piped in they would go for it before Susan could say anything. They all gave their orders, and waited while the waitress got their drinks. Susan then took out her pills.
"What are those, Susan?" Mike asked.
"They're pills the doctor gave me. He says they're supposed to act as an appetite stimulant, while slowing down my metabolism to make me gain the weight I need faster. I'm debating taking my first one."
"Well, y'know, if you're going to take an appetite stimulant, the time to do it is at an all-you-can-eat place!" Dee chimed in.
"It's your choice, Susan," Mike reminded her.
"Well, here goes. But just to warn you, I might get a little light-headed, so keep the food coming 'til it subsides."
Susan chewed up the pill and swallowed it just as the soup arrived.
Susan ate slowly at first, savoring the flavor of the pizza lover's soup, the thick rich tomato base and little chunks of vegetables and pepperoni, along with the cheese sauce. (The drug must have sharpened my taste buds; I can taste every little thing in here!) Her appetite was increasing by the time the salad came, with its thick blue cheese dressing.
Eating quickly, she polished it off as the main course arrived. It was Chicken Parmesan, with extra mozzarella cheese and a side of spaghetti. Susan dove right in, heedlessly slurping spaghetti and getting sauce dribbling down her chin. The waitress, sensing Susan's sudden increase in appetite, brought over a big piece of Lasagna for her. She had no need to ask if Susan wanted some, as her fork was starting into it before she set it down. The lasagna was six inches high and covered her plate, smothered in extra sauce and cheeses. "That'll hold her for a few minutes," the waitress thought, as she hurried to the kitchen to start the cooks working double-time.
And so it went. Each time that Susan would finish her plate, something new would be put in front of her. Plate-sized pizzas with extra toppings, fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, seconds of lasagna. None of this was lost on her companions as they watched her gorge, Dee nodding with approval, and Mike and Jacques speechless with arousal. Even the waitress was checking in on them more often, her eyes misting over with her own arousal and lust, realizing how much potential Susan had for eating and getting fatter, something she (the waitress) had wanted to do but never had the courage to try.
The effects of her dining had their own effects on Susan's body as well. The effects of the pill, in reaction to the herbal cream Susan wore, caused her breasts to grow at least another cup size, stretching the material of the push-up bra to it's limit, the slight increase in the back and shoulder fat causing her shoulder straps to dig in. Her belly had benefited as well, growing slightly to form a larger roll that folded over the waistband of her skirt when she sat. Her arms filled out slightly more the undersides of her upper arms starting to dimple, even her hands that she'd used to apply the lotion softened slightly.
Her face grew pudgier, with just a hint of a double chin starting to form. Overall the new poundage served to even out her figure properly. Susan didn't even notice as she was focused on her meal. Susan's appetite waned as the waitress was bringing out her dessert, an Ice Cream dish similar to Randi's special recipe, save that a quarter of a double fudge, seven layer, double rich cake was included on the side.
"Ugh, I feel bloated. I can't eat all that!"
"Oh, please. The chef made it up just for you. He'll be really disappointed if you don't eat it." The waitress exclaimed. "I would be, too," she thought.
"C'mon Susan, you can do it! Don't stop now!" Dee encouraged.
"Look," Mike interrupted her. "It's her choice. Let her decide."
Susan looked at Mike and remembered his lustful look while she was gormandizing.
"OK, but I may need carried out."
Susan then slowly worked her way through it, stopping about halfway through. Mike offered to help feed her, and she agreed. She leaned back to make room while he slowly shoveled spoonfuls to her, making each bite a truly orgasmic experience. Susan felt her desire building for the man she had lived close to for so long without truly knowing. When she was done, Mike helped her from the table, Susan unsteady on her feet for her bloated condition. The guys paid the tab, the waitress secretly slipping Susan her phone number, and went outside to the van.
As they pulled out of the parking lot to drive to their next stop, Susan finally discovered how much larger she'd suddenly become.
"I hope I didn't make a pig of myself at dinner, things are still kind of fuzzy."
"Don't concern yourself. You were fine; I bet that medication was stronger than you expected, though."
"You got that right. I don't know if I want to take another one."
"Maybe it gets easier as you continue to take them. Don't worry about looking like a pig, you were the most content I've ever seen you. Normally you seem so neurotic, whether about your weight, your abilities, etceteras. The happiest I've ever seen you is when you're eating."
"Yeah, I guess so. But I don't know if I want to keep gaining, after I get to the minimum size for my spokes-modeling contract, that is."
"If you think about it, until your recent metagene abnormality, as you've gotten heavier you have gained more control over your abilities. Maybe if you let yourself gain until you plateau, you'll get even more powerful. Speaking of which, do you think you might want to work out with me in the Danger Room tomorrow? Maybe we can work on something to make you more mobile when you use your powers."
"Sure, we can work on that. But let's see how this date works out first."
Just then, they pulled into the parking lot of a dance club called "The Swan Club."
"Well, here we are. The Swan Club."
"Uh, Jacques, what kind of place is this?" Susan asked.
"It's one of those retro '80's dance clubs."
"I don't know if we should be here…"
"Don't worry! This place especially caters to the type of people society tries to disregard. You remember the Ugly Duckling story. That's why they call it the Swan Club. No offense, intended, of course. Let's go on in and check it out."
"OK, I'm game, as long as we're here."
They got to the entrance of the club, only to find a giant of a creature blocking their way. It was green and reptilian, standing nine feet tall, with 4 arms and extremely muscular.
"What you want here?!" he snarled at Susan and Jacques. "You not belong here. You normal!"
"Easy there, big guy," Mike calmly assured him. "She's with me. She won't cause any trouble."
"She better not be. What about him?" he asked, pointing at Jacques.
"He's with me," explained Dee as she cuddled up to him.
"Ugh, ok, me let you in this time."
"Who was that?" Susan asked the coat check took her jacket.
"That's Grond." Dee explained. "The Bouncer. He keeps the normal looking people out who might make fun of the clientele. The only way for them to get in is to be with a date who is a member."
As they made their way into the main room, Susan noticed the large amount of disco lights, along with a Devo-like band on the stage. Susan was taking in the atmosphere, when Dee grabbed her arm and pointed to a table in the corner.
"Hey, there's Erika and her husband; let's go sit with them."
When they got to the table, Susan realized just how huge Erika had become. Wearing a bandeau top along with a sarong that exposed her large belly, Erika looked like a living advertisement for Polynesian excess. Her 600+ pound body radiant in its floral prints, her bare belly pushing away from her to force her knees apart to let it hang down between them.
"Hey Dee, Susan, Jacques, glad you found us. Hey, Susan, who's the stud?"
"Uh, this is Mike, he's my date tonight." Susan replied, snuggling up against him as she noticed his subconsciously taking in Erika's overabundant air of sensuality. "Say, that's a nice print you're wearing tonight, where did you get it?"
"Jacques's store designed it. Perhaps as you fill out you should check out their designs. I like your outfit by the way, very New York chic! Looks good since you've obviously filled out a bit since Tuesday, you've put on what, about 20 pounds?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess." Susan replied, unsure as to accept what she said as a compliment.
"I heard you signed a contract with Big Beautiful World this afternoon and they want you to put on a lot more before you start endorsing their products."
"Yeah, it looks like I'm going to get fatter as my powers mature, I might as well get paid for it."
"Uh, Susan," Mike interrupted. "Not to interrupt you two, but do you want to dance?"
Grateful for the interruption, Susan let him lead her out onto the dance floor.
"Is there something going on between you two?" Mike asked as they were slow dancing to a tune called Open Arms.
"Yeah, but it's something left over from High School. She never wanted me in the clique we were in, she always thought I wasn't fat enough for their standards. That and she always stole the attentions of any guys I would try to go out with."
"Well, that time is past. Back then, you were probably at that stage where you were between the thin group of girls and the fat chicks."
"You have that part right."
"Just figure it this way, eventually you'll be able to be classified as one specific group, and then you know you'll only be picked on by one group, if that."
"Ok, not the best way to put it, but ok."
"Sorry, but about her stealing your boyfriends, I may occasionally look at her, but I'm here with you." He explained as he pressed his body into hers while gently holding her love handles to guide her to the music. She gasped with surprise as she felt his manhood press against her softness, informing her of just how much he was attracted to her. When the music ended, they went back to the table, arms wrapped around each other.
As they got back, they noticed a pitcher of chocolate milkshake waiting for her.
"I took the liberty of ordering for us girls while you were out there playing touchy-feely." Erika explained as she poured the three of them each a glass. Little did Susan or Dee know that the drinks were heavily laced with chocolate weight gain powder. She offered some to Mike, but he said he couldn't have any, as he was allergic to chocolate. Susan sniffed it, to check for alcohol, only to have Erika tell her there wasn't any so she didn't have to worry. Tasting the mixture, she found it to be the richest thing she'd ever tasted, next to Randi's mixture of course.
As the night wore on, she and Dee had finished almost three pitchers apiece. Just as Susan was ordering the fourth pitcher, the band stopped playing, saying they had a special request. They announced that one of the guests had a favorite song and they wanted her to get up on stage to dance to it for the crowd. Suddenly, the spotlight zoomed in on Susan! Glaring at Dee as the band embarrassed her into getting on stage, she mouthed a call for help to Mike. Walking on stage to jeers and catcalls from the crowd (Susan WAS one of the normal-looking ones there after all.), the band announced the song as being the long version of "Devil with the Blue Dress On" which was appropriate, considering her skimpy attire. Just as she was in fear of the crowd getting violent, Mike jumped onstage to act as her dance partner to take the heat off the crowd. Telling her to follow his lead, he signaled the musicians to start.
Starting off at a normal pace, for that particular song anyway, Mike starting speeding up the tempo as his powers kicked in. Susan was already getting winded, and as she started getting worn out, her own powers accidentally kicked in, causing her to get fatter before the eyes of the crowd. Her push-up bra kept up with her growth, but the skirt and fishnets were stretching to their limit. Her growth forced Mike to slow down to a more normal pace, but she had to concentrate all her efforts on the movement, Thus she couldn't do anything as her fishnets shredded and her skirts seams split up the side. They split off her body during the fastest part of the song, leaving her in just her stretch bra and thong. Her shoes had come off earlier in the song. She couldn't do anything about it, as Mike was going so fast that she could only follow his lead 'til the song was done.
The continued growth of her body was inconsequential compared to the reaction of the crowd. Upon seeing her sudden uncontrollable growth, the crowd went wild, realizing she was actually one of their own. Susan was so wrapped up in the crowd reaction; she didn't care what was happening to her, she was suddenly POPULAR!
When the song ended, Susan was left standing with Mike before them, with Susan being over 800 pounds heavier. Only this time, she wasn't as sagging as she'd normally be when inflating, she was similar to her experience in the gym. (The adverse effects of that steam bath must have effected how my body absorbs water.) As she stood there trying to figure out how she was going to get off the stage, which was creaking under her, two waitresses walked on stage carrying a congratulatory beer bong with two more pitchers of the shake she'd been drinking all night. The band got the crowd going to encourage her to down them both onstage! Sticking the rubber tube in her mouth, one waitress held the funnel up in the air while the other had Mike stand on a chair to pour both pitchers into the funnel to drain down Susan's waiting throat. Susan drained them without spilling a drop, smiling around her tube and up at Mike. Grond pulled up a ramp to the stage so she could slowly make her way offstage and back to her seat, which had been replaced with a large loveseat with wheels that she could ease herself into.
The others looked at her with awe, though Mike was looking on with apprehension.
"Susan, are you alright? Sorry I got carried away up there."
"Don't worry about it, what you did was probably the best thing that could have happened to me in tonight, considering how people were treating me here before this. I'm really tired though."
"Do you want to go home to dry out? Maybe get into something you'd be more comfortable wearing?"
"Maybe you can drive me home later. Surprisingly, with this crowd I feel really comfortable now. Thank you for the concern and the rescue though." She motioned to him to lean over her, where she could give him a kiss on the cheek.
Turning her attention to Jacques, she asked, "How come the rest of this outfit didn't come apart?"
"Well, knowing of your problems with your powers, we designed it with an experimental material Big Beautiful Wearhouse designed, it's called Span-XX. It's supposed to stretch to accommodate the wearer; the skirt's stitching must not have been of the same material."
"Well Susan," Erika remarked. "Looks like you're not going to be the skinny one of the group much longer!"
"Yeah, I guess not. Good thing I'm getting paid for this!"
As the night ended, Jacques and Mike left so they could get Susan's car, as Jacques's van couldn't handle her weight. Dee and Erika kept pushing her to go for it with Jacques, that she should stay her current size, as he seemed to really like it. Susan said maybe, though she didn't exactly want to trade away her mobility. When the guys pulled up with her car, she begged off going to Dee's, as she wouldn't be able to get through the hallways, little lone be able to climb the stairs while being unable to bend her knees. She undid the steering wheel to slide into the driver's seat as the interior shifted to accommodate her size, and she drove Mike home to the base, which gave her a chance to use the voice commands on the car's computer system.
Once they got back to the base, Mike got out of the car, the car adjusting to ease Susan out of the seat. Together they made way back to Susan's quarters. She used the computer system she designed to drain back to her regularly plump size, retaining the increased poundage she acquired during the evening, along with a couple extra inches which she gained from the pitchers of weight-gain shake she'd drank during the evening. Once drained, she approached Mike, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him longing on the lips. Saying despite the unusual circumstances, she enjoyed herself that night, asking him if he wanted to stay. He said he couldn't, saying because of his powers he would end up hurting her unless she was at least Erika's size, if not the size she was at the earlier. He did say he had a good time as well, and wanted to see her again. She readily agreed, kissed him again and said goodnight. As he left, he reminded her of their workout the next day. Susan then went to bed, fantasizing about what Mike / Azure Streak had in mind for her…
Bouncing to Victory and Azure Streak's confession
Susan woke up the next morning to knocking on her door. It was Azure Streak, waking her up for their workout. Telling him she'd be ready in about half an hour, she rolled out of bed to take a wake up shower. Afterwards, she dehydrated then stepped on the scale.
"225!" Susan exclaimed. "I know I put on around 15-20 pounds with dinner last night, but where did the rest of it come from? Oh yeah. Those five pitchers of chocolate shake last night. What possessed me to do that? I swear, I'm never going to get used to the idea of TRYING to get fat! Well, I might as well find out where it all went."
Taking the tape measure, Susan found her dimensions to be 42DD - 39 - 47. Cursing her tendency towards being bottom heavy, while reminding herself to pick-up some of that herbal cream from GNC so she could even out her figure eventually, she donned her costume and waddled to the Danger Room.
When she got there, the first thing Azure Streak wanted to do was run some tests to see if anything about her changed since she'd been gaining weight. Susan asked if they were at least going to eat breakfast first, and he explained that he makes it a practice to workout on an empty stomach. That way he'd have more of an appetite later.
The first thing he did was to show her a chamber about twice the size of a telephone booth, only made of concrete with several hydraulics attached. He told her that this was a booth designed to test the strength of the participant. Once turned on, the ceiling will slowly descend on the person, they can then try to hold the ceiling up until their strength starts to fail, at which point the machine would stop. He altered the chamber somewhat for Susan's purposes, programming it so that it would stop with a decrease of the humidity within. He did this so as to know when Susan's body was gearing up to put on grow to compensate for her need for more strength. Operating the test, Azure Streak determined her strength to peak at 250 pounds, 100 pounds more than when she tested it at the gym with Randi the week before.
"Susan, about much did you gain last night?
"Um…about 25 pounds, why?"
"Well, from my calculations, I would guestimate that your strength is growing almost exponentially as you gain weight. Knowing that your ideal genetic weight is about 400 pounds, at that weight I'd estimate you will be able to bench press your car.
"I guess that's one benefit."
Next, Azure Streak requested that Susan change into her skimpier exercise outfit that she had received the week before, that he needed some skin exposure for the next test. When Susan came back from changing, he showed her a plastic rod and asked her to clench her body from the waist down. As she did so, he tried to poke the rod into the fat in her thighs and rear. He found her fat so taught, he could not penetrate it. He checked other parts of her to find the same results, even discovering that she could now just start to hold onto the rod as she did when she was grown. He explained to her that as she's gained weight, that her flexibility of her fat and skin was becoming more rubbery like, while she increased control of the tissues.
He then asked her to tense up and drop backward to her rear. She was kind of leery of doing so, but he assured her it would be okay. When she impacted with the floor, her tensed butt muscles caused her to bounce upwards about 3 feet! Unfortunately, she wasn't able to control the direction she went in, she ended up bowling him to the floor, with her weight pinning him down.
"Uh, that was good, Susan, you can get off of me now."
"Why? You know you like it, and trust me…" she exclaimed as she felt his erection pressing into her ample belly. "I know you like it too."
"Yes, I bet you can tell," Azure Streak agreed. "But now isn't the time or place."
Flexing his muscles he rolled her off of him.
"Eventually, you might be able to keep me pinned, but not quite yet. Let's get on with the workout."
Next he had her try to get her legs under her as she bounced up, so as to control her direction. Susan tried, but found her concentration lacking as she was distracted by the continued erection in Azure Streak's tights. Noticing this, he suggested she go outside and work on it, while he went back to her quarters and started making breakfast.
Susan practiced until she could get the direction she wanted to go down, then she inflated to her 400# form to see how much farther she could bounce. She found she could bounce around 10 feet, three times as much as when she was smaller! She decided to go the distance and inflated to the almost 1100# form she had been the night before in the club. Unable to bend her knees to guide her, she found that by flexing her feet before she left the ground, she could go almost 50 feet and still land on her feet. Any farther, and she landed on her now gargantuan a##, causing her to bounce again or causing her to have problems moving her bulk to a standing position without something to brace herself on.
Waddling out to about a half mile away, she went to her fully-grown form. She found she was able to grow to around 25 feet tall, 5 feet taller and rounder than she had been able to grow when she first joined the team, and ripping her outfit to near shreds! Now almost 30 tons of jiggling, blubbery fat, she tried to bounce, finding the ground shaking as she did so. Although she found she had to watch out for damaging the landscape, as her body now covered much more ground when she landed, she found she could bounce the length of a football field! Doing so quick calculations, she determined that once her metabolism stabilized she be able to bounce miles! Bouncing her way closer to the base, she shrunk down to her 400# and snuck to her room to dehydrate and change clothes for breakfast.
While changing, Susan found out just how much fatter she'd become, as not even her underwear fit anymore! The T-shirts she'd treated to expand as she did fit well enough, only the extra inches she's accumulated around her chest caused them to ride up, barely exposing the bottom of her breasts when she moved or bent down the wrong way. (At least it takes the attention away from my butt.) Unfortunately, as they stretched, the fabric of the shirt got thinner, almost looking as if the shirt were painted on with transparent tape. Her jeans were less of a problem, as they merely clung onto her hips and rear like a second skin. The waistband hand not quite stretched as well, her belly was being squeezed into, causing her midriff to bulge over the top.
"Breakfast is ready!" Mike called from the kitchen.
"Be right out."
Looking around for a better shirt, she got an idea. Taking a frilly blouse from the closet, Susan tied the ends in a knot loosely to form an oversized bra. She then sucked enough moisture from the air to fill out the shirt even more, making her look top-heavy for her size. She then waddled in to breakfast, her breasts in jiggling, bouncing prominence.
When she got to the kitchen area, she found the kitchen table covered with platters of pancakes with chocolate chips melting in and hot fudge in a side pitcher, along with side plates of pastries and a pitcher of chocolate milk.
"Mike, you DO know last night was because of my medication, right? I can't eat all this."
"No problem, this is my breakfast to, with my metabolism, I have to eat almost as much as you're supposed to. To maintain my speed and energy level."
As they sat down and started digging in, Susan noticed how Mike was staring at her enlarged chest. She explained that she had a theory that when she ate while bloated, the weight seemed to accumulate on the areas that held the most water, normally she'd be large all over, so it would settle on her rear. She had decided to try enlarging one section, to see if her chest would gain the weight from the meal, hopefully she'd be able to even out that way. Meanwhile Mike had finished a third of the food and was up and massaging the fat on her fat and shoulders while she ate, encouraging her. The conversation drifted to how much fatter she was going to be getting.
"Mike, I know you like the idea of my getting even larger, you as much as screamed it from the rooftops last night. My question is, how much do you want me to gain? The doctor says my ideal weight will be 400, Dee seems to think I should go to her size then continue to keep up, and I'm not sure but I know Agency wants me to fit their smallest line of clothes, which should be around 325. What's your imagined destiny for me?"
"Promise you won't get mad?"
"Well, based on my metabolism, I'd think your ideal 'safe' weight would be around Dee's size. But based on how it felt to dance with you after that number last night. I'd have to revise my opinions somewhat, right this moment, I'd say you could get to be THAT size, or more, so long as you can still move around."
"I have my doubts that I want to get that awkwardly huge, but I'll definitely end up Dee's size, ok?"
"I guess so. By the way, the agency called while you were out, they have some temporary clothes made for you and they want to discuss your first photo shoot. They want you in Monday morning."
"Oh Joy. Maybe I can get a check for what I've gained so far. I know I should get a check from Mr. Zion. I need some larger sizes for office visits, going out in public, etc. And I need to call Jacques to get a new costume made, I shredded the last two as my powers are letting me grow larger considering the extra weight. I figure if I get something in that new material, then treat it, it should be twice as expandable."
"That's a good idea. I'll do dishes while you call him."
While Mike cleared the table, Susan got a call through to the mall. She told him what happened and said she needed a new uniform, something a bit more stylish that she wouldn't be arrested for, but would turn Mike on. Jacques said he would do what he could when she requested the special fabric.
She then drove to the mall, picking out a couple of outfits for business, one of which she chose to make her gain even more obvious without being gaudy.
The rest of the day, she spent in the Danger Room, using the perfected dehydrator with the gym equipment so she wouldn't gain weight to compensate for the stress she was putting on herself. Little did she know how much potential for gain she was actually acquiring through the strenuous exercising…
Susan waddled into the Big Beautiful World offices Monday morning, wondering what they would say about her sudden weight gain of the last four days. The secretary, a large woman weighing close to 325 pounds, or so Susan guessed, directed her to a nice oversized, armless chair.
As Susan sat down, she began to think about how much she'd actually gained. Gaining close to 25 pounds from her date on Friday, she'd decided to get something snug on Saturday for the meeting today. Unfortunately, over the next couple days, she'd put on an extra 5, making the outfit feel even tighter across the chest, as she'd experimented with expanding her breasts with water in efforts to both direct some weight there and away from her now 48" hips. Now she was measuring in at 43 - 40 - 48, the skirt riding up her thighs, while the buttons on the jacket and blouse puckered when she sat. The only thing Susan forgot to buy was pantyhose, her plump and slightly dimpled thighs felt constricted in the hose, making them feel like sausages.
"Good thing I'm not wearing a mini-skirt," thought Susan. "These are my last pair and they're rubbing through where my thighs have been rubbing together."
As Susan waited, she looked up to see the secretary looking at her.
"So you're gonna be their newest model, huh?"
"Yeah, so far it looks that way."
"They were wanting me to model for them, but I found I get stage fright. That and I didn't feel comfortable gaining the kind of weight they were wanting, health concerns and all, you know."
"Luckily, or I guess unluckily, my metabolism requires me to be fat. How fat did they want you to be?"
"I can't remember exact numbers, but I remember they were looking for a model to be bigger than most their other models. Models my size are pretty common here. I'm satisfied with 50% off their clothing line with this job now. Creamstick?" she asked, motioning to a tray on her desk.
"Thanks. These are seriously rich! So, how much did you weigh when you finally quit? If you don't mind my asking."
"I don't know, maybe 250. I've obviously grown to their minimum clothing size since then, there are lots of fringe benefits working here."
"Yes Mr. Fed."
"You can send Ms. Whitmore up now."
"Yes Sir, right away."
"Well, you heard him. The conference room is 2nd floor, third door to your left as you get of the elevators."
"Thanks again, Cheri."
Susan waddled toward to elevators, reminding herself to ask exactly how big they want her to get.
When Susan met Mr. Fed, she was much relieved. Standing at 6' tall, he was easily the fattest man she'd ever met, at least 500 pounds. "At least I can still feel thin around HIM." Susan thought.
"Ms. Whitmore! Come in, come in. Sit down. I'm still having breakfast, have a donut? My wife makes the best."
Accepting, Susan sat down in the chair opposite him, taking one from the platter in front of her.
"I have a better idea." Mr. Fed exclaimed. Leaning over as best he could to reach the intercom, he asked Cheri to wire down to the commissary for his wife to send over another breakfast for Susan, and to send in the wardrobe designer.
"Lucky for me she works in the kitchens, I swear that woman has me eating all day long. Now then, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Maxwell Fed; I've been assigned as your caseworker. You can just call me Max."
"Ok, Max, you can call me Susan."
Just then, there was a knock on the door, followed by a young man entering the office with boxes under each arm. He looked over at Susan and smiled, then frowned when he looked at her clothes.
"Mr. Fed, I don't think my creations will fit her. She's way too skinny yet."
"Oh quit worrying man! She'll grow into them." Turning to Susan, he said "Susan if you don't mind, can you please step over to the scale in the corner, I'd like to see how much you weigh, for your records, you understand."
Doing so, she told him by that scale she weighed in at 230. Looking at her file, he congratulated her on the rate of her gain, 30 pounds in just 4 days. She asked about pay for what she'd gained and she was told her contract stated that she was to get the money only after she made minimum size requirements, that he didn't have a choice in the matter. He told her not to worry; that the way she was gaining she'd grow to the company standard in no time.
"Max, exactly what IS the company standard for me?"
"They're not sure yet exactly. Oh by the way, you can go now Samuel; we'll call you when it's time for the fitting. Market research says Americans are getting fatter as a standard, we just don't know how far that will go as yet. I do know however, that they want you much larger than our average model. We have plenty of those. Cheri would be but one of our smallest models, if we could get her to overcome her stage fright. Don't worry, you have quite a ways to grow yet before you're MY size!" Max laughed, oblivious to Susan's growing trepidation.
"Question: what if I get cold feet and back out, like Cheri did?"
"Well, I know they don't have to pay you for the weight you've gained so far. But they will give a card for 10% off our Big Beautiful Wearhouse fashions, plus they may offer you a full-time job with the company. Your resume says you're a computer whiz, right? But why are we talking about this, you won't get cold feet, I can tell. You LOVE to eat!"
As if on cue, a set of double doors swung open as a statuesque (about 6'6") muscular woman came in, pushing a large pastry cart filled with covered dishes.
"Ah, hi honey. Susan, this is my wife Wilhemenia. Willie, meet Susan, our newest model-to-be."
"Dear, you know I prefer my middle name around the office."
"Of course, Bea."
Looking at Susan, Bea declared, "She's definitely not fat enough! Well, I'll fix that." She then started loading platters onto a rolling table with a swing out top like a dentist's table.
"Uh, hello, Bea is it? Can we at least say Hello to each other first?"
"Yeah, yeah. We can talk after you're done eating." She then uncovered the first platter to reveal a large omelet made with a dozen eggs, and dripping with fatty sausage and ham, and smothered with shredded cheese and thick cheese sauce.
"But what if I'm not hunmpfh…?" Susan tried to ask as she stuffed the first forkful into her mouth.
"Susan, I wouldn't try to resist her if I were you. It's obvious that I can't." Max explained, patting his protruding belly. "Besides, she's a mutant like you are and can bench a tank! And you don't have the room to grow."
And so it went. Susan tried to resist, but Bea held her down as she forced her to eat the whole omelet, followed by a loaf of French toast with ski slopes of powdered sugar and rivers of syrup. She then made her wash it down with a half gallon of rich cream, flavored with a full can of chocolate sauce. An hour later, Bea left, reminding them both that lunch was in an hour. Susan was too stuffed to move, her distended stomach caused the buttons around her belly to burst free, exposing her taut belly that now rolled over the top of her skirt.
"Ugh… I want to file charges on that woman for assault. Forcing me to eat all that, and I wasn't even hungry!"
"Well, there are several problems with that. For one, by the security cameras in the lobby, you were eating pastry when you got here, so it looks like you were hungry. Second is your agreement with us, you're signed on to GAIN WEIGHT, remember? And third, you didn't use your powers to resist her. That's the big one, they'll say based on your eating habits you actually LIKED it and are trying to rationalize your constant weight gain as not being by your choice."
"Well, anyway, I still feel violated…"
"Yeah, I know. I did too at first. Did you know I was only 175 pounds when she and I got married? I'm TRIPLE that size now, but I've learned to love every minute of it. Being force-fed isn't for everyone, granted, but that's the type of personality she is."
"Fine, fine. But you tell her if she ever touches me without my permission, I'll mop the floor with her. So anyway, what's next?"
"First, I send for the masseuse, to help us digest breakfast, then we'll have you change into one of your new outfits, the one you're wearing is pretty well shot."
"Ok, but… Masseuse?"
Moments later, the office door opened to admit a young man and woman, both about Susan's age, wearing outfits designed for aerobics instructors.
"Susan, this is Inga and Sven, our massage therapists. We at Big Beautiful World have discovered the a good massage usually aids in digestion and relieves the bloated feeling of one of my wife's meals." To Sven, "Ah, Sven, if you please…"
As Sven walked over to massage Max's belly, "You see, Sven is one of the strongest masseur's in New York. I did employ Inga's touch until Bea started getting jealous. Now I need Sven, as he's the only one strong enough to penetrate my flesh."
While Sven was massaging Max's bloated belly, Inga walked over to Susan.
"Inga do you now, yah?"
Looking over and seeing Max enjoying himself, and realizing how bloated she herself still felt decided her. "Yah, do me, Inga."
Inga started by going to Susan's chair and wheeling it toward a set of doors on the other side of the office, so they could have some privacy. In the other room was a massage table, already set up. Helping Susan onto the table, Inga started to unbutton the rest of Susan's blouse.
"Uh, Inga, what do you think you are doing?" Susan asked, holding her shirt together.
"Inga can't give massage through clothes like Mr. Fed, you not fat like him, yet."
"OK, I guess. But let me take them off, okay?"
Susan removed her blouse and skirt, leaving her in her underwear.
"No, Inga want ALL clothes off."
Susan removed her pantyhose, which were uncomfortable anyway, then removed her undergarments once Inga turned around and offered her a couple of oversized towels. Lying down on the table, she was then covered over her chest and rear with the towels. Inga then proceeded to rub Susan's taut stomach, starting lightly with small circles then getting rougher and deeper, pushing the food in her stomach on its way while developing a pulsating rhythm which started turning Susan on to the point where she was moving with the pressure of her hands.
"You like what Inga do with hands?"
"Oh, God yes! Don't stop!"
"Rollover, Inga do more."
After Susan rolled over onto her stomach, Inga started a deep backrub, plying her fingers into Susan's backfat and working her way down to the small of her back, lingering on her growing love handles. Then, seeing Susan not minding, Inga moved down to Susan's prominent backside, leaning into each buttcheek to penetrate the rounding, flesh. Inga gently moved down to Susan's thighs, spreading them so she could work on the inside of each one, kneading out the soreness each had accumulate from their constant rubbing. She followed up by Susan's shins, then her ankles, which because of a thin layer of fat that were covering them so as to support her increasing weight, were now less definable. Her feet had increased a width as well, Susan definitely needing new shoes. Inga worked her way back up to Susan's fleshy shoulders and neck, which had almost grown its second chin.
Finally, Inga leaned over, kissing Susan on a pudgy cheek and breaking her sensual fugue.
"There, Inga done now. Feel better now?"
"Oh, yesss… Who could've known being fat could be so…sexually invigorating?"
"Inga, could you come into the other room for a minute?"
To Susan, "Inga go now, be back in minute." Taking Susan's outgrown clothes; Inga walked out, leaving Susan naked with nothing but a towel to cover herself with…
Minutes later, Inga returned, carrying the boxes that had been left for her.
"You change into one of these, then you follow Inga, yah?"
Opening the first box, Susan found a thong swimsuit with a see-through silk teddy, all done in soft blue. Other boxes featured various two piece outfits in various styles, from Spandex biker shorts and sports bras to outfits similar to the one she had at home. All the clothes were done in blue, and were designed such to emphasize every ounce of fat on Susan's body.
"Inga, maybe I'd better wear the outfit I came in wearing. These are much too revealing for me."
"No, you wear these now, you too big for those other clothes now."
It was true; somehow the calories from the breakfast she'd just eaten had already accumulated on Susan's body, depositing themselves on the areas most stimulated by Inga's ministrations. Her belly had blossomed before her, had folded over her waist and edged into her lap slightly. Her rear had inflated behind her, creating two globes whose cushion-like expanse had caused her to sit higher and expanding to either side as she did so. Her thighs and legs had expanded as well, only able to cross at the ankle, with her dimpled thighs pushing her knees apart about three inches. Her back and shoulders had softened with an extra layer of flesh as well. Her neck had thickened into a double chin. Susan's figure had changed from a plump hourglass to a delectable pear.
She poured herself into a pair of biker shorts which, when worn, stretched to encompass her rear like a second skin while being cut low enough in front to allow her belly to hang overtop. Then she put on the sports bra, which emphasized her cleavage, though did not take attention away from her abundant posterior. She then waddled into the outer office, rolling each cheek seductively, as her growth would not allow her to do anything else.
"Maxwell Fed!" Susan yelled. "I want a word with you!"
The Photo Shoot
"Yes, Ms. Whitmore? Ah, I see Bea's cooking is having its effect on you already."
"Yeah, it has. What the hell has she done to me?!"
"Well, she has a peculiar ability to cook such that the calories almost instantaneously metabolize themselves as fat on whatever areas of the body are stimulated immediately after it's eaten."
"And you let her do this to me?!"
"Ms. Whitmore, step on the scale, so you get an idea of how much money you just made."
Getting on the scale, she found she had gained 30 pounds, rounding her out at 260.
"You see, $300,000 in 2 hours. You should be thanking my wife, not berating her. Now sit down, I want to explain some things to you."
Susan waddled over to the chair she'd been in earlier, this time wedging her prominent hips between the arms.
"Ms. Whitmore, I didn't ASK to be as fat as I am either. I weighed 175 pounds before I married Bea. That was almost a year ago. Look at me now, I weigh almost 525 pounds. Probably more since this morning."
Looking at him more closely, Susan noticed how his once snug dress shirt was now straining at the torso, the buttons threatening to pop.
Max continued, "Now I can barely move, and I have trouble fending for myself, physically. At least with your metahuman abilities, your system compensates for any weight you gain. Plus you get PAID for every pound you gain, over the weekend you gained 30 pounds, which's $300,000! I'm just doing this to make Bea happy. That and so she doesn't crush me when we have sex. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, we ARE happily married. So I don't want to hear anymore whining from you about how fat you're getting, YOU volunteered for this job."
After hearing all this, Susan felt ashamed.
"I'm sorry, Max, I won't complain anymore."
"Good, I promise to find out as soon as I can just how fat the board wants you to get. Now pick up your boxes and go downstairs to the studio for your photo shoot. Cheri will walk you down."
Susan tried to push herself up out of the armchair, but found herself wedged tight, her arms not lined with enough fatty muscle to push herself free.
"Ugh, I seem to be stuck." She said, frustrated at her increased size.
"That seems to happen all the time with that chair! I've been meaning to get it replaced. Luckily it has wheels, so Cheri can wheel you down."
On the way down to the studio, Cheri apologized for Susan's predicament, saying she'd have to exchange it for one of the chairs in the boardroom. That way someone will notice and it would get replaced.
Trying to get away from the subject, Susan asked her how long ago she quit modeling.
"Actually, I never started, but I'd say probably a month, why?"
"Well, I was curious, you said you backed out when you were about the size I am now, and that you'd obviously gained since then."
"Oh well, I see you've put on some weight as well, since you came in this morning. Bet you're Bea's latest project. I was thinking if you go through with this model thing, maybe I can take you around and show you where all the Fat-Friendly places to go are, you know, like restaurants, movie theaters, and stuff."
Knowing where most of them all were from hanging out with Dee, but realizing that Cheri was trying to be nice and make up for her way with words, Susan agreed to go out with her.
By the time they got everything settled, they were down in make-up.
As she was wheeled into makeup, Susan got her first look at her makeup man. A rather portly gentleman in his late 30's, with a beard and glasses. He looked rather like a young Santa Claus, before he stopped trimming the beard.
"Ah, Cheri, how nice to see you again! And who has Max's Demon Chair of Entrapment captured this time?"
"Marty, meet Susan Whitmore, the latest of our Super-Size Models-to-be. Susan, meet Martin Beckler, miracle worker for the stars!"
"You are such a flatterer! Here, Susan, let me help you out of that thing."
Marty then pulled Susan out of the confines of the chair, using his bulk as leverage.
"Susan, perhaps you'd better sit in the makeup chair for now. Cheri, will you finally have Maxwell get rid of that darn thing? I swear every new model ends up stuck in it."
"I'll do better than that, Marty, I'll trade it with one of the chairs in the boardroom, they'll HAVE to get rid of it then!"
After Cheri left, Marty had Susan stand up so he could get a better look at her. He asked her if she had eaten breakfast, and when she told him Bea had served her breakfast, he told her she was undoubtedly heavier than she was before. He said she had to be measured again, to get an idea of what size she would need for new clothes. Measuring her before the floor length mirror on the wall, he explained that the formulas Bea used in her food were empty calories, fast-digesting and designed for rapid fat accumulation while still leaving the consumer hungry. As he rattled off her measurements, 43 - 42 - 49, Susan was busy looking at herself in the mirror. Noticing her definite belly fold over the waistline of her biker shorts, she turned slightly to see her protruding rump, which set on top of her thick, dimply thighs, along with the rest of her shapely legs. "What a porker I'm becoming," Susan thought gloomily. "I swear, I should never have joined this group, the more I use my powers the fatter I seem to get!" Susan's mood was not lost on Marty, however.
"Susan, are you sure you really WANT to be a Super-Size model? You don't seem very keen on the idea of gaining weight."
"Well, actually, I don't want to be all that fat. It's just with my metabolism being as screwed up as it is, my doctor recommends that my ideal weight for my metabolism is around 400 pounds anyway, and this offer came along, so I figured I may as well get paid for it. I just wish I wasn't destined to become so bottom heavy though. I'm only 260 pounds now, but my butt and thighs are already big enough to slow me down and force me to waddle when I walk."
"Susan, allow me to let you in on a little secret. There isn't much I can do to reduce your size, but I can at least find a way to emphasize the rest of you. I have a magical way with makeup."
"Thanks, Marty, I'd really appreciate it."
Marty then aimed a soft spotlight down on Susan, so he could use his darker flesh tones to the shadows cast by her upper body, most notably her bust, belly, and upper arms. He commented on her wardrobe, telling her the fabric was a stretchy material the company dubbed with the name "Feederwear." It was actually a little marketed clothing line for women who are trying to gain weight, especially designed to emphasize just how fat she was getting and where.
"But how many women actually WANT to get fat?" Susan asked.
"Oh you'd be surprised, heck, my wife is even fatter than I am! Fat women are softer, more sensual, than skinny women are. There are even people out there who enjoy seeing others gain weight. I bet if you look around you'll even find people encouraging your. . . enlargement."
Looking over her life, she realized he was right. Between Dee and Erica (along with their boyfriends), Randi, and even Azure Streak, she had plenty of people who wanted to fatten her up. Just as she was realizing this, Marty broke her reverie, telling her he was done with her makeup. He then had her pose in various sets in her other outfits, stuffing herself with food he had sent up. On a beach in her bikini with a picnic lunch, in a bedroom in lingerie enjoying breakfast in bed, sitting on a bicycle in her biker shorts and sports bra ordering from a hot-dog vendor. By the time they were done, Susan was uncomfortably stuffed, her distended belly pushing out and farther over her waistband. Marty could see the discomfort in her eyes.
"Just lie down on the bed for a few minutes, Susan, I'll be right back." He then went to a wall phone and made a call. A few minutes later, Cheri came back down riding in what looked to be an electric recliner.
"Now THIS is the only thing I miss about being a would be model." Cheri explained. "Here, let me help you up, so you can try it out for size."
Susan lowered herself into the recliner, putting her feet up and luxuriating in the comfort, even though it seemed designed for someone four times her current size.
"Ahhh, this is so comfortable, I don't know if I want to get out of it."
"That's the idea, kind of a plush wheelchair. The concept is the less you have to move around, the faster you'll gain the weight." Marty told her. "You'll still need exercise as you gain, so I recommend you just use it for a couple hours after meals, just so's your food settles."
"Sure thing, Marty. Any other tips you can give me?"
"Only to stay away from Bea's cooking, unless it's in the commissary, and avoid any of those weight-gain shakes, those aren't healthy either. If you want a fattening drink that's good, try heavy whipping cream mixed with almond extract and about 5-6 tablespoons of sugar. If you don't like almonds, try chocolate syrup."
"Thanks, Marty, I'll remember that."
As Susan maneuvered the recliner out of the double doors, escorted by Cheri and Marty, there was a conference going on behind what turned out to be the wall mirror.
"Did you hear that bastard insult my cooking? I'll kill him!"
"Calm down, Bea," Bambi warned her. "Something about him tells me he's dangerous. Besides, I think he's placating our newest project's anxiety. Plus his prattling on, gave me the time I needed."
"Why? What did you do to our little chubbette?"
"Well, first of all, I've done my research on Miss Whitmore. Seems most everyone she knows is trying to help her fatten up as much as we are. A few of them are even fatter than SHE is. You should she the group I've seen her talking to at Golden Mall. I just instilled a couple of post- hypnotic suggestions."
"Do tell, dear Bambi," Bea encouraged.
"First of all, I've inspired her to feel hungry whenever she's around someone who is at least as fat as she is. Second, I've brainwashed her to instinctively trust anyone who either compliments her on her size or encourages her continued weight gain. And there's the third thing, which I'm sure you'll appreciate. You remember when Marty said she needs to exercise to keep fit? Well, I've planted a suggestion in her subconscious that triggers whenever she sits in that chair, which will make her only want to get out of it when she has to. As she gets lazier, she'll get even fatter. Plus her muscles will slowly atrophy, making her less and less able to fend for herself, until she's no longer a threat!"
"You're a genius, Bambi."
"Yes, I know. Speaking of porkers, how's your husband coming along?"
"Stop that! You know he's not my husband!" Bea warned her. "You only brainwashed him into that so I could get this cushy gig! I've been using him to perfect my formula, thank God you make him think I have sex with him, I could never screw a pig like him! Once we hit the motherload with our little food Sponge, I can dump his fat ass so we can all live like royalty. By the way, how fat are the Board of Directors going to want our 'little' Susan? Or should I say how fat are YOU going to make them want her?!"
"Well, let's see, the company caters to women ranging well the average plus sized range. Their smallest model is around 300-325 pounds, while the largest size is around I'd guess 700 pounds. I think the Board will want her to aim for an even higher demographic, perhaps the special immobility line. Or maybe they'll decide to start of the Feederwear clothing line again?" Bambi started chuckling at the thought.
"Excellent, once she reaches immobility I'm sure the Sheik will send for her right away. We're making double the money the company offered her. He not only wants her for his wife, but with her water retention abilities, she'll be able to irrigate his country as well!"
Both of them broke out laughing at that.
(To Be Continued)