View Full Version : Sadie’s Incredible Exploding Maids - by Lardibutts (SSBBW) Fant, Dom, Immob,~XWG)
03-13-2007, 08:04 PM
(SSBBW (multiple) Fantasy, Dom, Immobility, XWG) - some teens will do anything to get out from under what they see as ovrer-controlling adult domination
Author's note: This is a really stupid fantasy I have developed over a year or two
So how did she do it?
Exactly how did Big Aunt Sadie manage to seduce not just me (Gemma Masocci), but a whole load of other good looking eighteen year olds into competing for the privilege of being blown-up into immobility?
Here is some sort of explanation for why I’m proud to be one of
SADIE’S INCREDIBLE EXPLODING MAIDS
“Substantial remuneration awaits any applicant able to demonstrate creativity and innovation in coping with the ever decreasing mobility currently experienced by an exceptionally well founded lady.
A number of posts are on offer and every successful applicant is guaranteed considerably enhanced career prospects. All posts will initially entail full time residence at the Advertiser’s villa in a secluded part of the Isle of Caprio.
Apply enclosing photo to box no. 593 Corriere di Napoli”
Rocco guffawed as he read this out aloud to the handful of students at the coffee stand.
We were a good looking bunch posing about outside our local technical college on the outskirts of Naples, meticulously kitted out in all the latest designer gear that Italian youth culture demands. We were supposed to be comparing notes on our preparation for the morning classes. However, as usual, the boys hijacked the session for another of their endless attempts to get inside our knickers.
“So why are we all bothering with all this crap when there’s a much easier life on offer over there?” Sandro asked, gesturing across at the island hazy on the horizon.
“Yeah, but what would you have to do for the money?” Franca wondered.
“Sounds like it would be hauling some old biddie in and out of her wheelchair all day long” said Vincenzo, “just crummy women’s work! So what’s creative and innovative about that? And where would the ‘considerably enhanced career prospects’ come from?”
“It’ll mean just sitting looking at the sea all day and getting fat like the boss!” Rocco said signalling that the topic was now closed.
I glanced across at my sister Tina. She’d put down her cappuccino cup carefully and was looking wistfully across at me. I knew what those beautiful almond shaped eyes were signalling: utter boredom with Rocco, Sandro, and all the others ….. and with the unending dismal prospect of years and years of study ahead.
“Just remember that box number - 593” Tina hissed at me as we entered into the College.
I watched her tiny elfin form slipping down the corridor ahead of me in her spangled ballet shoes, a good 6” of spare midriff over low cut jeans, not an ounce of spare tanned body, not a wiggle in her rapid snaking walk. And at seventeen I was not only a year younger but even slighter in build at only 4’3”.
Both of us had prominent pelvic bones, neither had tits, both had spade shaped faces and those big slanting almond shaped eyes, far too big for our tiny frames. She had rich chestnut, almost black hair, falling dramatically to brush her shoulders; mine I’d had cut aggressively spiky and bleached.
"So is she really serious about moving out?" As I thought more about this I was very careful to keep repeating 593 to myself.
Perhaps like me, she too was thinking about the endless arguments we Masocci sisters were having back home – in an all woman household. The two of us were supposed to start training to be pharmacists.
Since they considered doctoring to be men’s work, the two elderly aunts we lived with insisted on pharmacy offering a proper career path for young women. To us it seemed we were destined for years of training merely to end up as shop assistants. Our aunts must once have thought old age would be visits from cherubic grandchildren, instead of constant arguments with high-spirited nieces.
Like last night: it was only just past one o’clock when we got back from clubbing, but there were both aunts, hair in curlers, sitting by a stone dead telly, waiting, spoiling for the usual shouting match.
Aunt Carla opened “I wonder why we didn’t leave you out there on the streets after your good for nothing dad went off. Why did we bother making every sacrifice trying to bring you up in a decent God fearing family”?
“OK! OK! Look aunty, why don’t we go and find an apartment and move out,” said Tina, putting a protective arm round me,
“You have absolutely no idea how much you would need to earn to pay out that sort of money and survive,” Aunt Paula spat back.
“We could try getting it baby sitting,” Tina replied, “so relax and go to bed the two of you. By the way: do you realise your hair will come out all wrong the way you’ve put in those curlers?”
An hour later we did all go to bed. . . . . . in tears.
Three weeks later, after a whole lot more Vesuvius sized arguments with the aunts, Tina and I were down by the Castello Nuovo in Napoli, about to drag our suitcases onto the hydrofoil at the Stazione Marittima.
An elegant man, mid 40ish and greying, in a yachting cap and blazer was waiting to greet us on our arrival forty minutes later at Caprio. He said we should call him Carlo. Treating us with old style deference, he took our cases and handed us down into his stylish Riva speedboat, all retro varnished wood and chrome fittings. We roared off.
Carlo pointed out all the extravagant villas of the rich and famous along the way until, under tall overhanging cliffs, we rounded the top of the island. Gesturing ahead to dramatic stacks of rock sticking out of the sea, Carlo shouted
“That’s where we are going. Welcome to the Villa Immobile !”.
Close up, the setting was spectacular. The villa was actually slung between several tall stacks of rock over the sea. Cutting the engine, Carlo ran expertly up to a floating wooden landing stage lying in cool shadow right under the structure. Courteously he disembarked us, then ushered us through an entrance door and into the lift.
“The others are looking forward to meeting you. They are waiting up on the roof terrace to welcome you to your first lunch. By the way, everyone will be taking lunch in their bikinis, so you might wish to step into this rest room here to freshen up and change. You can either choose to wear what you find laid out there or what you’ve brought with you. Oh! And you will find two envelopes in there for you with full details of your promised initial payments. Do please remember to pick them up.”
He carried our cases into the elegantly fitted out powder room, indicated the envelopes then just to make sure, slipped them into our luggage himself. There were a number of bikinis laid out on a chaise-langue, we looked at one another and grinned. They were a whole load cooler than anything we’d brought. Moments later, looking a million dollars in g-strings and minimalist tops, we strutted out with Carlo onto the huge roof terrace.
To say that what we saw rendered us speechless would be an understatement.
First the scale was vast!
The roof was like an airfield, all faced in vitreous blue tiles, spanning between the rocky tops of the islands. And as far as we could tell there seemed nothing to stop you just wandering off the edge to drop into the sea far below.
Then there was the welcoming party of 12 other girls. To our surprise we found Franca was one of them. She’d been one of our college gang the day Rocco spotted the advert. She said she’d arrived a few days before, though all she could manage to do was jabber at us, over and over, “this will completely blow your minds”.
It seemed the longest anyone had been here was three or four days, all were bikini clad and clearly impatient to tuck into the absolutely mountainous buffet laid out in the shade of a pale green canvas sail. And true enough; we too felt ravenous after the journey.
Then, as we all attacked the food, it dawned on Tina and me at precisely the same time that we were easily the thinnest girls present in our bikinis. Scrawniest would be the better word for it; we were being jostled by some very wobbly backsides hips and thighs all scrabbling to get at the food.
Two hours later some of the girls were still at it. One was wolfing down soppa inglesi with her bare hands, others were turning to plates of pasta that had somehow been overlooked. The others were spread out asleep or lying back on sun loungers around the sunken pool dreamily caressing distended stomachs.
“Well young Piccolo,” said Tina, examining her own stomach, “we’ve done well here so far. Its completely bloody amazing, don’t you think?”
Before I could reply, Carlo reappeared, clad now only in yachting cap and long shorts.
“Its good to see you’ve enjoyed our little welcoming lunch.
“Now I must take you to introduce to my wife Sadie, before showing you your rooms. You will want to rest, I am sure. The others always do, ” he gestured, smiling paternally at the snoozing forms.
He led us back inside and into the lift. Down below we emerged into a darkened foyer beyond which we came right up against a huge wall of glass. It seemed at first like an aquarium but in fact was the side of a gigantic pool two or three floors high. We approached and looked up towards the light. Above our heads we could see a cluster of giant beach balls hanging just under the surface, but nothing else.
“Please meet my wife Sadie” Carlo announced proudly.
Where? We blinked. My God! He was talking about the beachballs. They were humanoid; they were flesh! Then we saw how some sported great nipples while there were a couple of gigantic navels on the lower spheres.
“Ah yes! You’ve noticed, she has Maria, one of her maids with her at the moment. They enjoy relaxing together. Now you must come up and meet them!”
We got back in the lift and re-emerged at the water’s edge.
“Darling, I’ve brought Tina and Gemma to see you.”
One of the two balloon like assemblies of fat that were sucking on tubes opened its eyes. It surveyed us critically, then ejected its tube.
“It looks like they’ve a lot of catching up to do honey.” we heard it utter, fighting for breath, in a deep deep voice …..”Maria! Hey! Wake up you great pudding.”
Mounds of blubber jounced in the water as Sadie attempted to stir Maria into consciousness. “Take a look at Carlo’s latest recruits.”
Maria’s eyes flickered over us momentarily before there was a grunting sound and her sucking resumed.
“Maria has actually grown far bigger than my wife recently so they are now both now in need of constant attention.” Carlo said with obvious concern, ushering us away. “There is always a lot of work for us here as you can see”.
We could say nothing, we were too smacked.
It was slowly dawning on both of us what was meant by
“Substantial remuneration awaits applicants………. able to demonstrate creativity and innovation………. in coping with the ever decreasing mobility…………. experienced by an exceptionally well founded lady”
Where on earth would we begin?
Fortunately for us Carlo acted like he had the whole thing under control. Now he was reassuringly showing us two wonderful interconnected rooms, each with its own enormous white bathroom. Both rooms had a bed at least 2.5 metres square. Our cases lay already partially unpacked. Each room had wide doors opening onto a glorious balcony. Come to think of it, throughout the villa the doors were all wide, double swing; usually they opened automatically.
Carlo said the next engagement, although not essential, would be pre dinner drinks from 6.30pm. So much would be new for us here, he said, it was important we should just concentrate on relaxing. I noticed he touched us both - stroking our upper arms as he said this - before leaving.
As he went Tina tore her bikini off and posed for a bit in front of the mirror before flinging herself on my huge bed.
“OK picco, so you’ve seen your new boss. And you’ve sure got a long way to grow before you can blow that great cow out of the water!” Then she laughed, gripping her bulging gut as she did so.
“Yeah! And did you hear how he said Maria is even bigger! She’s only the bloody maid!” We both laughed, feeling one another’s stomachs.
“Still its better than boring biology classes”
“With Rocco, Sandro and all the other Dickheads you mean?”
We laughed again.
“So is Carlo after our bodies do you think?” I asked big sister.
“From my point of view it all depends what’s in those envelopes.” Tina said, sliding over the bed to reach at my envelope sticking out of the case pocket.
She went all quiet after I’d heard her rip it open.
“OK big mouth so tell me what it says!” I said, lying flat on my back, eyes closed.
There was no sound. I felt her push the paper into my hand.
I swung the sheet above my head and opened my eyes. I read out aloud
An initial payment of €100,000 has been credited to a new account in the name of Ms Gemma Masocci opened at the Monte Riva Internet Bank by Sadie’s Maid Services”.
Tina had to shout what it meant through to me from next door as she’d rushed through to find and check her envelope.
“As of now we’re collectively worth €200,000 sis!” Tina exclaimed, continuing ”and my piece of paper goes onto to say we’re not expected to do anything over the next few days. ‘Please just relax and enjoy yourselves settling in’.
"Signorina Piccolo, I’d sell my body to Carlo for a whole lot less, what about you?”
I fished some chocolate bon bons from beside my bed, placed them on the bed between us and we stuffed the lot down ourselves while lying looking up at the ceiling. In shock, we were simply eating for comfort; we were unable to make sense of anything anymore.
(continued in post 5 of this thead)
03-14-2007, 08:14 AM
Off to a great start, can't wait to read more.
Hooked again, Lardibutts it is a joy reading your works.
03-14-2007, 07:40 PM
Thank you, but you are making me blush with your comment.
Actually this piece is about to go downhill rapidly into overblown crass fantasy. Its weird, cos I'd really like to write those subtle "slight weightgain" stories about closely observed office colleagues.
03-14-2007, 07:44 PM
I awoke to a knocking at the door.
I called out “Si!” and a plump girl in a maid’s uniform wheeled in a trolley.
“Hi welcome! Sorry to wake you, I’m Nicoletta, we thought you might be feeling like some tea”.
Tina was still curled up asleep naked. I stretched while examining myself carefully in the mirror. I checked out my sticky out pelvic bones, my well defined rib cage under scarcely noticeable nipples. I touched myself where Carlo had stroked my upper arm feeling only the flexing of a tiny bicep.
Twisting and looking over my shoulder I saw a bony back terminating in a tiny young boy’s bottom and non existent hips.
I’d been tucking into Nicola’s tea trolley as I did this. Now I realised I’d put away five of the glorious pastries leaving only one for the sleeping Tina. There was tea with lemon and I poured myself a cup. As I carried it to the balcony I passed the open door to Tina’s room and glimpsed an identical tea trolley parked already for Tina. So I doubled back, compulsively grabbed “my” last lemon custard filled patisserie and called out to Tina to wake up before I ate her tea.
Tina joined me with her plate of pastries on my balcony.
“Getting well into it now Picco. Putting meat on those bones I see!”
“Have you checked your frig? It would be big enough to walk in if it wasn’t stuffed full of ice cream!”
“Hi! Come up and join us”.
We looked up to see Franca beckoning to us. “We’re just having a little get together before tonight’s big meal”
She was still in her bikini but with a wrap over.
I decided I’d go in a skinny top over my flouncy mini. Tina opted for bikini and wrap.
There were four girls missing from the lunch party (still sleeping it off they said) but the rest were in high spirits and like Franco and Tina still bikini clad. They were quaffing a creamy drink and busy putting away bar snacks.
We felt more accepted now.
Franca was keen to compare notes about bank balances and our initial reaction to big boss Sadie.
“She’s ever so nice when she’s out of the water and sitting next to you. We went to see her last night before dinner”.
“This is a delicious cool drink for the evening by the way” she said pouring a big half litre glass for me. “It seems to be hugely fattening.”
“So does everything round here,” I said, quaffing nearly half the jug in delight at its glorious creamy sharpish taste. What is it called?
“I don’t know but its what Sadie and everyone spends all day sucking out of their tubes.”
Tina called across “We ought to call it Kilokwik!”.
“Its actually on tap in my frig” said Franca, “I bet you’ll find it in yours too!”
“It looks like you’ve already stacked on quite a bit,” I said, nudging against her plump bare buttock.
“I was going to say the same about you kiddo. Your hollowed out pit of a stomach is already bulging.”
Tina’s certainly looks bigger”, I said, giggling, “so does mine look like that?”
Franca replied by filling my glass and moving on to hug someone’s already ballooning midriff. I began circulating around the other girls, snacking and drinking more half litres of the Kilokwik with them.
We had to change for dinner but the Kilokwik had made me very squiffy so Tina had to brusquely pack me into a minimally cut little black silk frock I’d brought with me. She zipped herself into something ruby red and stylish.
Another fat maid arrived to lead us to the dining room. She led us on with her arse. It was colossal, a corridor-wide arse. Her erotic dancing blubber had us mesmerized. The threads on the back seam of her maid’s uniform were fast unravelling as the unfair forces of outrageously giant buttocks jerked it violently first up one way then down the other. She was truly spectacular, enormously tall as well as very wide. She was also very black, she said she was called Leila and came from Nigeria.
“I’ve been here six months now,” she said, “it just goes on getting better everyday”.
A hubbub greeted us on entering the lofty dining hall. There was a long table running its length with some clearly very big ladies present, seated on sturdy benches. A mountain range of flesh dominated everything at the far end.
We were once again led up to Sadie who had been arranged among her heavyweights for dinner.
As we squeezed our way between them, I wondered how many of these mounds were still capable of moving under their own power. These really big parties were arranged against a great green glass wall as a backdrop that I found separated us from Sadie’s glass walled pool area beyond.
In such “a creative and innovative” setting it had not been necessary to manoeuvre the immobile Sadie and her biggest maid more than a few feet from their poolside.
On dry land, Sadie could not actually see us directly because of the way her enormous breasts, upper arms and chins heaped up over her gigantic belly. Able to look only upwards, she used a TV monitor to communicate with us.
Standing next to her, I could appreciate how Sadie’s belly, resting on the floor, was actually taller than me. She was beautifully turned out, dressed in a kind of openwork white glazed linen rather like an old fashioned art deco table cloth. It was very skilfully cut to accommodate her rolling landscape of blubber. I ran my hand across, admiring its decoration. She grunted approvingly at this and asked us to give her a hug and a kiss.
Someone placed a stool for me and I fell into endless softness at the attempt, throwing out my arms to prevent myself disappearing. But I managed to plant a kiss on top of one bare dome of breast. I heard her give a deep chuckle of pleasure at this.
“Hey! I never got that close,” Franca said enviously when we joined the others at the foot of the table.
“So have you noticed we sit in order of size?” She whispered. “And just look where you are.”
She slid a jug of Kilokwik over to me: “So get this down you and start moving up a few places at table”
The maids we’d already met reappeared in a procession of fat maids bringing out the first course.
Franca nudged me “Now sit back and enjoy the parade!”
Of course the two we’d already seen turned out some of the smallest. The larger ones could scarcely walk. Each bore a dish; some shared a giant dish between them.
“So which fat maid is going to explode first?” Franca whispered excitedly.
“It’ll happen when one of the big ones tries to bend over,” said Lisa, she was one of the plump girls, missing from the earlier party, who I’d watched seriously over–eating at lunch time.
One maid had her short skirt split open down her thigh as she walked past us. The useless bits of fabric flapped aside as all her thigh blubber burst to freedom drooping down over her balloon like calves. She just giggled at us, and wiggling coquettishly, continued on her way.
“That’s not counted,” whispered Lisa. “My money is on one of the big ones at the back. You just watch big Alexis over there; she looks critical tonight”.
As fast as they arrived, the dishes of soups, creams and pastas were rapidly slurped up by the fat girls seated at table. Carlo was busying himself everywhere with supervising proceedings. The bread had run out and more was sent for. Counting both diners and maids, I judged there were fifty of us present. Lisa pointed out there would be another ten girls busy as chefs in the kitchens.
Meanwhile big Alexis had finally rolled her way to nearly the head of the table amongst the really big guns and lent forward to place her tureen on the table.
Lisa was right about her.
The hubbub died away; now everyone was watching.
As Alexis positioned her legs further apart to place the tureen, her arse expanded, dramatically enlarging as it re-arranged itself, counterbalancing the great weight of her bending forward. The maid’s black uniform went on straining. Ever more aggressively her backside thrust back. Suddenly the black material went critical, changing texture, becoming almost like shiny black tissue as it …
Blam! She’d blown up perfectly.
Everyone cheered. She stood looking dazed and proud but at the same time every part of her enormously fat luxurious body flushed a deep shade of beetroot. They picked the shreds of her costume away from her then helped her to sit down naked at the top end. She’d completed her work for the night and would be rewarded with a well-earned treat. At home among the group of immobiles and near immobiles she was specially hand fed. Eventually she became comatose through over eating, Towards the end of the third course I saw her collapse, slumping over a giant buttock parked alongside.
Three other maids also managed to explode during the evening. One (smaller girl) was right by us when it happened. We’d noticed how she’d been stuffing herself constantly even while she was serving. We watched during the last course as she paused, adjusted her feet to steady herself; and first sucked her belly in, then blew out very sharply.
Off she went. Sputt!
Her belly blasted its way through her dress and little pinny. She winked at us sticking her proud belly out even further at the assembly before settling down to scoff everything she’d been carrying.
“That’ll have earned her a big bonus,” said Lisa.
”Yeah” said another big girl, “and just look at Carlo’s face whenever it happens. It really turns him on. The first time when Alexis exploded did you see his reaction? He got himself well and truly trousered. He had to go off to clean up and get changed”.
"They say Sadie got the whole operation going just to keep him happy.”
Well I don’t for a moment believe that. She gets an even bigger kick out of exploding her maids than he does”.
One really big girl was obliged to undergo a forfeit after dropping her bowl of dessert as she left the servery.
Hanging her head, she came to stand at the bottom of the table by us with everyone chanting Drink! Drink!
A litre of Kilokwik was brought and she quaffed it straight down defiantly, then another. As the litres poured into her, we saw her slowly disintegrate. She looked increasingly squiffy and glazed. After five litres we all could see how her belly was standing out hard away from her. It was the sixth that did it!
Kerbang - out of her dress she blew.
She still managed to finish off the sixth jug slowly; then she just laid down beside us to sleep it off.
I too was asleep by the end. God I’d eaten more than I had ever done in my life before.
Lisa helped me come to my senses; she too was only just reviving as I came round.
“We have to rub some oil into our bellies” she said, “it helps with the stretch marks”.
She pointed some out on a trolley nearby. I rubbed it well in round her then on me. It felt so good, it really loosened things up. Afterwards I even found room to help myself to several pieces of the Ricotta cake nearby.
“Pass the rest over to me” Lisa said “We need the strength to get back.”
I rubbed more oil into Tina, still asleep opposite, though Franca had already left.
The three of us left the extraordinary scene, inert figures draped everywhere amidst the wreckage of the banquet.
Tina and I stumbled back to my room. Just as predicted, I found the Kilokwik tap in my frig and poured us a couple of cool glasses to take to bed with us. We curled up together cradling one another’s rock hard stomachs.
That’s how our first day of frenetic weight gain ended.
to be continued
03-15-2007, 06:22 PM
we settle in
I honestly can’t tell you what magic existed in that villa. Within a couple of days, Tina and I were hard at it frenetically expanding along with all the other girls. We were eating like we’d never ever done before, with just one idea in our heads. We just wanted to notch up gains quickest and to show off our rapidly transforming bodies, flaunting them in the most outrageous ways we could think of.
Were we all drugged? Had Carlo slipped something in our food and drink that very first lunch? None of us were ever aware of anything like that.
Perhaps it was the huge money we’d suddenly all walked into. We felt like footballers’ wives. Overnight we’d acquired new bank accounts with balances beyond our wildest dreams. Uncle Carlo managed these for us, carefully emphasising to us the importance of prudence.
In theory we were free to spend how we chose, jetting off to wherever we wished on spending sprees. In reality the “stay at home and shop on the web while you eat” urge always won because of the intense competition between us. All the effort of going away and travelling meant you’d probably lose weight only to return to find the others way out in front of you. Moreover everyone knew how adept old uncle Carlo could be in constantly dangling lavish material inducements in return for even greater striving for personal growth achievements and targets.
All I can remember now is the initial shock of it all, the strange realisation, as we met the others that we, in fact, were the odd ones out.
Most vivid of all was the profound jolt of seeing Sadie herself for the first time, a series of incandescent globes, like bubbles, suspended above us in her pool.
Within a couple of days we were deeply embedded; blissfully contented. The pampered lifestyle Carlo had introduced us to suited us to perfection. The Villa Immobile had begun to swallow us.
At the evening party marking the end of the first week we were issued with our maids costumes. We were expected to model them at dinner. Mine hung completely off me, I looked like a waif. I was very distraught. Big Leila comforted me by running her hands around me saying she knew exactly how she could fill it after two weeks and would even manage to blow it off after three. If I wanted, I could easily do the same she declared. She said she’d be only too pleased to help.
Carlo overheard this. He kissed her, saying good girl and fondled her luscious backside. Then turning to me, he said quietly he’d really make it well worth my while if I pulled it off.
After a week of stuffing we began to notice results. A squeak from Tina woke me one morning. She’d been passing my mirror on her way to my bathroom (most nights we’d been sleeping together). Looking at herself sideways she’d noted not only the increasing bulge of belly we’d started the first night but also a pair of soft breasts developing behind her nipples. I sat up and looked at her critically. I pointed to a noticeable growth of new bottom. Remembering her snaking walk down the corridor of the Tech, she now had a definite bubble of buttock form as she moved, hefting first one side then the other. I got her to swing her hips around a bit and chuckled.
I sprang alongside her to inspect myself. The same burgeoning belly bulge (though it started higher than Tina’s) and yes, I too, had breast fat. Looking behind me I’d also fattened around the back but it wasn’t bum, these were lovehandles. What I also enjoyed was the feel of softer arms, my muscles no longer felt like knots on a rope
We hugged and, getting squiffy on Kilokwik, decided to shower together. It was the very first time, (but definitely not the last) that we got off playing with one another. We had just discovered for ourselves the principal pleasure that drove life for the Villa Immobile’s incredible exploding maids.
After two weeks it was becoming plain how we would shape up. Franca, lucky girl, was taller than us at 5’6” and she was blond. With blossoming breasts, she was exhibiting a full hourglass figure.
Tina was developing a protuberant arse. It had grown to the extent she now enjoyed swaying it provocatively. It seemed she would become a pear, very desirable to me, but, as she put it: she’d be all arse and no tits.
I was not at all pleased with what was happening to me. I was going to be nothing but belly, I’d got a prominent Michelin Man ring developing. True, my tits and other parts had fleshed out but there was no mistaking the significance of my big midriff ring.
Big Leila’s medicine
My Michelin Man ring continued inflating until my maid’s uniform was pushing well out. However my big friend Leila dismissed it all, saying I was still way too small.
Having exploded herself a couple of nights before, Leila was on a high, so she enticed me along for a spot of extra coaching. Her room was a total wicked witch’s hideout. She’d got absolutely every naughty thing that a fat girl oughtn’t to have. After a couple of hours of encouraging me to pig out on a load of extra mural delights she’d bought in via the internet, I was more than satisfied, I was completely stuffed.
However this didn’t satisfy her. She wanted to get more down me. To my alarm, while I groaned repeatedly that I’d had enough, she began to turn nasty.
Having locked her door, she prepared some leather apparatus and came after me menacingly. She was a big girl in everyway, 6’ 3” or more and around 400 lbs, so I had no chance. She cornered me on the balcony and, dragging me inside, forced me to submit by sitting on me. After I was handcuffed, she attached me to rails she had over her bed and strapped me into this harness. Brandishing a big whip she threatened to lash me unless I continued eating. I ate a bit more: a couple of big chocolate gateaux she’d bought in, then I felt full once more.
Now she filled a litre jug with Kilokwik and poured in a packet of creamy powder. I asked what she was doing.
She said “I’m being cruel to be kind. This is “Wate On” powder that guarantees weight increase. We are going to get you in training. Don’t think you can succeed here just by pussyfooting about. It takes Hard Work and it starts here. Now Drink!”
Compared to unadulterated Kk this was thick and indigestible. I took about half a litre then I gagged. I felt her whip me across my bare buttocks.
“Drink!” She commanded.
I managed some more, then halted. Again I felt the sting of her whip. Somehow I managed to get to the end.
Now she refilled with straight Kk and I found that easier to take. But I still petered out around three quarters empty and she lashed me again. I got to the end shaking.
To my horror I watched her preparing another litre of the Wate On mix and I began to sob.
“You are an RSG - Really Stupid Girl!” she exclaimed, “We’ll have to try something much better.”
Out came a strong leather belt and I cringed away from it as she cracked it out to its full length. Then, instead of threading it around either of our middles as I expected, she pushed it between my legs and buckled it up somewhere over my shoulder.
Chuckling to herself she now produced a sizeable instrument I hadn’t seen before which she rubbed all over with the “Wate On” mix. I recoiled as she pushed it right up against my face and licked it menacingly. She moved off behind my back. First I felt her pushing around with my bottom - which wasn’t at all unpleasant. Then things got more brutal.
She was trying to thrust that great contraption into me! Squawking uncontrollably, I felt the monstrous thing push right into my rectum.
“Ok! Try this Gem. You’ll get really hooked on this. I promise. Now Drink!”
I took my first swig, then I felt an extraordinary tingling sensation. It swept over me, possessed me. It was wonderful…..Cloud Nine! I was up there.…..Anything! I’ll do anything. Anywhere! Any way you want!
I was told I gulped the lot down, not knowing what was happening or where I was.
I missed dinner that night. In fact Leila kept me locked up for a few days. I alternately slept and got abused by that great fat brutal maid.
Eventually she deigned to show me the results in the mirror.
“Leila, I’m nearly spherical!”
“That’s the plan my sweety,” she said proudly, loosening off the belt that went up and down me from over my shoulder. Now she placed it around me at my widest point and pulled it tight. We could both see that there were only a couple of holes between where it had been vertically and where it now sat horizontally around my gut.
She’d made a little ball of me!
“So we’ll have to concentrate on blowing you up past the point where that belt has to be at least half as long again to reach round your middle as it needs to be vertically“.
For some strange reason I was very aroused by this proposition and felt myself going wet.
And that’s when she kissed me so tenderly and so unexpectedly.
I was completely blown away by the thrill of that first kiss, absolutely overwhelmed by the sensuousness of her lips. I got lost in the endless softness of her luscious mouth and as she commenced tonguing me, I could not help but end up climaxing once more.
“Now it’s your turn to come and give me some of the medicine I’ve given you,” she murmured once I had recovered.
I was head over heels in love and wanted nothing more than somehow to become continuously joined on to my huge glorious Leila.
And that’s how we continued working on each other.
As the tiniest maid I became something of a mascot to everyone in the villa. Sadie would ask especially for me to come to her. She liked me to sit on her; I think she enjoyed the extreme contrast between us. Carlo had told her of my challenge so she was always keen to check out my progress; how I was filling out my maids uniform.
03-27-2007, 09:43 PM
I EXPLODE !
With all big Leila’s attentions I was expanding seriously. I’d tightened my uniform after two weeks but Leila knew I’d have to try a lot harder to pull off Carlo’s challenge. All the fat was going on my belly.
Remembering the girl explode her belly right by us that first night, I realised that, with all my belly fat, in truth I’d got the easiest exploding option: alternately sucking in and thrusting out. Even though I thought Franca and Tina were a whole lot more attractive the way their figures were developing compared to me, Tina had a lot less control over her globular buttocks merely clenching and slacking off while Franca’s big flaccid breasts just seemed to be overwhelming her.
For most of the last week I was strung up, imprisoned in Leila’s room. Big Leila was force feeding and dildo-ing me senseless. But I fairly packed on the pounds.
Leila also got me exercising in front of the mirror. I noticed my breasts developing at last. Dwarfed by the belly that was increasingly my trademark, they simply wobbled about up in front of me on top of my upper belly. Not much more was happening round the back either, just the burgeoning belly spreading new love handles around over a growing shelf of bum. It really did seem I was becoming spherical.
The mirror exercises were to practice breathing: sucking in and blowing out. I was developing a whole lot of belly control. I could almost double my belly size by blowing out. And I could do it increasingly violently.
Leila said I needed to be really cunning about also training to hold myself in and to do it by learning to breathe shallowly. That way I could still just manage to get into the uniform and choose the moment to blow it apart.
For the last six nights or so, I hadn’t of course been seen at dinner, being mercilessly force-fed by Leila. But on the very last night of the three weeks Leila carefully rehearsed me. She helped me stagger down to the kitchens in a loose robe. At the last moment, whispering to me to go into shallow breathing mode, she cautiously eased my uniform onto me.
Man it was tight!
I experienced something else, for the first time that night: Exactly what it feels like to be a balloon - over-inflated well past the danger point.
Any false move and I would blow.
It is a feeling I have since become utterly addicted to. Even now I’m about to get off by just remembering it.
The other maids were well aware of my state. They kept looking closely at my splitting seams, giggling and whispering to one another.
In the customary procession out of the kitchen, I was given a vase of breadsticks to carry. I sucked myself in further and made my entry. I waddled rather than walked around past my vacant seat at the foot of the table.
For the thril of it, I paused, curtsied to the assembled diners, then went up the far side approaching Sadie.
As I passed by Carlo, I eased out slightly on the breathing. Sure enough I heard a few seams go. Trying to look startled, I caught his eye. He winked approvingly.
Just as I reached Sadie I exploded. Violently.
With a loud ripping the overstretched black maids uniform burst apart releasing billows of soft new fat. Everything had gone, I just stood there naked, displaying my tiny figure dominated by my brand new belly thrust out unconstrained before me.
Knowing from old how to look the picture of innocence, I started sucking my thumb holding a fragment of my old uniform as a comfort blanket. Everyone clapped, exclaiming delightedly at my feat.
Carlo was seen to make a hurried exit.
I spent the rest of the evening against Sadie being fed and massaged. I fell into a pleasant kind of reverie after some really big girls started using a sort of pressure vessel to pump the Kk down me.
Hours later I awoke to find myself in the pool between Sadie and her great maid. They gestured to the giant screen above us. Wow! There we were, the three of us, a cluster of globes, bobbing up against one another in the pool. Myself I was one of those globes!
Later the following day Carlo, dressed as usual just in shorts and yachting cap, snucked up to me. He put his arm around my neck, kissed me on the cheek and whispered that I’d now find another €200,000 in my bank account.
“For what? Just for bursting out of my uniform?” I asked incredulously.
Not just for that …... Its more for the fact that now you have gone right past the point of no return.
What does that mean exactly?
It means, my little ball-girl, you haven’t a hope of ever being thin again!
You need to be rewarded for that.
"So every time I burst a uniform I’ll get big money?" I said ever so sweetly. Proudly I bustlled my fat body up against him. I ran my hand down into his shorts. What a boner he had going down there!
"Well everyone gets paid regularly for all this,” he smoothed his hands down over my new big tits and down around my huge belly,
“But the really big payouts are when you pass critical points.” he whispered right into my ear.
I bunged up closer against him. "OK Sugardaddy, so what’s the next big one?
"Can’t you guess?"
"Go on then, surprise me."
"With you, my little doughball - it’s going to be when you eventually grow fatter than you are tall."
"You mean immobile? Well, the size I already am, that’s not going to be far away!"
Now I rolled over onto him “Ooh I’m getting quite turned on at the thought “ I murmured to him.
A naked Carlo came delightedly between my tits. He gasped as he came “My! You have such wonderful prospects”.
moving up the table
Thanks to my continued intensive force-feeding sessions with Leila in her witches den, I was constantly getting better at manipulating and flaunting my fat. I got so that every three weeks, I could blast a new uniform apart. I could even do it in two.
Of course I also got huge very quickly.
In just a few short months I’d already become too specialised in appearance to ever be capable of venturing out into normal life again. I could manage no more than a dozen or so paces before I needed to park my belly, unless I used a special wheeled belly support Carlo had produced.
Not that I missed the world we’d left behind. At the Villa Immobile I could have all the fun, food and sex I could manage to pack in. I was also rich now as well as fat - for my eighteenth birthday I’d received a sizeable boost to my bank account from Sadie and Carlo.
Also, every month or so a beautiful cruise ship La vita Ronde (Life in the Round), stopped by the villa. To my delight I discovered it was dedicated to providing a life of pleasure for fat people. During the ship’s 24-hour stay I would be invited aboard as one of an elite squad selected to be “SADIE’S INCREDIBLE EXPLODING MAIDS”.
In a carefully choreographed cabaret act, integrated with a dazzling display of Neapolitan fireworks, we would burst out of our uniforms while serving delighted diners in the ship’s premier restaurant.
We’d use the visit as the excuse to be big spenders and consumers in the ship’s variety of food outlets, boutiques, and beauty parlours as well as in the casino. Carlo told me how maids from the Villa regularly went on to further their careers on the cruise ship - sometimes making good marriages.
When I said I could that, he said “Oh No! I’ve much bigger plans for you sweetie.”
In truth I’d become totally hooked on the apparatus Leila had in her room. We were a classic double act: the giantess Leila and little ball me. Friends came to be worked over by us. We were seen as a sort of firm. Kitted out in all our SM finery we were able to stack great slabs of fat on our customers. For instance I was well on the way to “improving” Tina. Her backside was burgeoning.
But before she too reached the stage where, like me, she would find it too difficult walking, we decided Tina ought to pay one last visit to the old Masocci aunts back home. With all our earnings, we felt we had to buy them a nice place to live. The aunts ended up living in an old farmhouse Tina had found for them in an olive grove overlooking the Bay of Naples, a big difference from the rented apartment in the crowded alley they’d put up with for years.
Apparently Tina tried to pass off her dramatic increase in weight by saying she’d made money running a successful ristorante and pizzeria. Being pudding shaped themselves, the aunts opined that with her new big hips she looked a whole lot healthier. Also, they said, it was their experience that being fat would keep her well out of “man trouble”.
To excuse my absence Tina told them I’d been getting work on a cruise ship. A nice story perhaps with a grain of truth in it, but you, dear readers, will be all too aware of how near the Villa Immobile was now to totally claiming me, blowing me out completely.
With Carlo’s constant encouragement, nothing gave me more pleasure than getting the S & M kit on myself: boots, mask, thongs, wheeled belly support and all, before putting Leila and all the other big girls through the works. In time I built up my big black beautiful giantess to the point where she could scarcely waddle her colossal bulk about.
Franca’s unmanageable bosom bust all bounds and, as for my sister Tina, once she was safely returned to our own private Villa Immobile world, I set about ruthlessly force-feeding her up into an ever more grotesque gigantic pear shape. Eventually Tina came to resemble little more than an enormous animated pair of quivering buttocks.
Tina and I got nicknamed the Masochist sisters for what we’d done to ourselves, as distinct from the “Sadisti”, as the rest of Sadie’s exploding maids liked to call themselves.
We devised a new turn we would perform at dinner that had everyone whooping with delight. Leila would strut about, huge and threatening in her boots, commanding a bevy of fat maids to unveil a tableau. It would be the three of us Franca, Tina and me huddled up together. Franca was close up behind me, her huge mammaries flopping over my head, completely dwarfing my own tits on top of my belly.
Tight up behind Franca, Tina was right in there, all arse, alternately slacking off and clenching her gigantic buttocks. The three of us, Leila would announce grandly, added up to one monumental supersized beauty from the Bay of Naples.
Then she would pretend to trip up, tumbling into us and the component parts would roll apart. We’d all end up squished together any old how. In an orgy of jumbled fatness we’d giggle helplessly until some fat maids eventually got dispatched to rescue us.
Over time, as I grew more and more spherical, I did manage to move up the pecking order of size at the dinner table. But what bugged me was that anyone could see I was much much fatter than a lot of the tall string bags who nevertheless sat further up the table from me because I was so small.
Continued in post nine of this thread
03-30-2007, 10:45 AM
If you'd like to see a pic or two of this plus a silly exploding animation, go to here (http://www.dimensionsmagazine.com/forums/showthread.php?t=20639) in the Fine Arts Archive
04-03-2007, 07:48 PM
THE BIG TIME
Remember Carlo saying my next really big critical point payout would be when I grew fatter than I am tall?
With only three months to go to my nineteenth birthday, I realised that point wasn’t far away.
I knew that sitting down, I’d already become a mountain of fat, quite as large as any I saw that first time I entered the dining hall. I had to be fed either by hand or by tube, and needed CCTV arrangements similar to those Sadie used for communication.
It had got so that even when briefly standing (and leaning back!) my belly droop was too much for my belly wheel. I could only heave the bottom of my gut 6” off the floor. Carlo substituted a flat wide dolly with tiny castors at the corners that meant I could still get about.
But a month or so later, even with my ever swelling belly evenly spread over the dolly, I realised I was losing forward vision because my big breasts were getting pushed up ahead of my chins and face. I couldn’t even get my arms up to push my breast fat out of the way.
Man I was fat. Fat and constantly orgasming!
So was I elated by this?
Or was I ever so slightly apprehensive?
Chair-bound herself by now, Leila evidently decided that there was only one thing to do: I needed a final blast to finish me off. I must have spent a week with the force feeder at full pressure pumping into me. They said I’d been in a state of constant orgasm.
When I came to I ached all over - and was declared officially immobile.
I got transferred into the pool with Sadie. I‘m told I cried a little and she had to comfort me. But after that I found the days passed tranquilly enough.
As Sadie’s companion maid in the pool, my duties were to gently jostle up against Sadie to keep her stimulated as well as to suck constantly on my tube. By my nineteenth birthday I had grown to be a sphere, seven foot in diameter.
I was also worth an extra € ˝ million. Carlo showed me my bank balance.
Big girls didn’t come richer than me, he murmured, nuzzling into my fat alongside Sadie.
“And no rich girl is going to get any bigger than me” I responded decisively.
It was odd being a girl who’d grown a fat body a metre (3’ 4”) greater in diameter than her original height. On dry land I was simply a great mass of jello, I could only breathe with a facemask.
In the pool from above, on the CCTV, you could scarcely see my face. I looked a bit like the top of a peach where the stalk had been pulled out. And from below in the pool, my fat little feet were somewhere way up in behind my lovely lower belly. Carlo spent a lot of time in the pool playing with me and Sadie, he couldn’t keep his hands off me – Sadie seemed to enjoy egging him on.
I was ecstatic and had only one thing in mind – I was determined to grow even bigger.
I got to 8 feet in diameter then 9. From top of head to base of belly hanging down in the pool, I was half what I was across.
Carlo said I weighed over 800 lbs now.
Strangely I never gave a thought to the future.
Like I never asked whatever had happened to Maria, who had been Sadie’s companion maid when Tina and I first arrived, or all the other immobile girls who’d been at the head of the table?
And of course there had been several more intakes behind us of girls to the villa who, thanks to Carlo’s constant attentions, were busy blossoming.
For some time I’d been aware of Carlo and Sadie discussing a forthcoming event. It was obviously going to be a very big Corporate affair, no expense spared, important people whizzing in by helicopter from all round the world – North and South America, the US, Colombia, the Gulf, the new oil rich states of the Caucasus and the Far East. Carlo was forever on his mobile talking things through with some PR outfit in Rome co-ordinating the event.
Sadie boomed proudly that every so often the Villa Immobile was on show, it was an event that attracted sponsorship from the super rich.
I wormed more details out of Carlo. Why hadn’t I been aware of the important event before?
“Oh because it only concerns our really big girls. All our resident girls are too engrossed in their own competitive 24 hour “growth bursts” which you may recall we mount occasionally as very special treats to coincide”.
The centrepiece I learnt of the great show at the Villa Immobile would be the Corporate Grand Auction.
“So what gets auctioned?” I asked, still the little innocent.
It came as a big shock when Carlo said bluntly “You, my delicious ball of pizza dough will be a prime item”.
“You mean it’s dirty old men in suits ogling immobile fat girls?”
“It’s the accepted means by which we get our most sought after young ladies placed in the wider world”.
“Its a fat market Carlo!”
“Listen! You were going after some crap job on a cruise ship till I stopped you. If we play our cards right you are destined to be one of the world’s wealthiest women living in the most luxurious environment imaginable in some exclusive resort.”
“Darling, I’ve tried to give you the best start in life a girl can have.” Sadie gasped sorrowfully.
To which Carlo added “Truly Gemma, you will thank us for this.”
“Its how you get the pay off for fattening us all up isn’t it? Its disgusting. You spend your time getting off by forcing pretty young girls into getting ridiculously obscenely fat, then you sell them off for a profit to start again.”
“I don’t deny the event is crucial for the Villa’s cash flow”, Carlo conceded, “but you must agree you girls end up getting a lot out of it. Your bank balance is already € a million or so”
“So how do I know I’ve really got that much in the bank? Only because you‘ve told me. It might be one great con; there’s probably nothing in the account at all. Perhaps the bank doesn’t even exist. I’ve just got uselessly fat for nothing Now you are flogging me off to some fat man’s Harem.”
Floating in the pool I sobbed myself into a fitful sleep that night. I only found solace eventually by sucking on the Kk tube at full pressure.
Once more I’m floating in a pool. Only I’m here on top of what is advertised as the tallest resort complex in the world. A tripod of three 40 story towers supports our great saucer shaped complex. It contains gardens, a luxurious lido restaurant as well as tennis courts. OK, so maybe the facilities are for people more active than me. We are somewhere tropical and very hot - I can’t quite remember the name of the actual place (in my position I don’t need to). Anyway that’s why being so high up in the sky is pleasantly breezy.
I am being ogled by the sweetest young man, Ozzu, who has the most beautiful dark eyes. He is the son of the resort’s owner and he is so in love with me. But I’ve told him he should put a bit of weight on. Ideally for my tastes he looks a bit bony and undernourished round his middle, his six pack is too well defined. “Build a bit of a belly for me” I urge.
To cut a long story short, after I learnt of the Villa Immobile corporate extravaganza, I began plotting with the others. Surprisingly they were less dismayed than I at discovering they were about to be auctioned off to the highest bidders.
Tina said “don’t you remember the original advertisement young Piccolo?” (It really pisses me off she still calls me piccolo – these days I weigh half a ton!)
She and Franca went on to recite together: “every successful applicant is guaranteed considerably enhanced career prospects”.
The upshot was that we – the foursome of Tina, Franca me and big Leila - offered ourselves collectively as one lot, stacked up together as the revived Neapolitan supersizer act. We quickly bid up to €20 million then, sensing a slow down in the bidding, I blew out, exploding spectacularly. The men in suits who had been so grey and corporate up till now, went wild. We finally went for €30 million to this syndicate from the Far East who wanted us for their resort in the sky.
With the upheaval we’ve all got a bit thinner again. Leila struts about running a punishment clinic that’s proving very popular, but Franca is still swamped by her breasts, even if she does have any amount of admirers. Is it her blond hair that pulls them – or speculation about her (notional) cup size? Happily Tina is worshipped too - by Dodi, he is “my” Ozzu’s brother. She wants him to put a bit on round the hips and has suggested that Leila might get to work on them both.
But I don’t trust Leila; given half a chance she’d steal both our men for herself.
No longer maids ourselves, we are very much the resorts star assets. The club is managed by a guy who is also Italian - called Rocco. In particularly he remembers our cabaret from “La vita Ronde”.
He asked us to train up our own band of promising local girls to explode. Franca reproduced the Kilokwik recipe from when she worked in the Villa Immobile kitchens and the syndicate’s biochemists took it away to the lab and returned with a far more powerful liquid fattener. Its potency has been the ingredient for a highly successful club and cabaret.
The biggest of our girls, globular now, have blown up far larger than we could ever hope for. They float alongside me in our glass walled pool. I enjoy them lightly pressing against me, their huge near spherical breasts and bellies hang far below them deep into the blue water. Great domes of soft buttocks rear up behind them.
Checking around them, I stretch out to stroke a hand across the nearer of the quivering buttock islands. It reacts, shivering and rippling the water. But I’m not sure which of the big girls I’ve touched; their distinguishing features are no longer visible. They continue placidly ingesting the fattening concentrate by tube while gently titillating one another’s bulk with their fat fingertips.
There is only one week left before our first corporate extravaganza auction. Franca lying beside the pool controlling the flow of the fattening mixture catches my eye. With an answering nod she turns up the rate.
Tina thinks it fitting that the syndicate that bought us should have made its money out of owning one of the largest and fast growing drug companies in the world. She says it’s exactly what our aunts always wanted.
We’ve both ended up really big in pharmaceutics.
Phew! So glad that’s the end of these silly noisy exploding maids. I'll try posting something a bit more grown up next time / ED
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