A Romance of the Future
by Wilson Barbers
Delia met Tim the day that she came into BigWeigh to seal her enhancement. As the newest biotechnician on clinic, it was his task to interview and explain the process to all incoming clients ready to change their bodystyles, and he'd already developed a standard patter to go with it. Soon as he saw Miz Delia Cartland, though, he was ready to abandon his short spiel just to keep her in the room. The woman was gorgeous!
Understand this first: Tim wasn't the type to usually go for reg-bodied women. He was adipostate all the way, an admirer of biomedically enhanced bodies of the fattest kind. It was this love that had brought him to BigWeigh, which specialized in enhancements and the minimal health needs that characterized the enhanced adipost. But Delia was something else against: a reg woman so fat that she already could've been through the process.
Waddling off the building platform, gasping for breath, she happily took a seat in Tim's office. At least five years older than the age of med-consent, she was dressed in a bodysuit that hugged her 370-plus kg. frame. Long brunette hair held back with a band. Cumbrous belly pushing ahead of her imposingly. A squeezee of liquical in her dimpled right hand. Because his mind always did the math, he found himself transforming her weight into figures from the previous century. 370 cageys came to about 814 pounds, a weight that was rare in the pre-biomed days. And still pretty scarce in a person who hadn't gone through any body work yet.
"Timothy Ripley," he introduced himself, rising from behind his desk. "Understand yer here for an enhancement."
She smiled around her squeezee straw, cheeks shadowing her mouth. Her lips were appealingly swollen; her cheeks so round that she looked like she had her mouth full even when she didn't. "Mr. Ripley," she panted between long sips. "I know that cityregs require you to explain things to me, and I'm eager to hear everything you have to tell me. But you can see I've already spent much of my life prepping for this procedure." She gestured ahead of her body, which quivered wonderfully all around her, then took another long sip from her squeezee. "I'll be surprised if you tell me somp'n fresh." She wiped a row of sweat off her full upper lip. It was clear that moving this much weight took a lot out of her.
"You might be right," he replied, and he launched into his talk, anyway. Adipost enhancement, he explained, was one of the last body customizing procedures developed in the mid-twenty-first century. But it quickly grew in popularity to the point where every city had its own population of prodigious-sized urbanites.
The process of changing a reg-sized man or woman to the models of obesity you saw in the biomed age involved not just changing personal metabolism and setpoints, but the skeletal, circulatory, nervous and digestive systems. Once enhanced, the enlarged adipost had a body that adapted to carry bigger and bigger weights. It was all but impossible to turn back the process, but few who went through it wanted to, anyway.
"So, basically, what yer saying is once I get enhanced - turned into an adipost - I'll be able to walk across the room without losing my breath," Delia said.
"Adipost bodies are marvelous in their ability to accommodate weights that would've been inconceivable in the previous century," Tim said. "Of course, at a certain state of physical development many adiposts resort to personal platforms for convenience. When yer belly's grown large enough to settle on the ground, it's less of a hassle to have a little air platform keeping it up when you walk."
They both stopped to consider the image a second, and it was hard to see who was more affected by it.
"Tell me about the process itself," she finally said, after rummaging through her satchel for a package of sweed bars.
"It's a day-long procedure," Tim complied. "First stage is the biotech component, and yer put to sleep for that. Once you come to, though, the second stage begins. We typically refer to it as the binge stage. The enhanced body calls for as much food as it can digest, and that's quite a lot. Every cal of food goes onto yer body during the binge stage. An enhanced client goes through three or four waves of binging, with short rem periods inbetween, and with each binge, their capacity expands with their body. Every time you wake up, you find you've grown larger and even more lovely."
"Lovely," Delia repeated, and for a moment, Tim worried that he'd overstepped his bounds. Not a thing to do with someone who hadn't even sealed her contract yet.
But then she smiled and wiped away his fear. "I like the way you flirt, Mr. Ripley," she said. "Not too many men - or women - would call me lovely. I'm much too fat for reg, while those who are attracted to enhanced gals don't wanna hassle with the demands a reg body puts on this much weight."
"Just being short-sighted," Tim told her. "From the way you've been prepping, I'd say you have the most potential of any pre-enhanced client that I've seen. Potential to be among the hugest adiposts, to reach sizes others can only dream about."
"I like the way you think, too," Delia answered with a laugh. "You gonna oversee my enhancement?"
"If you want."
"Sure do," she said. "Who knows? With yer encouragement, maybe I could binge to the point of being maxfed!"
Talk about magic words. If there was any one fantasy that still held Tim in a world where women daily grew tremendous all around him, it was the urban myth of the maxfed lover. Maxfed: an adipost who'd grown to such huge size that they'd grown past the span of their limbs. You heard of such glorious figures, but everything he'd ever learned as a biotech told him that it was damned unlikely. Once you finished binging, you hit stabilization, when eating had practically the same effect on an adipost as it did on anybody. You could still gain weight - most adiposts raised their setpoints regularly - but not to the degrees required to fit the maxfed fantasy.
Or so prevailing wisdom had it.
He said as much to Delia. This brought another smile to her plump lips. "I know the prevailing wisdom," she said. "Did research on it for a stim script several years back. Nobody admits that maxfed adiposts exist in real life, though the fantasy is a strong 'un. To have swollen past the reach of yer fingertips, past the balls of yer feet. To reach immobility as an adipost when yer body is designed to adapt and prevent that very thing - it's a powerful dream. I'm not sure why, but it is."
"So yer a writer," Tim said, checking her screen. Figured. A good sedentary occupation with lots of time for caloric accumulation. Miz Cartland had a steady contract with Heaviness Stimulations, which specialized in scenarios featuring sweet young things who'd been enhanced against their will. While plenty of young pre-adiposts were fans of this type of entertainment (the force component helped to alleviate any anxiety that a reg youth might still be feeling about committing to a bodystyle), he'd never met someone who created these fantasies. She'd even worked on a few of his personal faves.
By dayshift's end, Tim knew more about his intriguing reg client than the job required him to know. He was hours behind in his appointments - but he didn't care. This was the sexiest woman he'd ever met! And though he didn't know if he was fixating on the woman Delia or the possibility Delia, he was willing to work on finding out.
Her enhancement was scheduled for next week, so he had time. Soon as he got back to his roomapt, he buzzed Delia to invite her out to dinner.
"You always this friendly with yer clients?" she asked him.
"Never done this kinda thing before," he told her, and her face softened beatifically as she considered his statement.
They met at a chomp 'n' bounce on the end of adipost zone: a food bar frequented by some of the weightiest folk in town. She was dressed in a back-less foodbar dress, an elegant design that revealed every bulge and curve and hung only an inch or two below her dangling belly. As she moved, her belly apron flashed occasionally into view, dangling in twin protuberances from her shadowy navel. Delia's calves grew in swelling rings beneath her hemline; her cleavage was a foot deep. Between both impressive breasts and her cumbrous paunch, two bulges squeezed out like individual bases for each mam.
Delia had already staked a spot by one of the food walls, and as the night went on, it was obvious that she was a familiar face in the place. Several young adipostates moseyed over, trying to strike up a conversation, but she didn't even turn their way. She stayed with Tim and the foodstuff in front of her, working her way through enough hi-cal items to do a full-blown adipost proud. Easy to see how she'd gotten to be the size she was: Delia would have been huge in any era.
He said as much to her halfway through the evening. "You may be right," she said between bites of oceanberry sweedcake, "but I'd rather live in a time when bodystyle is a matter of choice. When yer free to be anything, you don't haveta apologize for it. Years ago, I'd have been apologizing for my size, trying to deny it or the appetite that went with it."
Tim gestured towards an airborne holo of Rose Bradford, at the turn of the previous century, the heaviest woman on record. In the pre-biomed days, Miz Bradford's peak weight (545 kg. - or 1200 pounds, as they recorded it back then) would've kept her bedridden, though the holo disregarded such historical niceties in favor of a mobile, dancing image.
"Back then," he stated, "we didn't understand the mechanics of weight gain. Because it was something uncontrolled, the age placed the stigma of negligence on
everyone that it saw as fatter than they should be. Best way to rebut this charge was to put the blame back on those biological forces no one fully understood yet." He handed Delia a tube from the ceiling, grinned as she took a long chug of mocha liquical. "To be fair, the majority of super-sized men and women had grown fat for reasons more complicated than the pleasure of dining."
"I wouldn't have been one of 'em," Delia said, digging into another tray of soy stroganoff, upper arms flowing like the bubble in an old-fashioned carpenter's level as she raised each large bite to her mouth. "I love to eat, and I love to be creative about eating. To me, there's no better expression of this than an adipost body."
"Then why've you taken so long for the procedure?" Tim asked. "You must've reached the age of med consent at least five years ago."
"Five years? I'm flattered, but yer off by ten." She stopped to take another large quaff from her liquical tube. "I wanted to be the largest size possible the old-fashioned way - give myself a leg up. But lately, my body's been telling me it's time."
"I'm glad it waited until I was at clinic," Tim said.
"Me, too," Delia said, scooping up another large helping of soystuff.
They spent the next six nights the same way: Delia munching her way through humongous servings with Tim by her side. All part of prepping for her enhancement binges, she explained. And though Tim could've told her it didn't make much difference, he kept this to himself. It was too much fun watching her eat. While he was at work, he knew, she spent her time working on scripts and ingesting even more liquical.
He'd grown to appreciate the way her mind worked. The super-sized reg had a love of life that she best expressed through her gormandizing. But it also came across in her writing and the way she looked at people. A true urbanite, she loved diversity, and though she favored the avoirdupois layered bodystyle of the adipost, she preferred to live in a more generalized zone of the city. There, you saw fat adiposts, wire-thin anorekts, towering acromegs and every other form of biomedically remade adult.
The day of her enhancement, Delia was 5.4 kgs. larger than her initial weigh-in weight of 376. She came dressed in the same bodysuit that she'd worn to her interview, and while Tim knew that adipost-ready fashions were made from adjustable fabric, it looked as if the cloth were straining from the extra cageys. Just his imagination, he thought; that small a gain wouldn't even show on her frame. No use getting worked up about this before the procedure was even started.
She came into the clinic at 0730, ready to make a full day of it. To promote maximum binging, she hadn't even eaten breakfast. "I've been prepping for years," she said, as they stood outside the enhancement chamber, "but every adipost I know has had second thoughts just going through the process. Woke up this morning expecting to feel scared about this, and all I did was see you in my mind's eye."
First stage of the process went smoothly. When they'd finished, Delia was wheeled into her own room then dressed in a kimono. She came to within the hour, and while most of the newly enhanced took a few minutes to start their first transforming binge, she didn't hesitate. Rising from her cart, the enhanced reg grabbed a tray and wrapped her lips around a real meat hoagie. Her eyes registered the surprise of tasting genuine beef, then she started biting into that sandwich big time.
The real meat offerings were Tim's surprise, something that was usually left for the second binge and in much more limited amounts. The food wall was rowed with sandwiches; all around the cart were gurneys filled with real cheese dishes. Delia straddled the cart, belly resting ahead of her, and pulled goodies to her face. Forty-five minutes later, she'd decimated the room.
"How you feelin'?" Tim asked, as she started to ease herself onto her back. All around them, maintenance bots were clearing up the room.
"Still hungry," she said with a yawn. "But I can see why. When yer serving real meat, you can't do the bulk helpings that you can with soy or sweed."
Tim was thrilled: despite her statement, the enhanced woman had chewed her way through helpings that were standard quantities on every initial binge. Buzzing the crew in food prep, he doubled Delia's next order and then checked her stats. She'd gained close to 165 kgs. (330 pounds), which put her close to ol' Rose Bradford. Her breasts and belly broke through the close of her kimono, a hilly range of quivering flesh that rose and fell as she slept off her first binge. Her left arm dangled off the cart, upper arm sagging two inches below the join; her lower arm had started to segment in the middle.
Delia remmed only half an hour, barely enough time for Tim to get the room sufficiently stocked. The fare this time was less rarefied: casseroles and spinach pasta dishes, creamy veges and sweed cakes. While the helpings were healthy, Delia's capacity had grown with her body. Halfway into the binge, Tim found himself calling down to food prep to triple the next round.
When her second sweep ended, she'd put on 245 more kgs., over 600 pounds. At 880 kgs., she was already in the realm of the super-sized adipost, and here she was only halfway through the procedure! This was turning into a more amazing enhancement than even Tim had expected.
He still had no idea how far things were going to go, though.
Her third binge was a sprint. Lifting whole trays and just tilting the contents into her mouth, letting the food flow into her ravenous maw, Delia was like a living eating machine. She ate enough pastries to empty an adipost bakery. Halfway, she rolled off her cart and just stood within a cocoon of foodstuff. Her robe cast off, Delia unabashedly flaunted her smooth adipost flesh. Her belly draped ahead of her and hid her ankles; her breasts pushed ahead the full length of her arms. Behind her, Delia's thighs drooped halfway down her calves, which themselves sagged all about her feet.
Fourth wave was typically a liquid diet, the most efficient form of caloric consumption. Delia went at it with such ferocity that she drained two binges' worth of kegs. She finished 360 kgs. heavier, which, adding her gain of 320 from the third binge, weighed her in at 1460 kgs., close to 3200 pounds.
This was the biggest gain that Tim had ever witnessed in an enhancement: his estimation of her fantastic potential had been vindicated. No way was he gonna let this amazing woman out of his life! As they rolled in an adjustable futon, he moved to Delia's side. Though it took some stretching to reach her ear, he asked if he could see her after she woke up. She turned her magnificently jowled face towards him and said, "Why, you sound like we're almost done with this enhancement, Tim! I'm still hungry!"
"Yer kidding!" Tim gasped, as she settled back onto her futon and fell into rem. But, of course, she wasn't.
Delia went through three more binges, all liquid. Word of her accomplishment rapidly spread through BigWeigh. Clinic head Taylor Delta, a onetime reg actress who herself passed the metric ton line two years after her own enhancement, came down to see Delia once she'd reached her second ton. She was in the midst of her sixth wave, and with one look, the clinic head took Tim aside and said, "I may be wrong, but it seems to me like this young woman is binging herself into immobility!"
Looked like Miz Delta was correct. Delia had grown to the point where use of her legs was inconceivable. She'd discarded the futon after it'd collapsed under her. Her belly rested on the floor a leg length ahead of her and had nowhere to go but further out and up, pushing her breasts up ahead of her face. In back, Delia's cheeks pushed out so far that all she could do was sit on them. Forced out to the sides, unable to fully place her feet on the floor, her legs were each thicker than Delia had been when she'd first entered the clinic.
Her body had widened so much that her hips flared past her fingertips. Delia's upper arms ringed her like giant fleshy doughnuts, holding her arms at a ninety degree angle. The bottom of her face also rimmed around her, limiting her head's movement but not stopping her from swallowing even more liquical.
"Maxfed!" Tim whispered. And in the room's silence, Delia winked at him.
"That can't be," he decided. "Her body's supposed to adapt to its size, compensate for whatever gain she makes. She may look immobile, but she can't be!"
"Maybe not," the clinic head told him, "but I don't see how she can move around! She's got too much body for her limbs!" She turned toward the corridor. "Can't stop mid-enhancement," she decided. "Lemme know when it's over, and I'll see what we can do to keep Miz Cartland from holding us liable!"
By the seventh binge's finish, it was obvious that the clinic head was right. Weighing 2730 kgs. (6,000 lbs., Tim's mind calculated for the last time that day), Delia surpassed the eye's ability to take her in. Each part of her form was a visual feast in itself. Those breasts, each capable of sagging to the floor were it not for her belly. Those arms and legs, blending into her torso so their outlines appeared as just more folds within her torso. That paunch, resting out so far ahead of her that Tim could've stretched atop it, kissing Delia on the blubbery lips, resting between her cleavage, while his feet still sunk into her quavering flesh.
"Done!" she yelled happily, as she cast off her final feeding tube. She fell asleep sitting, her body holding her in this position. Tim paced around her the whole time, maintenance bots whizzing all around him. When Delia came out of rem, there was only the two of them, Tim holding a rapidly stitched together kimono in his arms.
"That for me?" she asked, looking at him over her breasts. Her voice had gained a sultry resonance within her maxfed frame. She no longer, he noticed, had to pant to keep her breath.
"Yup. But I've gotta warn ya; we weren't prepared for you to grow as big as you did, and the robe is pretty makeshift."
"Looks lovely," Delia told him. In response, Tim turned on the wall mirrors. And Delia got her first full look at her new body.
"Not as lovely as you," he said, as the adipost woman considered herself. "What you think?" he finally asked.
"It's not what I think," she said, after several long minutes. "It's what I feel. With you in the room, looking at me like this, I feel happier than any woman has a right to be." She cocked her head as much as her chins would let her, then said, "And I think I know how an adipost body compensates for being maxfed."
She wiggled her fat-spread fingers in mock helplessness, and the robe that was in Tim's hands suddenly rose like a multi-colored sail. It draped over Delia, pulled out of his grip and formed her shape in the air. Then it settled onto her shoulders.
"Telekinesis," Tim realized. "Your mind can move objects!"
"Not just objects!" Delia told him. And with a smile still on her face, she raised herself from the floor, belly lifting last, and lay back on a cushion of thought. With her legs spread to the max, her womanhood flashed before him. He stared at it, at the geography of her inner legs, at her dangling cheeks, at the crease on the underside of her upraised belly. He gazed beyond these and felt himself grow more arouse than any man had a right to be.
Tim shucked his biotech suit. Delia lifted him, taking him into her as easily as she'd earlier taken all those transforming calories. His body sank against her overwhelming belly flesh; her thigh folds pressed against his sides. As she called his name, it shook through her.
All he could see was the wall of her soaring forefront. What were his feet standing on? He didn't know, but he used it to push further into her. Delia moaned happily.
Locked in sexual congress with this massive sphere of adipost fleshiness, Tim was suddenly struck by an unsettling thought. What if she lost concentration? Would gravity reassert itself, and would he survive if it did? The thought was almost enough to soften him - or it would've been, if his lover hadn't chosen that moment to send part of her thoughts down to him.
He felt a sinuous lapping around the shaft of his erection. Peering over a mountainous thigh to the mirrored walls, he saw Delia's face. She was, he saw, moving her lips like they were wrapped around a feeding tube, and in that moment, the sheer magnitude of her developing mental powers hit him. Though he was penetrating her in an area that she couldn't even reach with her hands, she was simultaneously bringing him off with her mouth!
As for his fear of Delia losing concentration, she could no more fall than he could forget how to stand up. With this realization, he redoubled his exploration of her divine body. Her flesh was cool and yielding, gelatinously shuddering all around him. Overhead, her breasts and belly crested and waved, belly underside occasionally pressing into his face. It was like making love to a universe of sensuous flesh.
When he finally left the room, Tim found Taylor Delta waiting for him in the hall.
"Well?" the clinical head asked. "She talkin' litigation?"
Tim just smiled. And shook his head.
Delia Cartland left the clinic late that night. With a properly made kimono hanging below her feet, she departed without anyone who happened to see her even noticing that she wasn't really touching the ground. Her size and beauty were the wonder of all who saw her, but she'd already made up her mind to spend her life with Tim.
This she did. And two weeks after they'd settled into their adipost friendly living space, they sealed a nuptial contract. For years, Delia Ripley held the record in adipost enhancements, though the clinic never tried to capitalize on her remarkable gains. She embarked on a series of adipost romance scripts that made her an even bigger name in the entertainment biz.
She was at a size where she could eat all the time and never gain a cagey. Despite this, Delia continued to add weight, but not to the amazing degree of her enhancement. Though her mental powers grew even stronger, she didn't move around much, preferring instead to work on her life-long pursuits: writing and dining. Settled into her overwhelming body, she was able to telekinetically touch parts of herself that were inaccessible to her husband. And send her mind out to city zones that she'd never dared to visit in the flesh.
As for Tim, he continued at BigWeigh. He never did an enhancement as extraordinary as Delia's, but he continued to love his work. Whenever he felt close to being bored, he'd think back to his initial interview with his wife, and he'd be revitalized. He'd visualize her back in their loft, settled in front of her keyboard, mentally stroking it as foodstuff floated towards her great, wide mouth.
Delia Ripley: the largest known living adipost. Maxfed. And loving it.
Corrected version copyright © 1998 - Oakhaus Designs