The Recipients
She'd been waiting for someone like him - male, married, vaguely dissatisfied, attracted to a woman her size - for close to a week. But as soon he came within eyeshot, she knew he was the going to be the one. All across the city, other members of the family were scouting potential recipients, but she was the one who'd found them. The realization added to the taste of her ice cream sundae.
When Ira saw her, seated on a mall bench outside Baskin Robbins, savoring a banana split, it was like he'd come upon an impossible vision. In his experience, women her size didn't publicly eat ice cream. Yet here was this gorgeous blond, weighing at least 350 pounds, avidly polishing off what looked to be her second ice cream order.
The sight was so uncompromisingly sexy that he stood and gawked at her. She was somewhere in her early thirties, wearing a sun dress that clung to her great swelling middle and left her rounded calves uncovered. Her mouth was wide, forcing her cheeks to bulge past the edge of her ears; her chins quivered wondrously as she ate. He was contemplating this last when she looked over at him and smiled.
Ira's first inclination was to back off: look away and act as if he'd been just looking around, not staring at her. But something in her gaze kept him from following this instinct. He walked over to her and found himself looking into her greenish eyes.
"It's rude to stare," she told him, tilting her head back to drain chocolate sauce into her mouth.
Ira was too flustered to speak. Up close she was even more stunning, a fantasy image from his adolescence. She wiped her lips with a pair of napkins, tossed the empty container on the bench by its twin, and motioned him back. She slowly rose, her cumbrous body jiggling, took a deep breath and stepped up to him.
"Don't worry," she told him, "I'm not bothered by it. Not when it's done by someone who genuinely likes what he sees. You do like big women, don't you?"
Ira nodded, started to relax.
"Name's Jenna," she said, shaking his hand, her upper arm quivering deliciously. "You're married, I see." She led him into the ice cream parlor. "Is she a full-figured lady?"
The question brought Ira back to his reason for coming to Baskin Robbins in the first place.
"Came in to get her some ice cream," he said, looking over the fat-free display case. "I left her in the car."
"Light ice cream!" Jenna said, making a face as he made his order. "Concerned about her weight, is she?"
That, he thought, was an understatement. Robin had been futilely struggling to diet out of the lower range of Lane Bryant ever since he'd first met her.
"A little," he said, as he paid for two scoops in a carry-out cup. "She's a mid-sized woman who doesn't feel comfortable any larger."
"Yet you wouldn't mind if she were bigger," the fat woman said, and in that moment Ira felt a shiver course through his entire body. It wasn't often you get to hear someone speak your deep-held fantasy out loud, let alone by one who so epitomized that fantasy.
"No," he answered. "I guess I wouldn't."
He watched her order a waffle cone with jamocha almond fudge and whipped cream. Her belly flattened and spread against the display case provocatively, and for an instant he saw Robin's face superimposed over the fat woman's. She turned back toward him and started on her cone. "You better get that to your wife before it melts," she said, indicating his sack.
Jenna waddled alongside him to the mall exit, and Ira found himself slowing down to accommodate her.
"I come from a family of big eaters," she said, "and none of us worry about our size all that much. It's easy to get rid of, so why worry about getting fat again? I enjoy being different sizes. Who wants to be the same thing every day?"
"My wife does," Ira answered, "so long as it's a size six." They were at the exit now, and Ira was ready to leave. As attractive as she was, he was starting to feel uncomfortable by her openness.
"I could change that for you," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "If you like."
"Yeah, sure," he said, quickly looking outside to check if his wife could see them, and as he did, he felt the fat woman's hand leave his shoulder. When he turned back to her, she'd vanished. He was too relieved by her absence to wonder how a woman her size had disappeared so quickly.
Only a married man could feel so guilty over a three minute conversation, he thought as he made his way back to their car. Robin was listening to the radio with her head arched back and eyes closed. With her long black hair, full-fleshed hourglass figure and round pouting face, she looked like a model for BBW, a comparison he would never have made out loud to her. Though she'd teetered in the size twelve to fourteen range throughout their marriage, she still got weird when Ira stated that he liked her plump.
"Crowded at B-R?" she asked, once he got into the car and handed her the sack. Ira grunted noncommittally and started the car. He turned to back out, only to see the super-size blond blocking his exit. She put a fat finger to her lips, kissed it and blew the kiss their way. A van drove up, honked its horn, and she hefted herself through its passenger door.
Robin was too immersed in her ice cream to notice what had happened. As the van squealed off, she started into her fat-free treat like it was the first thing she'd been given to eat all day. Scooping out large mouthfuls, Ira's plump wife polished off her cup before they got a block away from the mall.
"Like it?" Ira asked, surprised to see her done so soon.
"I dunno," she answered, licking her full lips. "Seemed a little thin. Not as rich as real ice cream."
"I can believe that," he answered, though he never thought he'd hear his wife admit it.
"In fact," she continued, "I'm still kinda hungry. Maybe we should stop somewhere."
Now this was unusual, he thought. "Any place in particular?"
"There," she said, indicating an upcoming Burger King. So he hit the drive-thru and let his wife order.
When she'd finished, he couldn't believe his ears.
He'd never heard her order so much food: a trio of Whoppers, three large fries, three Junior Whoppers and a pair of large shakes.
"Sure you want this much?" he asked.
She looked at him like he'd just spoken in a foreign language. "It is a bit light," she finally answered, "but it'll make a good appetizer!"
Stunned, Ira paid for the order, found a parking space and stared as she started to dig into her first Whopper. He watched as she devoured everything in front of her with the same open appreciation he'd earlier admired in Jenna. She ate quickly but neatly, as if unwilling to let even a droplet of catsup escape her. The sight was like something from his youngest fantasies, and though he should have been worried to see his wife acting so uncharacteristically, it was too compelling for him to question it.
"Not bad," she said as she slurped the last of her second shake. "How much cash you got on you?" She turned to toss her last onto the back seat, giving Ira his first view of her torso. His wife's belly was round and taut, straining against her jeans; her thighs looked like they'd spread an extra inch on each side. In the space of half an hour, she'd added maybe thirty pounds to her body!
He roused himself and answered her question. He had, he discovered, about twenty-five dollars.
"That'll do for now," she told him. "But we'll probably have to hit the ATM later." She leaned over and turned the ignition. "KFC has a great buffet," she said. "Why don't we go check it out?"
It took Robin over an hour to do the "checking." She went through the buffet five times, piling her styrofoam plates high with chicken fried steak in creamy gravy, mashed potatoes, macaroni salad and biscuits. She devoured enough original recipe pieces to comprise two chickens; she almost did the same for barbecue.
When she finished, his wife was at least fifty pounds heavier - no longer chubby and fetching, but fat and lovely like a smaller version of Jenna. Her growing paunch had filled in more than any other part of her body. No more hourglass figure, Ira thought without much regret.
"What now?" he asked, as they headed back to the car. Wiping her pudgy fingers with a wet napkin, Robin considered his question.
"Let's just drive," she said, finally. "It's a lovely evening."
And so they spent the evening driving around town, stopping regularly to stock up on food at the nearest drive-thru, hitting the automatic tellers when they needed more cash. They toured each strip of fast food joints in town, hitting different franchises each time - Arby's, MacDonald's, Taco Bell, Long John Silver's, Dairy Queen - as well as a few local burger and hot dog stands. Ira tried to guesstimate the number of calories his wife consumed (he recalled reading in a tabloid once of a 420 pound woman who'd worked her way through over 30,000 calories in a night of constant bingeing), but he was blocked by his ignorance of caloric measurements. He bet she'd beat that tabloid gormandizer, though.
Robin continued to expand as she ate. As phenomenal as her consumption was, it was nothing compared to the way she ballooned. She was growing like a character in some cautionary cartoon on the "evils of gluttony," swelling to a size in excess of any gain she should have realistically made. As if to hammer the unreality home, her clothes kept up with her, hugging her billowy form revealingly.
Even stranger, she was unbothered by the mammoth change in her physique. To see her nonchalantly stuffing herself, you'd think she'd always been obese.
It was somewhere after ten o'clock when Robin called a halt to their fast food run. She'd given up on her seat belt hours ago and had pushed her seat back as far as it could go. Even so, it was a tight squeeze for her in their compact car. Tossing her second Jumbo DQ malted empty into the back seat, she patted her belly happily and told her husband to drive home.
"But maybe," she added shyly, a tone of uncharacteristic coquetry in her voice, "you could hit Kroger's and get me some ice cream?"
"Sure," he said.
He walked behind her to their apartment, two sacks crammed with Breyer's in his arms, and admired her new size. She was in the mid-400's, larger than the mysterious Jenna and even more exquisite. Her breasts were in the 50DD range, bulging atop a paunch that divided into two fat rolls that exceeded the upper sixties at their fullest width. Her thighs and legs had also developed magnificently, with folds that were visible through her denim and great draping bulges covering her knees.
Robin settled into their living room love seat, taking up most of it, as Ira unloaded the ice cream into the freezer. He'd left her a carton of coffee ice cream and a wooden mixing spoon, but he didn't expect it to last long. As he packed the freezer, he considered everything that had taken place. The encounter with Jenna. Her crazy offer to "change his wife." Robin's unnatural eating binge and growth. Her uncharacteristic acceptance of her sudden obesity. What had he stumbled into?
He soon found out. As he carried two cartons of Breyer's natural vanilla into the living room, the door buzzed. He opened it to find: a slender blond in a tight-fitting familiar sundress.
"Hi!" she chirped. "How's your night been?" Ira recognized Jenna's voice immediately. Shocked, he stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him.
"You really did it!" he gasped. "Made my wife even bigger than you were!"
"Of course," Jenna answered. "After all, she started close to ninety pounds heavier than me!"
"But why doesn't Robin notice what's happened?" he asked.
"It's something we do," she shrugged. "I can't explain it any more than I can explain how a snake hypnotizes its prey. As far as Robin's concerned, she's always been the size she is. You'll get used to it, too. Makes things convenient for us."
"'Us?'"
"The rest of my family," the slim blond explained. "I told you I came from a family of huge eaters; we all have the ability to pass our weight onto suitable recipients."
It was then Ira noticed the large shadows growing larger at the bend in the hall. "Both of my sisters," she continued, as a pair of voluminous twins at least a hundred pounds heavier than the fat Jenna waddled into sight, "and our daughters! And, of course, our husbands and sons!"
"Husbands?" Ira gasped.
"Be fair, man," Jenna said. "Men gain and lose weight differently than women!"
Ira gaped as the hall filled with obese figures. Before he could think what to do, a massive man who must have weighed over 600 pounds blew a kiss his way. Then a blubbery arm appeared over the fat man's shoulder and made a similar wave.
The sisters passed around him and made their way into the apartment.
Ira felt his appetite start to build with an intensity that he had never known before.
"We all love eating and growing fat," Jenna explained to him, as she led him back into the apartment. "There's nothing like it." He distantly registered the presence of the two massive sisters as they stood before his wife, but he was too distracted to follow their exchange. "But every few years we like to start from scratch."
A trio of super-sized teenaged girls had also entered the room; another vastly fat man stood and blocked the apartment doorway, waiting for his turn with Ira. He turned and saw two fat boys coming in from the back door, cartons full of fast food in their arms.
"Sit and eat," the slim blond told him, and she gestured towards the dining room table as it was filled with sacks from every restaurant they'd visited that night. Ira didn't need to be told twice. He sat, bit into his first Big Mac, and lost himself in the sensation of nonstop gorging. Each taste came through so clearly, it was overwhelming. Across the room, his wife accepted her first Baskin-Robbins ice cream cake from one of the twins.
They ate, feeling both stuffed and unfillable, and they grew huge together. Jenna and her family kept them fed throughout the night.
The family moved them out of the apartment that Sunday, before either grew too big to get through the doors. Robin had passed half a ton by then and had to be squeezed through sideways: her paunch flowed around the door jamb as she slowly sidled through. It hung halfway down past her knees, jouncing so vigorously with every movement that her jeans only covered the lowest fourth of her belly apron. Where once she would have been appalled at her physical condition, all she could think of w as the big meal that was waiting for her at the family's home. Behind her, her super-sumo-shaped husband patiently waited for her to get through the door.
Robin and Ira were taken to a house in an upscale, very private part of town. Ira called his job on Monday and resigned. He'd never been particularly happy at work, had only kept at it as a source of income, so it was no great loss. By Tuesday, he only dimly recalled his former occupation.
Once the family got them to their own place, they began to feed the pair in earnest. Draping them both in robes that allowed for greater comfort, they set them up in a private room and introduced them to the older members if the family.
By week's end, Jenna's family was as thin as it wanted to be. Both Robin and Ira had grown to the point where they wouldn't be leaving their private room - or indeed moving very much at all. Placed upon a pair of hydraulically supported tiers, they sat with their massive bodies holding them in upright position. Backsides spreading so far behind their backbones that leaning back was inconceivable, bellies radiating a yard beyond their fat-swaddled feet, they sat and waited for their hourly meals. The overwhelming hunger they'd both been feeling had abated, but they'd grown used to eating and couldn't conceive of doing anything else with the bulk of their time. Fortunately, the family was mindful of its responsibilities; they kept the couple fed and attended to their other needs as well.
If Ira could've remembered how much their life had changed, he'd been astounded by the sight of his wife. Grown beyond her second ton, she had widened to the point where her fingers could barely stretch past her seated hips. Her upper arms had matched the spread of her torso, limiting her lower arms' movement considerably. Her legs were uncovered by her robe and seemed to vaguely swell in womanly fashion, but it was impossible to see where the join was. Her belly obscured both knees and indeed made clothed modesty unnecessary on all but her breasts, which had by themselves taken on enough weight to slenderize the twin sisters. She kept the front of her robe open, proudly exposing her draping paunch, but her mams were fully covered and well protected by the two feet of robe wedged between breasts and belly.
Robin's head sat perched atop her prodigious body like a volcanic island in the middle of the ocean. It was there, but one sensed that its visibility was precarious. Her chins had grown and widened so much that they pushed her head back, forcing her to look upwards. Her cheeks forced her eyes into slits; her protruding upper lip would have blocked her nostrils if she'd been less pug nosed. Her hair was kept up in a bun with a bow. Left unfettered, it kept getting caught in the folds of her back and shoulders.
Ira's view of his wife was limited. Pinned by his own substantial weight, the only way he could take her fully in was the room's mirrored ceiling. He loved what he saw, though: a globe of overwhelming womanfat spreading besides him. Placed side by side, their contact was limited but still exquisite. He'd stretch his left arm past his torso to intertwine his fingers with hers between meals, and he'd feel a happiness he'd never known before. Up on a mounted big-screen monitor, they'd watch tape after tape of mouth-watering food commercial.
Each family member took their turn feeding both of them, alternating between pureed meals in a feeding tube and something more munchable. The latter was admittedly harder to give, as it necessitated holding the food to their mouths, leaning against and sinking into their blubbery torsos. But nobody was about to deny the duo any part of the pleasure of eating. It was, after all, the bond that held them all together.
And so Ira and Robin lived together in a manner exceeding any of his forgotten youthful fantasies. Once a week, they'd eat with the entire family seated around them in a ring of tables overflowing with food. Both family and recipients happily gorged themselves while Jenna talked about some of the house's other occupants, couples living in rooms nearby who'd grown over twice the size of the mountainous duo.
"Someday that could be you," she'd tell the two, patting a stomach that had been flat weeks before but had already grown slightly pot bellied. Though neither of them fully understood her words, they both felt a thrill rush through their accumulated tonnage and would redouble their efforts on their feeding tubes. Thanks to the family, Ira and Robin had both replaced lives of vague dissatisfaction with lives of purpose.
To eat. To grow.
And receive.
Copyright 1993 - Oakhaus Designs