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Old 07-21-2014, 11:27 PM   #1
Benny Mon
 
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Default Compound Growth (~BBW, ~XWG, Stuffing, Sex)

~BBW, ~XWG, Stuffing, Sex - A tale of capitalism and feederism run wild.

Compound Growth
by Benny Mon


Chapter 1

He opened his eyes: 4:15 am. Ryan rolled away from the green numbers on the clock. In the darkness, it took him a few seconds to realize that he’d woken up because Rose wasn’t in bed. He pushed himself upright, struggling against the persistent compulsion to fall back asleep, and walked into the kitchen. He squinted against the cold blue light of the open fridge, the only light in the room. Rose had left the doors open again, painfully reminding him of the near-emptiness of that appliance. He trudged into the living room.

It was a scene he’d come across a million times. Wrapped in her tattered green robe and plopped in the middle of the couch, Rose scraped at the few remaining lines of chocolate on the bottom of the ice cream carton, eyes glued to a Cosby Show rerun.

“Midnight snack?” he asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.” She answered without turning away from the screen. “There wasn’t hardly any ice cream anyway.” Ryan encouraged her to come back to bed, but she only continued to scrape up the chocolate and suck it from the tip of the spoon.

He sighed. “I can’t do this every other night, babe. I’m going back to the room.”

It took Ryan at least an hour to fall back asleep, and it felt like he’d been there for no time at all when his 7:00 alarm went off. He slapped it off, groaned, and rolled over. Rose had come back to bed at some point - she was lying to his right, having kicked off the sheets during the hot night - but for all he know she had arrived only just before the alarm.

He lay there for a moment, admiring her naked, slumbering body from behind. Even from this angle, he could glimpse Rose’s huge belly rise and fall with her breath. He loved the rolls of fat that sculpted her back, the way her arm fat and back fat pushed against each other. She didn’t have much of an ass, but that didn’t keep her hips from rounding out as she’d grown. And she had grown, but only for a while. A month from then they would have been dating for two years, but Rose had plateaued around 260 pounds over six months ago. At 5’3”, even that weight made her unequivocally fat, but they both wanted more - and no one wanted it more than Rose. Since she’d stopped gaining, she’d become bored and listless, and she’d been out of a job ever since the McDonalds where she used to work closed a few months ago. She put in a little time applying for jobs every day, but it had become perfunctory. She spent most days glued to the TV, watching reruns of Law and Order and Seinfeld and bemoaning the lack of food in the fridge. Since Ryan had been promoted at the bank, they hadn’t been struggling, but without a second income there was no room in the household budget for indulgence.

Ryan leaned over to kiss her soft neck. Then he mustered the energy to leave the bed and started getting ready for work.

* * *

“Ryan, how wonderful to see you! You look positively glowing today; what could bring such a smile to your face?”

Ryan rolled his eyes at his coworker as he slumped into his desk chair. “Give it a rest, Kim. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

Kim, standing in Ryan’s doorway, raised her eyebrows suggestively. “Up all night fucking her brains out?”

“What?! No! Jesus, Kim, it was just insomnia.” Of course, he didn’t say whose. He looked up at her. Kim was roughly his height, thin as a rod but sharply dressed in her skirt and green blouse. They’d both started as tellers at the bank a few years back and risen to middle management, and for colleagues they were pretty good friends. Good enough, thought Ryan, for Kim to sexually harass him without it being a big deal.

He chuckled at the thought, and Kim smiled reflexively in response. “Why are you so happy, yourself?” he asked. “I don’t normally see you bring this much enthusiasm to your job, either.”

“Since you asked…” She walked in, leaning toward Ryan and lowering her voice, and her eyes sparkled as she said, “I’m getting married!”

“Get out.” He waved his hand.

“No, seriously!” She laughed joyously. “Next month! Downtown, in a small ceremony right at city hall. You and Rose are invited!”

“You’re saying Marv actually proposed?”

“God, don’t call him ‘Marv.’ He didn’t propose, exactly; we’ve just been talking about it lately, and with his business finally starting to pick up, we decided it was the right time.”

Ryan leapt out of his chair and threw his arms around Kim. “Kim, congratulations! I’m sorry for giving you shit; this is wonderful!”

“Isn’t it?” She grinned from ear to ear. “I haven’t told anyone else yet, but I brought in some ‘celebratory’ snacks today; there are some cupcakes in the break room. Keep the wedding thing on the DL, but help yourself to a cupcake.” She winked and walked out of his office.

Ryan and Rose’s invitation arrived a few days later, and they showed up for the ceremony the following month. As their bus to city hall left behind cheap condos and abandoned buildings for the ritzier parts of town, Ryan realized how infrequently he came to this part of the city. He felt like the city didn’t want them there, a feeling that only intensified during the ceremony as the officiant glared at Marvin and his family, all of whom were black. It was a relief to head back to the north side of town for the reception at Kim’s mother’s place.

Kim had told Ryan that she and Marvin couldn’t afford a honeymoon, so by the following Monday she was back at work. It didn’t seem to bother her; in fact, her marriage seemed to have launched her into a state of perpetual joy. She laughed more than she used to, brought in gifts for her coworkers. Kim had always been fun to be around, but this was different, and the strangest thing, thought Ryan, was how much more she ate. She showed up every day with some elaborate, calorie-laden drink from Starbucks and became a regular supplier of snacks for the office. She also wore the same outfit every Monday - the skirt and green blouse - which allowed Ryan to track the effect of this new splurge on her body. Two weeks in, the skirt had grown a little tighter around her hips. At six, she started to show a little belly. At the eight-week mark, she wore her auburn hair up in a ponytail, which emphasized how much her cheeks had rounded out and revealed the slightest hint of a nascent double chin. After three months, you couldn’t miss the changes in Kim’s body. Her arms, belly, ass, and hips all strained against her outfit. Her little double chin was now visible from every angle. Ryan figured she had put on at least 20 pounds.

What had begun as simple fattening breakfasts had turned into all-day pigouts. One day, when Ryan and Tom, the branch manager, were closing, Tom asked if Ryan he had noticed Kim’s donut habits. “She gets two boxes of the things from Tim Horton’s every other day, makes a huge production about bringing in snacks for the whole office, and then eats most of them herself!” He tossed six empty donut boxes into a recycling bin. “And these here are just from the last two days!”

“How could I not notice?” said Ryan, shaking his head. He did his best to make his boner as discreet as possible.

Kim’s growth continued through Christmas. The original Monday outfit transformed into gray slacks and a sweater, though Ryan didn’t know if that came more from the impending winter cold or from the blouse and skirt’s inability to contain Kim’s growing body. Her ass filled out the pants wonderfully, just a bit more each week, and her thighs started to brush together ever so slightly when she walked. Ryan couldn’t figure it out. As long as he’d known Kim, she’d been practically underweight and never one to indulge, but her rapid expansion didn’t seem to faze her. Was the fog of marital bliss distracting her from how huge she was getting? That seemed less and less likely as the winter holidays approached and she continued to outgrow the new Monday outfit. The week after Thanksgiving, her sweater was doing all it could to contain her belly, and her legs were packed into the slacks like sausages. There was no way she didn’t know what was going on.

That night, Ryan walked in entirely distracted, but Rose, unusually, was in a good mood. She guided him to the bedroom and dragged down his pants so she could run her tongue over the head of his cock.

“Someone’s horny,” he said mischievously as his cock stiffened, and she looked up at him teasingly as she wrapped it in her lips. He grabbed the edge of the bed behind him and stiffened as she began jerking him off at the same time, and then she couldn’t wait anymore. She pushed him on the bed, threw off her own clothes, and forced his cock inside her as she laid her belly on him. He gasped a bit, unprepared for the weight, and his cock throbbed. But his mind was soon elsewhere: he imagined it was Kim riding him, her ass cheeks and thighs slapping against his legs while he grabbed her luscious belly. Kim wasn’t even as fat as Rose, but at the pace she was gaining she would overtake her in no time. He envisioned Kim at twice her current weight, panting as her enormous body rocked up and down over his cock. He grew even stiffer inside her and clenched her hips as he exploded in her - and realized that Rose was cumming at the same time.

She rolled off him, panting as the bed creaked under her, and a blush of shame crept into his already flushed cheeks. This obsession with Kim was going too far, but he didn’t know what to do about it. She was one of his best friends, and he had to see her at work every day.

Rose loomed over him and kissed him again. “I wasn’t the only horny one,” she grinned. “Why don’t we do that more often?” Ryan laughed. Rose sat with her hands on her belly in silence for a while, slowly massaging her fat. “You’d think that spending all day on my ass would be the perfect way to get fat,” she said, suddenly. “At least when I was at McDonald’s I could eat all I wanted. Now, I’ve got all the time in the world, and no calories.” Ryan flushed again; his bank job didn’t pay nearly well enough to support a gaining lifestyle for Rose, and ever since she’d been fired, he hadn’t been able to shake his guilt over the issue. He wondered if she had even lost a little weight in the last couple months - not much, if any, but the possibility nagged at him. In the meantime, Rose refused to weigh herself for fear of seeing weight loss, so there was no way for either of them to know for sure.

* * *

A week passed. Ryan barely got anything done at work; he spent half his time waiting for Kim to walk by outside his door, to see her sweater inch up her belly as she walked - maybe to see her pants finally split. It didn’t happen.

Ryan came into work as usual the following Monday and started preparing for a few meetings with clients that afternoon. He worked well for a while, strangely undistracted, until he glanced up at the clock: 10:30. Kim was normally in by 10:00 at the latest. Lunch came and went with no sign of her, and by the time his meetings were done he had to stop into Tom’s office and ask about her.

“She told me not to say anything unless you asked, but she’ll no longer be working at the bank. She quit.”

“What are you talking about? She didn’t even bring home any of her stuff.”

“Told us to keep it!” Tom shrugged. “It’s bad timing, too, since none of our low-level people really fit the bill for her position. I might have to call another branch and see.”

“Why’d she quit?”

“Didn’t say! She seemed happy as a clam, though. Has been ever since she got married. Maybe she wants to stay home and have a baby. Do you think maybe all that fat is baby weight?”

Ryan just drifted out of the office as Tom kept talking. How could she just leave? Why would she leave? He realized, surprised, that he didn’t even have her phone number; they never saw each other outside of work. He didn’t know where she lived. He had no way of contacting her. She was out of his life, and he didn’t really know what to feel. He would have expected relief - after all, didn’t he want to get rid of his obsession with her? No, this wasn’t the way to do it. Disappearing suddenly and without explanation just deepened her hold on him.

He was never able to totally shake it over the months that followed. The intensity of her grip faded, but work and sex always reminded him of Kim from time to time. He would go a week without a single thought of her bothering him, and then the next time he fucked Rose he wouldn’t be able to get Kim out of his mind. She was a curse, a cancer. He was miserable.

He told Rose about Kim’s mysterious disappearance - withholding, of course, any knowledge of his obsession - just to get it off his chest. It didn’t mean much to Rose. Around the same time, she found some part-time work substitute teaching, but she had no idea what she was getting into. The kids in these old, underfunded schools ruled the classroom with a tyrannical fist and couldn’t care less about schoolwork, and her wages barely allowed them to buy an extra pie or cake a week. She dropped out after two weeks, and Ryan was impressed she lasted that long.

* * *

It was a Saturday in early July, about a year since Kim’s marriage, and Rose and Ryan were relaxing in the living room. She had an episode of Law and Order on; he was reading the paper. He hated his job (and business in general), and Kim’s departure had left a huge emotional void in his life, so since then he’d found himself becoming interested in politics. His Midwestern town split pretty evenly between Democratic and Republican control, so local elections tended to be highly contested. He was thinking about volunteering for the next campaign of the incumbent Democratic mayor, Max Kaplan; he faced a primary challenge from a fairly conservative city councilman, and Ryan felt invested enough to get involved. It seemed to him that Kaplan was the only thing keeping the north side of the city as healthy as it was - and it wasn’t very healthy.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the Kaplan rally this afternoon?” he asked Rose.

“Nah,” she mumbled as she picked her way through a bag of chips. “Have fun, though.” Ryan had gotten a small raise recently - not big enough to increase their standard of living, to be sure, but enough to get Rose some extra snacks. Still, she’d worn the same clothes for more than a year; she seemed stuck at around 260 pounds.

It was a long bus ride to Aberdeen Plaza downtown, where the rally was taking place, and once again Ryan saw the town transform along his route from a Rust Belt wasteland to a rejuvenated Mecca of wealth and opulence. Fountains shot forth pure blue water at the plaza, where hundreds of people had gathered for the rally. “We will not allow the moneyed interests of our state to take over Southvale!” cried Kaplan, a stocky, darkly complected middle-aged man. “Southvale will remain a city of the people, by the people, and for the people!” Ryan winced when Kaplan reached a point in his speech outlining a plan to combat obesity. It was uncontroversial with most of the city residents, but for Ryan it was an acceptable cost for the other benefits he felt Kaplan brought the city.

The rally ended long after lunch, and a ravenous Ryan conducted himself to a nearby Chipotle to refuel until dinner. It was a huge restaurant with a second floor, so he brought his burrito to that top floor to enjoy the closest thing to a panoramic view that Southvale had to offer. It was there that he began to hear strange snippets of conversation on the floor beneath him.

“...you’re getting so big...can’t wait to…”

“...but the business won’t be able to handle it…”

“You underestimate yourself; you…”

“...more popular every day. Some day you won’t be able…”

The voices dropped to a whisper, but the first comment had sparked his curiosity, and he thought he recognized one of the voices. He leaned over the second floor railing to look down, burrito in hand, and saw a couple leaning close to discuss something. He couldn’t see the man very well - he was black and bald but otherwise indistiguishable - but the woman seemed familiar. She had several empty pieces of foil in front of her; Ryan figured she’d already eaten two burritos and had moved on to her third. And then she cocked her head just enough for him to recognize her - it was Kim!

He almost couldn’t believe it at first. She seemed nearly twice as large as she had been when she got married, nearly the Kim of his wildest fantasies. She wore a pink sweatsuit that couldn’t contain her flesh; her ass spread out across the bench, and the pale skin of her midriff spilled over the waistband of her sweatpants. Ryan’s heart began to race: since she was roughly his height (5’8”), he figured she must weigh over 200 pounds. He didn’t know how much she weighed when she was skinny, but he felt as though she had almost doubled in size in the time since her marriage. One year, and a gain of around 100 pounds.

He had to know what she and Marvin were talking about. He leaned against the railing beside him, trying to catch some of their whispers, but without warning the railing gave out, and Ryan found himself tumbling to the ground. The last thing he remembered was Kim glancing up sharly and screaming as he plummeted toward her.

* * *

“My dear Ryan Sweet. How wonderful to see you. What might account for that positive glowing look on your face today?”

Ryan slowly returned to consciousness, successively remarking the white curtains, the immobility of his left arm, the sound of Kim’s voice. “Fuck you,” he managed.

His eyes focused, and he realized he was in a hospital. His left arm was wrapped in a cast, and Kim lay in the bed to his left, her own left arm in the same condition. Marvin sat in a chair at the foot of Kim’s bed, glowering hesitantly at Ryan for the profanity directed at his wife.

“Sorry, man,” Ryan wheezed. “Shit, what happened to us?”

“That shitty Chipotle and its total disregard for safety codes is what happened,” said Marvin, and Ryan realized that Marvin might be glowering for other reasons. “The second floor railing you were leaning on came off completely and almost hit us when it fell. We’re lucky you two just ended up with broken arms and a few other scrapes and bruises.”

“And lucky that my extra padding cushioned your fall, Ryan!” Kim chirped.

Marvin smiled. “That’s one way to look at it. Anyway, that Chipotle is scared enough of a lawsuit to give each of you $20,000. Apparently they think you can sue for even more.”

Ryan almost choked on his laughter. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“No way. They’re dead serious. As soon as you leave this hospital, you’ve got $20,000 to your name, and maybe more if you want to sue.”

Ryan could tell Marvin was serious, and the smile quickly fell from his face. “Twenty...thousand dollars? What am I going to do with all that money?”

“Whatever you want! You’ll lose some to taxes, but you’ll still be left with fifteen or so. Think about what you want to do.” He stood up and rubbed his hands together. “Kimmy, I’ve got a few things left to do at work, but I’ll be back again after dinner.”

“Sounds good, you big piece of meat,” she said. They kissed briefly, and Marvin left.

Ryan wasn’t sure what to say at first. He settled on: “Marvin’s working on a Saturday?”

“He’s an entrepreneur,” said Kim. “Duty calls!”

“Is this the same business he’s had since last year? How long do you stay an entrepreneur if your business actually crushes it?”

“He’s got a lot on his plate. But what about you? You finally makin’ bank at the bank?”

“I can’t believe how little they pay me for what I do for them.”

That made her pause. They remained silent for almost a minute, and then Kim spoke: “I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“You know what! I left the bank last year and didn’t even say goodbye. It was what I had to do, and I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, or anyone else, but I felt so guilty. I’m glad I finally have a chance to explain what happened.”

“Me too,” said Ryan earnestly, and he pushed himself up in bed with his good hand. “I’m ready.”

“Good,” said Kim, fire burning in her hazel eyes. “Let me tell you why I left and why I got so fat - and why I’m going to get even fatter.”
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Old 07-22-2014, 03:49 PM   #2
LumpD
 
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Can't wait to read more of this story and your other one. Keep it up!

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Old 07-22-2014, 04:16 PM   #3
Benny Mon
 
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Thanks! Hoping to post new material in a day or two.
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Old 07-25-2014, 12:50 PM   #4
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I love the plot. Please post more.
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Old 07-26-2014, 02:10 AM   #5
Benny Mon
 
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Default Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“I was born in Southvale,” said Kim, “and as bad we have it now, I had it worse. My mom died when I was six, and my dad never had a job long enough to feed us. I never got enough to eat, Ryan; I was badly malnourished. But I got obsessed with fat people as a result. Anytime I saw someone with a double chin, with blubbery arms, with a belly that filled their lap, I couldn’t look away. I wanted to be like that. I remember a time when I was six, and Dad and I had gone downtown for some reason. There was this woman getting out of her car at the Hotel Weizen, and she was huge. I remember it so clearly. It took her two tries to even get out of the back seat, and she was stuffed into this purple dress that was probably two sizes too small. Her ass was so big that the dress practically rode up to her ass cheeks in the back, and her belly probably pushed it two feet in front of her. Her neck and her double chin were like a huge pile of rolls.” She closed her eyes. “Rolls for miles.

“It drove me crazy, but there was no way for me to have it. All through my childhood, I felt it inside like I was burning up, even when I was a teenager. Dad never made enough money, and there was no way I was going to, either. When I finally got promoted at the bank, I started making enough money to eat a normal amount, for the first time in my life. But not more than that; just the bare minimum for a decent lifestyle.

“Things changed when I met Marvin. He was a friend of a friend, and I already knew that some of his exes were pretty big. We started hanging out, and we really had something. When I told him about my need to gain weight, that was it - we were together. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t already fat. He knew I had that fire in me, and we decided that we would get me fat any way we could. I think the idea of taking someone as skinny as me and making me huge really lit a fire under him.

Ryan realized that she’d been leaning forward with enthusiasm as she told her story, but here she slumped back into the bed. “The only problem was that he was even poorer than I was and didn’t have a job. A couple years back, he’d decided to become an ‘entrepreneur.’ Psh. It didn’t work at first. He tried to do a tech thing, but he barely knew anything about programming. After that he won a little money in the lottery and put it in a new restaurant with a friend, a breakfast place. Turns out the friend was a crook; he was using the place to launder drug money and eventually shut it down and took everything it was worth. Marvin didn’t have a way to sue this guy or anything since the whole business was dirty from the drug money. He did meet an ex there - one of his customers - but it didn’t last long. Big ass, but no brain.

“But…” She smiled. “Remember how a couple years ago the city legalized weed?”

“How could I not?” said Ryan. “That was a Kaplan plan. Weed never was my thing, though.”

“Yeah, well,” said Kim, “that’s when things started to look up for Marvin. It was around the time we started dating, and he got his own dispensary running. I don’t know all the details, and I don’t know where he got his product from at first, but he started real small and grew the business from there. I’m telling you, Ryan, I don’t know if that man is a genius or if he was in the right place at the right time, but he made bank. For the first time in his life, or mine, for that matter, we had more money than we needed just to get by, and almost all of it went to my stomach. I gained so fast - I think I put on like ten pounds a month in the first few months.”

“So that’s why you were eating so much at work?”

“Yeah, and it wasn’t just at work. I always brought in some Starbucks, but I’d always eaten a few pastries by the time I got to work, and my dinners were feasts.”

Ryan could feel his heart racing. “What were your favorite foods?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

Kim paused and blushed, and for a moment Ryan feared he had gone too far. But she continued, slowly: “Pancakes, for one. Marvin would make me these enormous stacks on the weekends, blueberry and chocolate and just plain drenched in maple syrup. Muffins and donuts, too, and lasagna. I’m like fucking Garfield when I comes to lasagna; I could eat it all day. But baked goods most of all.”

She shook her head a little. “Anyway! Like I said, we suddenly had all this money for food, and the weed itself didn’t hurt my appetite, either. I quit the bank job around this time, too. Marvin was bringing in so much money, and if I didn’t have to work, all I wanted was to stay home all day and stuff myself like a pig. At the same time, I wasn’t exactly ready to go public about it, so that’s why I didn’t tell anyone why I left. I hope you understand.” Ryan nodded. “I felt like I’d made it, Ryan. I’d been skinny all my life, and it was so exciting seeing where all the weight went. My belly puffed out at first, just an extra little layer of fat that grew and grew. My hips started to get soft, and my ass just exploded with flab. All the weight forced me to walk a little more slowly, to feel the heft and the momentum of my body as it got bigger and bigger.”

She stopped herself suddenly. “Are you familiar with the concept of compound growth?”

Ryan glared at her. “Where do you think I’ve been working for practically my entire adult life?”

“Ok, well, it felt like my appetite was growing with compound interest the fatter I got. And you know how quickly that takes off, so there was no way that my actual eating was going to grow at the same rate. Marvin’s business kept growing - he was buying up other dispensaries now - and we didn’t know what to do with all the money. So if it couldn’t all go directly to food anymore, I convinced him to invest my growth” - Ryan rolled his eyes at the pun - “in other ways. There was this small bakery downtown that I loved, Glazer’s, and they only had two or three employees, a mother and daughter, I think. They only made cupcakes. He bought out the whole thing, told the bakers’ their new job was to spend every day designing new cupcakes for me and delivering them to me for dessert. They come over once a day, around lunch to give me samples and get my opinion and around dinner with the final products. It’s funny - Marvin pays them more than they ever made before, and it only takes them a few hours a day to make my cupcakes. So they’ve ended up baking a lot for themselves. The mom’s put on a lot of weight herself, and she wasn’t skinny to start with!

“So Marvin kept doing this. He didn’t always buy whole businesses; sometimes he’d just find the best chefs at restaurants and bakeries and pay them to make me stuff on the side, working independently. But he’s bought up some other smaller businesses, too, including this amazing food truck.”

“So,” said Ryan, rolling to his side to prevent his boner from pitching a tent, “how much land and people does Marvin own? I mean, with the dispensaries and the bakeries and the cooks and everything…”

“He’s got a little empire all around town,” Kim smiled.

“And what happened when the state legalized weed this year?”

“That’s the thing! People are flocking to Southvale now, from other towns and from out of state, even. Not that they weren’t before, but bringing the whole business above ground has made Marvin filthy, stinking rich. And we already practically have a full-time cooking staff at this point, so buying up more restaurants isn’t going to do much more for me. So I’ve got a different idea, but Marvin’s not biting yet.”

“What’s that?”

“I want him to start a clinic or something, a fat camp. Advertise, bring in people from all over. He can put ads in papers in Cleveland and Detroit and Chicago - ‘Get Fat Quick!’ God knows we have the money, and he’s pretty much been training the staff without knowing it, these last few months. But he’s freaked out by making all this any closer to being public than it is. The people who already cook and bake for me are under contract not to say anything about how it all works. And I get it - how would people buying weed from him feel if they found out they’re paying to directly fatten up this guy’s wife? Ryan, this business pretty much exists to satisfy my greed. They wouldn’t be wrong about that. But there’s so much more we can do here, and I don’t think Marvin gets it yet. If I can’t get fatter any faster than I am now, why not help other people at the same time?”

She finally stopped and stared out the window, looking right through a crow in the tree outside.

“If you guys are so worried about not making this public,” said Ryan, “why are you telling me all about it?”

She blushed a little. “I had to, I guess. I felt so guilty about not saying anything from the start. We were so close, such good friends, and I felt like if I could talk to anyone about it, I could talk to you.” His boner throbbed under the sheets. “Once you fell on top of me today, I figured there was no way out of it,” and she laughed as his boner throbbed again.

She excused herself to use the bathroom, and Ryan took this opportunity to reposition himself. He felt his pulse rising, could hear it in his ears. This was a dream; he couldn’t wrap his head around everything he had just heard. Kim had driven him crazier than ever with desire, but he a simultaneous and deep resentment at Marvin’s success grew up in him as well. It wasn’t fair that he and Rose should suffer while Marvin fattened up Kim like a prize calf - because of weed, no less!

They spent what was left of the afternoon chatting about less consequential things. Marvin came back around dinner, bringing a bag of Chinese takeout for Kim and another for him and Ryan to split. If Kim had been a champion eater back in December, she was even more impressive now, scarfing down a carton of lo mein, munching through five spring rolls, inhaling heaping forkfuls of rice and orange chicken, tipping the empty cartons to her mouth to capture any fugitive juices and sauces, and topping it all off by eating everyone’s fortune cookies, all washed down with a liter of cherry Coke. She never once seemed fazed.

Rose came by after dinner. Her phone had been dead, and the hospital hadn’t been able to get a hold of her until 6:30. She ran into the room, wide-eyed with fear, and Ryan both laughed and winced and she hugged him and his broken arm. She greeted Marvin and wouldn’t have even recognized Kim if Marvin hadn’t been there to serve as context. As the evening wore on, Rose spent most of her time looking back and forth wordlessly between Ryan and Kim, with fear and concern in the first place and with awe and terror in the second. Soon enough, visitor hours came to an end, and Marvin offered Rose a ride home. She accepted.

Just to be safe, the hospital had decided to keep Kim and Ryan till morning. Kim left around 10:00, changing quickly so she could meet Marvin down at the street. Ryan pretended to be asleep so he could watch her shed her hospital gown and change into the clothes Marvin had brought the night before. She was clearly outgrowing even her newest clothes, as she struggled to pull her jeans up over her ass. Once on, the top of her ass still showed, jiggling a little while she pulled her shirt out of the bag. There was no way her belly would fit in these pants, either, so she let it hang out while she slipped on her shirt (a loose, flowing garment that only barely managed to cover her swaying belly as it was). It took some time to get it on without re-injuring her broken arm, currently cradled in a sling, and her belly shook gently with every movement. Finally clothed, she grabbed the rest of her things and marched out of the room, the slightest waddle mixing with the sway of her hips.

When she had gone, Ryan pulled his gown around him, got out of bed, and squatted to look at the chart hanging from a hook at the foot of her bed. Weight: 215 pounds. He still didn’t know how heavy she’d been at the start, and 215 wasn’t that much, but she looked huge for 215 pounds. And she was only going to get bigger.
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Old 08-02-2014, 12:49 PM   #6
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Love where this is going. Post more please.
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Old 08-05-2014, 02:28 PM   #7
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Default Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ryan stood up again and returned to his bed, noticing for the first time a small yellow notepad on a table between the beds. Someone had scribbled a phone number and address, 68 Broadway St. He didn’t know Broadway; was it downtown? He figured Kim had written this but wondered how she had done so without his noticing. He tore off the note, folded it, and put it in his pocket.

Around 11, Rose appeared in his doorway, grinning like a fool and more mindful of Ryan’s arm this time. She wore jeans and a tight green t-shirt, kept deliberately long after she had outgrown it so she could have some extra-tight clothes when the occasion called for it. She kept tugging it down to remain halfway decent in public, but her huge belly and ample love handles always peeked out just a little bit.

They decided to spend a little more time downtown and ended up having lunch at a small, bright sandwich place. Rose plopped down into a chair across from Ryan, her belly fat rippling and sending her shirt just a little higher. “We don’t eat out very much anymore,” she said, eying the menu greedily.

“Well that’s going to change soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess Chipotle is worried about getting sued, so they’re giving Kim and me $20,000 each.”

“Twenty thousand dollars?”

“Yeah.” Ryan laughed. “I don’t think I believe it yet. Then again, Marvin’s the only person who told me. Maybe I shouldn’t believe it till I’ve got the check in my hand.”

“Marvin’s not going to fuck around with you,” said Rose. “If he said it, I believe it. And thank god; you were in the hospital for a whole day, and I had no idea how we were going to pay for that. Plus there’s taxes...maybe this isn’t such a good deal after all.”

Ryan hadn’t even thought about the medical bills yet. He had insurance through his job, but it wasn’t good enough to cover this kind of expense. He shrugged. “Still, we’ll get to keep at least half, probably more. Do you realize what this means?”

Rose was practically drooling. “I do…” But she suddenly frowned. “We should be getting Kim’s money, too. It’s not like they need it. Did you see Marvin’s watch? And his tie? That guy’s got to be loaded.”

“He is,” nodded Ryan.

“We deserve it more than they do. Twenty grand for them is probably a drop in the bucket; think about how much forty grand would change our lives. What is it again? To each according to what they need?”

“What are you, suddenly a communist?”

“Whatever,” she said with exasperation. “They don’t deserve it. And besides, even if they did give us forty grand, we’d spend it. It doesn’t last forever. What the hell does Marvin do that makes him so rich?”

“That’s the thing,” said Ryan, and he told her everything: Marvin’s old, failed projects; the weed and the dispensaries; how this was all to fatten up Kim. He wasn’t sure if he should bring up Kim’s feederism; he felt that just by mentioning it he would betray his illicit desires. For a minute, he feared he actually had given himself away. Rose didn’t say anything at first, only spoke to order a BLT and two orders of fries. Ryan stayed quiet, too; he didn’t want to break the silence if it might confirm his fears. Only when their food arrived did Rose speak again.

“You gotta get a piece of that.”

“What?” Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. Was Rose telling him to get with Kim? Had she both read the unfaithful desires in his soul and given him her approval? “A piece of who? Of what?”

“A piece of the business - of Marvin! That’s worth more than any handout from Chipotle. Become his partner. Do whatever it takes. You need a piece of that pie - I need a piece of that pie. That’s the only way we’ll ever have enough money for me to keep gaining.”

Ryan leaned back in his chair, both relieved and peeved. “You can’t be serious. That would never work! How am I going to convince him to do that? What could I possibly give him that he would want?”

“I don’t know. You work at a bank. You could be his accountant or his CFO or some shit. Tell him you’ll triple sales and walk his dogs three times a day. Or blackmail him - say you’ll turn in his suppliers in other states to the feds!”

“I don’t know anything about his suppliers. Since when do you know about suppliers? And no one actually straight-up says ‘Blackmail him!’ You’re just supposed to imply that I should blackmail him, and then I say, ‘Are you suggesting I blackmail him?’, and you just cock your head a little bit and make me realize I have no choice but to do it.”

Rose ignored him. “But you do know about the feederism thing. Didn’t Kim say it would be bad for business if that got out?”

“She doesn’t think so. But Marvin does; he won’t even expand the business anymore just because he doesn’t want people to know that his hungry, greedy wife is behind all this. That’s how it would play, anyway, or at least he thinks so.”

Rose cocked her head - more than slightly - deepening the creases of her neck folds, her ice-blue eyes staring at Ryan down her nose. The waiter brought their lunches, and Rose devoured her fries - working like an assembly line, three fries at a time, dipped in ketchup, into her mouth, barely chewed and swallowed, repeat - without taking her eyes off Ryan.

“It’s stupid,” he said, idly stirring his soup. “It would never work.”

* * *

Ryan decided to take the rest of the week off. He hadn’t taken a sick day in so long that he probably could have taken the whole month off, but he figured a week would be long enough to get used to operating with only one hand. And he needed time to process all this new information about Kim.

The Chipotle check actually arrived in the mail the next morning. Ryan couldn’t believe how soon it had arrived, and Rose was so excited that she ran off right away to binge on fast food, and then to grocery shop.

Ryan sat at the table staring at a piece of dry toast and a glass of orange juice, his left arm (merely fractured and not actually broken) resting in a black sling. Blackmail. How stupid could she be? They should be grateful for the Chipotle money. She clearly wasn’t unhappy about it at the moment.

He stared at the yellow note with the phone number and address, partly unfolded next to his plate, and reflected on the fact that it was a Monday. He had measured Kim’s growth by Mondays, every week without fail revealing a few more pounds added to her frame. That had been so many months ago, but he decided it was time to revive the tradition. He made the call.

“Hello?” It was clearly Kim’s voice.

“Hey, Kim, it’s Ryan. I found your note. It was your note, right?”

“Of course it was! You were sleeping when I left, and I wanted to make sure we didn’t fall out of touch again. You’re an important person in my life, Ryan, and I shouldn’t shut you out like I did.”

“I appreciate it. Hey, is this your home phone or a cell?”

“It’s my cell. We don’t have a home line.”

“Right, cool.” He didn’t know what else to say, and an awkward silence quickly spread like an oil spill.

She broke it: “Do you want to come over?” She sounded so effortless, so earnest and sincere, but innocent, too. He immediately accepted, immediately knew what a bad idea that was. “We barely caught up in the hospital,” she said. “I want to know what you’ve been up to! How about you stop by after work?”

“I’m actually off work today, for my arm.”

“Right, that makes sense. Why don’t you just come over now! We can have lunch together and shoot the shit.” At the thought of having lunch with Kim, Ryan felt his groin glow with warmth, his cock prick up. He imagined a conveyer belt delivering pies to her mouth, her belly cartoonishly doubling, tripling, quadrupling in size, Kim licking her lips and asking for seconds. It was a ridiculous image but still enough to make his cock semi-erect. He stuffed his keys in his pocket, scribbled a quick note for Rose, and told Kim he’d be right over.

* * *

As he waited for the bus, Ryan realized that he still had no idea where Broadway Street was. He called Kim back for directions, and twenty minutes later he found himself standing outside the door to a beautiful new downtown apartment, nestled in among many small shops and boutiques and not far from City Hall. Kim greeted him at the door in a dark velvet robe that hid her figure a little more than Ryan would have preferred. All of the apartment but the foyer were on the second floor, so Ryan followed Kim up the stairs, watching her ass jiggle under her robe as she made her way. She slowed down near the top and paused on the landing to catch her breath. “I hate these...fucking things,” she wheezed. “Marvin keeps telling me we’ll move into a new place, but I’m getting sick of doing all this work and burning all these calories.”

She guided him into the kitchen, an expansive masterpiece of marble and stainless steel, and offered him a seat at the island. “Tea?” He declined as she added six lumps of raw sugar to her cup and poured in more cream than there was tea (or so it seemed to Ryan). She eased her bulk onto the stool around the corner from Ryan and dropped one more sugar lump into her cup. To Ryan’s astonishment, she drained its contents, chugging them down in a matter of seconds, and proceeded to fix another cup just like it.

It was a little awkward at first, but soon they were talking about everything. Ryan said that he was getting into politics again and thinking about volunteering for the Kaplan campaign. Kim told him about the books she’d read lately and some of the latest celebrity gossip. Her childhood obsession with gluttony, opulence, and luxury had left her with a fixation on celebrity culture. She loved to keep track of who was gaining weight, her hopes rising when a newly chubby starlet proclaimed her love for her own body, only to be dashed when she dropped fifteen pounds and appeared on the cover of People, showing off her washboard abs and painfully flat chest in a bright bikini.

Talk of fat celebrities inevitably led Kim to discuss her own corpulence, and before long she was relating her meals of the past few days, kneading her belly and becoming visibly aroused as she relived her gluttony. Ryan found himself drawn in and enormously uncomfortable at the same time.

“Yesterday was one of the biggest dinners I’ve ever had,” said Kim patting her belly. “The guys from the Italian place started me out with a little risotto and then the most delicious seafood linguine. I must’ve eaten two and a half plates with almost a whole bottle of wine. I was stuffed, and then they made me eat two cannolis. Made me!” She laughed. “Obviously they didn’t; they just were following my greedy orders. Somehow I got it all down, and then a couple of my friends came by to pick me up, and we went to this new French place called Crème. It’s just a dessert place, and there I had an enormous slice of flourless chocolate cake and some port.”

“Fancy shit,” said Ryan, and Kim giggled. “Sounds like you’re really living the life.”

“Yeah, and the wine really helped there. I probably couldn’t have eaten half as much if I hadn’t been so drunk.”

“Kim,” Ryan blurted, “why are you telling me all this?”

She stopped and looked at him, a new wariness in her eyes. “Are you bored?”

“No! Definitely not, but just...all of this, how you want to get fat, all the details. I thought Marvin didn’t want any of this getting out. Why didn’t you just tell me that you left work because Marvin got rich, and that’s that. Why not leave out the fat stuff?”

“How could I leave it out? It wouldn’t make any sense, and you’re important to me, Ryan. I feel like I can share these things with you.”

“You can,” he said, realizing he’d been clenching his fists and unclenching them. “It’s totally cool.”

She smiled and put her chubby fingers on his hand. “All this talking about dinner is making me hungry, anyway! What a cliché, right?” She downed the rest of her tea and got up to get her phone. “Let me call the sushi people and let them know we’ll be ready soon.”

The “sushi people” were a young Korean couple who operated a Japanese restaurant across the street, and about a half hour later two of their employees brought over more sushi than Ryan had ever seen gathered in one place. Kim offered him his choice of rolls, so he picked a couple modest rolls, one salmon and one tuna, as well as a cup of miso soup. Kim tucked into the rest, somehow managing to continually stuff her face as she related more stories of past binges and plans for future ones. Two small plates of California rolls (one spicy, one regular), a rainbow roll, a big fried roll, a little bit of sashimi, and some hand roll with eel in it - she methodically mashed them into her mouth, bloating her cheeks as she inhaled the sushi faster than she could swallow, occasionally washing everything down with Coke. (In spite of her prominent and growing double chin, Ryan noticed, her cheeks weren’t yet fat enough to obscure the elegant line of her jaw, running from her chin to her high, round cheekbones.) She didn’t once slow down, and her mindless stuffing and talking led her to start grabbing Ryan’s unfinished rolls once she had devoured her own portion, popping them into her mouth. She didn’t even realize what she was doing, and Ryan loved it far too much to intervene.

She never once slowed down, but when she’d finished she slid down in her chair, groaning and rubbing her belly while one flap of her robe fell away enough to reveal most of her meaty thigh. Ryan couldn’t help but stare at the stretch marks near her hips, tiger stripes that marked her rapid progress. Her thighs looked like they were ready to burst from all the fat she had recently stuffed into them.

Kim looked over at him, hands resting on her belly and eyes bleary from gorging herself. He didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t say anything, fixing her eyes on him as a smile slowly curled into her cheeks. She slid her hands down her thickly padded legs and sat forward in her chair, just as the phone rang in the next room. Her pupils shrank as though she had awoken from a trance, and she quietly excused herself to get the phone.

Ryan watched her ass shift and jiggle as she walked away, and as soon as she had left the room, he quickly tore himself from the chair. He let himself out the door as quietly as possible and headed down the street.
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Old 08-14-2014, 01:26 PM   #8
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Chapter 4

Ryan grabbed his mug from the counter and sat down at a small table in the back corner of the coffee shop. The coffee was vile, a thin, tasteless brown liquid, but he sipped on it without noticing. He slouched in his chair and watched other customers place their orders at the counter.

Why had he left? Why had he gone in the first place, for that matter? For a long time he’d allowed himself to be carried along by his obsession with Kim. As long as she had been his coworker or out of his life, it wasn’t dangerous. He was never going to cheat on Rose. But today he had come too close to the edge. He couldn’t shake the way Kim had looked at him when she finished eating. Did she want him, too? Why else would she share all the intimate details of her constant feeding?

His phone buzzed with a call from Kim - the fifth in the hour since he’d left her house. He’d walked for almost a half hour before settling on this place, and he looked around now as he sipped his coffee. Paint was peeling from the walls in his corner of the room, and many of the misshapen chairs supported visibly uncomfortable customers. A short, pasty-looking guy in a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off was ordering at the counter. Ryan ignored his phone tried to think about anything but Kim, and soon his thoughts settled on the Kaplan campaign. He was genuinely excited about it, but the anti-obesity part was getting under his skin. Maybe, he thought, I should write a letter to the editor about it. Does anybody even read those anymore, though? He would probably just look like a lone crazy guy anyway.

Now a thick black woman with the biggest chest Ryan had ever seen was ordering. She was fat, to be sure, but her breasts, two massive things that sunk to the middle of her belly in a t-shirt that barely contained them, completely outclassed the rest of her body. Ryan wasn’t much of a breast man, but he couldn’t take his eyes off these wonders, and he watched them sway slightly but majestically as she leaned over to pick up her chai, walked from the counter, worked her way to the back of the shop, and -

Slap!

Ryan’s cheek stung as he looked up again in shock and indignation.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked. “My eyes are up here, you piece of shit.”

Ryan mumbled an apology as he slid back into his chair, gingerly touching his cheek and avoiding all eye contact with the irate woman he had just ogled.

* * *

Marvin sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen as the clock over the stove silently switched from “5:59” to “6:00.” He glanced over at Kim, who was standing by the counter and distractedly slurping down a milkshake.

“Kim, you’ve barely said two words since I got home. What’s up?”

She slurped loudly, pulled the milkshake away from her lips, and belched. “Nothing. Just a boring day.”

Marvin frowned. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, placed it on the counter and began to scroll through his emails. The doorbell rang, and Kim started. “I’ll get it,” she said and hurried out of the room before Marvin could say anything. From the kitchen, he heard the door open, and a few muffled words were exchanged before Kim yelled, “Wait, hang on!” On edge, Marvin stood up and moved to the door, where Ryan suddenly appeared. Marvin froze, surprised. Ryan looked frazzled, his hair disheveled and his hands a little shaky.

“Ryan,” said Marvin slowly and deliberately, “what are you doing here?”

Ryan suddenly calmed himself and said without irony, “I want in on the business.”

Marvin said nothing for a few seconds and then burst into laughter as Kim came into the room, panting from a quick trip up the stairs. “You want in on the business? You want in on the business?” He laughed again. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“I worked in finance,” Ryan said firmly but unconvincingly. “I could help you out.” Marvin just continued to laugh. “Seriously, Marvin, I’m a hard-working guy, and I need this. Times have been tough.”

“Doesn’t look like times have been tough, given the size of your girlfriend.”

“Ryan,” breathed Kim, “didn’t you tell me you just got a raise, too?”

Ryan clenched his fists, and Marvin took a step back, still chuckling. “Listen, Ryan, I think you better take a couple breaths and step outside.”

“I’ll leak the whole feederism thing.”

Marvin stopped laughing.

“Sure, at first maybe people will think I’m crazy. But some tabloids will pick it up and get pictures of Kim, and that’ll lead to bigger papers getting in on the story. Before long, everyone will know that buying your weed just pays for your wife’s fetish.”

Kim’s face registered dismay and indignation. “Ryan, what the fuck?”

“You wouldn’t,” whispered Marvin.

“I would,” nodded Ryan, his fixed with quiet intensity on Marvin’s.

Kim bent her knees a little and pressed her hands anxiously into her thighs. “It wouldn’t work anyway, baby. Right? It doesn’t matter if Ryan tells anyone; people still want to be your customers.”

Marvin kept watching Ryan as he sat down at the island. “You really mean it, don’t you?” He tapped his thumb against the counter absently as he thought as Kim paced in and out of the room. Marvin couldn’t tell just what Ryan was thinking; his extortionist had leaned back against the wall, but his fists remained clenched and his jaw set. He was clearly as freaked as Marvin himself, but Marvin didn’t know whether he was bluffing.

“All right,” said Marvin. “You will never be part of my business, no matter what you threaten to do, but I’ll give you access to Kim’s personal chefs and bakers. The cupcake people, the Italian people, the sushi people, everyone.” Ryan’s pupils narrowed, and Marvin knew that he had him. “You’ve got them for a year. Our orders and our work will always take precedence over yours, but when they’re not making food for Kim, you can have them do anything you want. And you’ll pay them half the rate we do.”

Ryan stepped forward, extending his hand, and which Marvin accepted after a few seconds. “You know the deal,” said Ryan. “You know what happens if you renege.” And he turned and left the room.

Kim slammed her hands against the counter. “Fuck!” Marvin thought she might cry, but Ryan’s betrayal only infuriated her. Her eyes darted from Marvin to the door and back again, and for a moment he expected her to chase after her former colleague. But she just shook her head and walked out into the family room. She returned moments later.

“Why half? Why would you make it so easy for him?”

“If the chefs are only making half on Ryan what they make from us, they’ll only want to do so much work for him. Good for Ryan, good for us, too.” Kim sighed and slurped down the rest of her milkshake. Marvin poured himself a glass of whisky and began to write an email to his small army of personal chefs.

* * *

Ryan could barely keep his hands from shaking while he fixed Rose another margarita. She laughed at the kitchen table and stuffed four or five chips into her mouth, her pants undone and shirt rolled up to let her belly spill out on her lap. “Come on, man!” she yelled. “I’m thirsty!”

“This is your third one already! And I don’t think the salt is gonna help you with that thirst.”

“Whatever,” she laughed, stumbling up to the counter and pulling the drink out of his hand. She down it in a few gulps and licked the salt from the rim. “Make me another one,” she said as she dragged another bag of chips from the back of the counter, pushing her belly into Ryan as she leaned. He turned around, grinning and grabbing the belly with both hands to feel its heft, as his cock hardened and pushed into her rolls, too. She giggled as she felt the pressure and pushed into him harder. Before he could make her another drink, she pulled the tequila from his hands and drained its contents, almost enough for two more margaritas.

“When is she gonna get here?” asked Rose, collapsing back into her chair. “I’m hungry, too.”

“Hungry? You just finished two burgers and all the fries I made like twenty minutes ago!”

“So?” she said, rubbing her belly. “I got hungry again. Ryan, it’s like all this time you couldn’t afford to feed me, I’ve been holding back my appetite. And now that you can - now that you have Kim’s cooks - I don’t think you’re gonna be able to fill me up. We have a lot of time to make up for.” She shoved another handful of chips into her mouth.

“We sure do,” said Ryan, and he began to move toward her just as the doorbell rang. Rose leapt out of her chair, her belly on full display and ran into the next room to answer the door. Ryan followed close behind. “Rose, your clothes!”

But by then Rose had already opened the door, and the owner of the cupcake bakery stood before them. Ryan recognized her - he’d been to that bakery plenty of times - but since she had started working for Marvin and Kim, it was clear she had put on a few pounds herself. She wore a tight blue sleeveless dress that stopped a couple inches above her knees, her 50” hips and slight belly filling it in and then some. Her round, bare arms were especially fat for her size, and she’d pulled her black hair back into a tight bun, accentuating the roundness of her cheeks and slight double chin. Ryan figured she was in her mid-40s - her teenage daughter worked with her in the summer - but she was surprisingly youthful for her age. She held two covered picnic baskets in her hands.

“Don’t worry,” she smiled, speaking with a slight Italian accent. “Ms. O’Neill often dresses...economically when I arrive. Feel free to leave your belly as it is.”

Rose grinned and took a few steps backward, plumping into the sofa behind her. The cupcake woman followed her at Ryan’s invitation, placing the cupcakes on the coffee table.

“My name is Lucia, and I thought tonight I would bring by a complimentary sampler so you might better understand our products.” She pulled the cloth off the first basket, revealing a dozen or more cupcakes of varying size. The second basket was full of cannoli and eclairs. “What would you like to begin with?”

“How about the green one?”

“Ah, yes, it’s a mint cupcake,” said Lucia, pulling a tiny, bright green cake from the basket. She removed the wrapper and handed it to Rose, who licked the frosting slightly and quickly slid it between her lips. She leaned back, moaning with pleasure and chewing the cupcake, her cheeks and double chin jiggling as she worked. Lucia wasted no time: she selected another cupcake, a small brown one that Ryan took for cinnamon, and leaned over the coffee table to slide it directly from its wrapper into Rose mouth. Rose’s eyes flicked open in surprise, but she didn’t resist, moaning again as she accepted the treat. Ryan resisted the urge to kick out Lucia and fuck Rose right on the couch.

“We also included several kinds of chocolate cupcake, as well as a vanilla, three red velvets, and a carrot cake. There are also salted caramels beneath the cupcake layer.”

Rose swallowed and nodded her head at the other basket. “What about these?”

“It’s quite simple,” said Lucia, lifting a cannoli from the basket as she spoke. “The cannoli are all the same, and the eclairs are divided into chocolate and vanilla cream.” Rose took the cannoli from Lucia’s hand. She consumed it in four bites, stuffing it in faster than she could swallow, spilling crumbs on her chest that she snatched up carefully after she had finished.

“I think you know what you need to know,” said Lucia, standing up. “We hope you enjoy our gift and look forward to doing business with you.”

“Th-thank you,” Ryan stammered as he showed her the door. He turned around to find Rose shoving an entire large, chocolate cupcake into her mouth, and he immediately began to undo his pants.

“No,” she complained, her words muffled by the cupcake. “Not yet.” Ryan still slid off his pants and underwear, his hard cock sticking right out in front of him. He kissed her soft neck and pulled off her pants while she popped another small cupcake in her mouth. Her panties were hot and wet, and he pressed he cock against her clit as he continued to kiss her. She moaned but pushed him away halfheartedly, reaching for an eclair. She bit off one end, swallowed, and sucked the filling from the rest of the treat.

Ryan now slid to his knees, pulling off her panties and running his tongue over her clit, in and out of her lips, almost immobilizing her with pleasure. She arched her back while Ryan’s tongue ran circles around her clit and his hands kneaded her belly, but still she insisted on gradually leaning to the side to grab another eclair. She pushed it into her mouth, barely chewing, swallowing it almost as fast as it entered. Ryan pulled away from her pussy briefly and saw her fat face flushed with fullness and arousal.

“Fuck me,” she breathed, out of breath already.

Ryan quickly turned her lengthwise on the sofa, moving on top of her and sliding himself inside her. Her cheeks flushed further as her belly and double chin, squashed toward her faced at this angle, shook with every thrust. She let out quiet moans and gasps and even, at one point, a belch.

“You think you’re fat?” said Ryan as he pushed into her.

“I want to be...so...fat.”

“You will be. You’re gonna get so fat for me.”

“No,” she gasped, “not for you. I need to be a huge...fat pig...and you...are gonna help me.”

Ryan’s cock throbbed larger. “You’ll be too fat to fuck when I’m done with you.” And he shoved a chocolate eclair in Rose’s mouth.

Her ice-blue eyes widened as she felt eclair on her lips, and she let out a sound, a moan and a scream at once, as she bit down on it, sucking it in, bringing her chubby fingers to her mouth to push it in faster. With the final bite still between her lips, she threw back her pillowy arms reflexively, her fists clenched and her eyes shut tight as she came. The sight of his girlfriend completely overwhelmed by greed and lust was more than Ryan could take, and he exploded inside of her at the same time.

Ryan leaned back and slid onto the sofa beside Rose. She barely moved for almost a minute, just sliding her chubby calves onto his lap while she swallowed the last bit of eclair.

“Baby?” she panted.

“Yeah, babe?” he said as he watched the cum drip from between her legs.

“Get me those caramels from the cupcake basket. All of them.”
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Old 08-16-2014, 06:59 PM   #9
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Default Awesome!

Amazingly good, and very well-written! Please, the next chapter!

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Old 08-17-2014, 06:00 PM   #10
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Quote:
Originally Posted by tarquin View Post
Amazingly good, and very well-written! Please, the next chapter!

Thank you! I'll churn it out as soon as I can.
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Old 06-10-2015, 03:37 PM   #11
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Default Part II

Ch 5

It was a slow day at work, so Ryan logged on to Facebook to look at old pictures of his girlfriend. Until the Chipotle windfall, Rose had been so ashamed of her gaining plateau that she wouldn’t let anyone take pictures of her, let alone post them online. But the day after being stuffed with cupcakes and eclairs, she was so elated that she asked Ryan to take her photo. It was right there on Facebook: July 15, 2014, Rose standing in their front yard in shorts and a crop top that showed off her upper belly beautifully. That picture might never have happened: Rose barely kept down her massive dinner and dessert from the previous night. She and Ryan had spent half the night sitting on the bathroom floor, Rose focusing all she had on not barfing into the toilet. They both realized that there was no way she could start eating so much food at once, that she’d have to pace herself. But making it through the night felt like a good omen to Rose, and she started off the next day in high spirits.

The next picture was from November: Max Kaplan’s victory party. In the end, Ryan had volunteered for the campaign, which was a resounding success: Kaplan had crushed his opponent, locking down 70% of the vote. In the photo, Ryan was sitting on a chair, his tie undone and a fist wrapped around a glass of champagne thrusting into the air. On top of him was Rose, her now-270-lb body stuffed into a undersized black and white dress. It was only a small gain over the course of four months, but it showed: her belly bulged forward, her hips outward. The silly, drunken grin on her face accentuated her rounder cheeks and the double chin that most noticeably showed her gain. It didn’t show in the picture, but Ryan distinctly remembered the feeling of his erect member pressing into Rose’s fat ass.

The holidays were good to Rose that year. They spent a hefty chunk of their hush-money on Thanksgiving and Christmas alone, milking Marvin’s private chefs for everything they were worth. Starting a week before each holiday, each day’s dinner became even more opulent than the last. On Thanksgiving, it culminated in three whole plates of food, overflowing with turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, and stuffing, and two huge pieces of pecan pie with maple syrup. Ryan’s family came to town for the holiday, and they couldn’t believe how much food Rose put away. Not that anyone said anything: Ryan had always dated fat girls, and they just assumed that all fat people were gluttons. But to see it in person was something else. Rose, on the other hand, could definitely believe she’d eaten that much: she couldn’t move from the table for hours, and she would have slept there if Ryan hadn’t convinced her to make the slow and painful trek to bed.

They celebrated a similarly opulent Christmas on their own, and New Years involved impressive amounts of overconsumption, too. By January, it showed. Ryan was now looking at a photo from late in the month, when the Kaplan administration had offered him a job in the city planning department. It wasn’t finance, but he’d demonstrated such impressive managerial skills during the campaign that they offered him the position as soon as it opened up. In the picture, he and Rose were standing in front of city hall. Ryan was grinning, elated at obtaining a government job that, remarkably, paid much better than his bank job had. Rose, too, was elated: she had officially passed the 300 mark the day before, packing on 30 lbs in just two months. You couldn’t see much of her figure, but her coat was clearly multiple sizes too small and could barely contain her. Her round face was smiling widely at the camera, visibly fatter even behind the partial screen of her longer hair.

Ryan pushed away from his desk, a small smirk of contentment and arousal on his face. The rest of the year had seen smaller gains for Rose, especially after they lost access to Marvin’s chefs in July, but she had never plateaued. They both took satisfaction from knowing that, whether they could see it happening or not, Rose was getting fatter every day, and Ryan now made enough money to keep it up indefinitely.

A knock on Ryan’s office door broke his reverie. “Yup!” he said.

Miguel, the department secretary, poked his shaved head in the door. “Rose is here for lunch.”

“Thanks, Miguel.”

Ryan grabbed his coat and shut his office door behind him, rounding the corner to see his stunning, 345-pound girlfriend sitting in the lobby. Rose had never found another job, but every time she visited Ryan at work she dressed professionally. Sort of professionally, anyway: her clothes were already far too small, with her fat legs stuffed into gray slacks and her now enormous upper belly straining against the buttons of a white blouse. Even her breasts had grown over the past year, and by leaving the top few buttons undone Rose showed off her increasingly ample cleavage. She flashed a bright smile at Ryan, her double chin pushing against her thick neck and making it look even wider. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, ma’am!” he said gleefully. He helped her put on her coat and sauntered out the door, his girlfriend waddling beside him.

* * *

Rose came in for lunch three times a week, and they always went out for an opulent lunch in the area. The neighborhood around city hall had gentrified even further over the past year and a half, so they had no shortage of trendy, high-calorie options to choose from.

“What are you feeling today, babe?” Ryan asked as they walked down a snowy sidewalk. “We did Indian on Friday. How about Italian?”

“Nah,” she said, screwing up her face, “I didn’t get nearly enough Indian last week.” Even though she’d eaten enough to feed a smaller woman for a whole day. “Let’s go back. But I’m thirsty: can we stop for a drink first?”

“Sure thing, babe.” A “drink” meant a Double Gulp of Dr. Pepper from the 7-11 around the corner, which in turn meant passing by Kim and Marvin’s old place. Ryan didn’t know when they’d moved, but it already had new owners by the time he got his city hall job: a young couple with a kid. Even with Kim and Marvin gone, he’d avoided this street for the first few months of his job, but Rose’s constant thirst for soda forced him to work up the courage to take this route. He never saw Kim anyway, here or anywhere else. It was like she knew exactly where he was at all times, just so she could avoid him.

As they left the 7-11, Ryan looked down at his corpulent girlfriend, who was obliviously inhaling her 64-oz soda. He smiled: his obsession with Kim had lingered for a few weeks after the confrontation with Marvin, but before he knew it he hardly thought of Kim at all. Now, whenever he and Rose had sex, Rose - the constantly growing butterball riding him in bed - was the only one on his mind. He figured the whole Kim thing had only been displaced frustration in the first place: once Rose started gaining again, she was happy, and he was happy. He didn’t need Kim anymore.

They stepped into the lobby of the Indian place, and Ryan held onto the rest of Rose’s drink while she went to the restroom and the hostess looked for a table for them. (They were clear: “No booths!”) Ryan thrummed his fingers on the cup and scanned the restaurant, quickly spotting a few other city hall employees. They weren’t co-workers: in fact, they were subcontractors, brought in from huge corporate gyms and nutrition companies to work on Kaplan’s anti-obesity campaign. It was still the only part of Kaplan’s government that Ryan couldn’t get behind - that drove him crazy, in truth. He didn’t even know the people sitting at the table across the restaurant - he’d only seen them around the building a few times - but he hated them anyway, for what they represented.

They were all cracking up about something. Ryan couldn’t tell what, but several of them were practically lying on the table while one guy puffed up his cheeks and waved his arms in the air. The same guy slowly spread his hands above all the food on the table, and one woman, a short blond with a pinched face, sneered in disgust. Then an especially loud young guy - he might’ve still been in college for all Ryan new - joined the fray.

“She’s a freaking whale!” he roared. “Couldn’t barely fit in the chairs, but she kept eating anyway.” Ryan rolled his eyes: predictable. “She’s probably doubled in size since we met her. Her clothes are way too tight, and she could hide a whole person in her belly. I have no fuckin’ idea why Ryan’s into her.”

Ryan’s fingers tensed, popping the lid off Rose’s Double Gulp. Rose. They were talking about Rose. Before he could stop himself, Ryan’s feet were carrying him across the restaurant. “Uh, sir…” the hostess mumbled, timidly reaching out her hand, but he blew past her. The loud guy only had a moment to look up, fear briefly registering in his contracting pupils, when the soda flew into his face, spilling on the table and covering his shirt in bubbling, red-brown liquid.

“What the fuck,” the loud guy yelled as he shot out of his chair, but he shut up as soon as he recognized his assailant. “Listen, man, I didn’t mean…” But the restaurant manager intervened, dragging a livid but silent Ryan outside and leaving a deeply confused Rose to trail behind them. They were informed that they wouldn’t be welcome in this restaurant again.
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Old 07-13-2015, 01:38 PM   #12
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Exceptionally good fiction. I greatly look forward to further chapters.
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Old 03-26-2018, 07:42 PM   #13
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Default Chapter 6

After being away from this story for a long time, I'm coming back to it and will try to finish it up. Thanks for reading, and if you feel like it leave me a comment and let me know what you think!

Chapter 6


“What the hell was that about?” asked Rose as she hustled after Ryan as quickly as her stocky legs would carry her.

“Nothing,” he said, staring straight ahead as he walked.

“Didn’t seem like nothing.”

“Don’t worry about it. There’s just a thing between us. It’s nothing.”

“There’s never a ‘thing’ between you and anybody. You’re not the sort of person who gets thrown out of restaurants. If this guy--”

He spun around, exasperated. “You just have to trust me, okay? There are some real motherfuckers in city hall; it’s part of the job. I’m not going to bring all of that home and burden you with it.” He was never this short with Rose, and he wanted to explain everything, but he couldn’t bring himself to subject her to the humiliation of the contractor’s mockery.

Rose pursed her lips and rolled her pale blue eyes; she knew Ryan wasn’t leveling with her. She abruptly turned and walked into hole-in-the-wall pizza shop they were passing, leaving Ryan to scramble in after her.

“You wanna do pizza for lunch instead?” he asked. No answer, but she just reached into the spinning display of individual slices that sat on the counter and pulled out two slices of pepperoni, downing one in a quick handful of bites and walking back out onto the street with the other. The tall, scrawny redheaded kid behind the register had frozen--he didn’t really know how to respond to such brazen behavior--but Ryan threw a crumpled ten on the counter and followed Rose out.

“Stop making a scene,” he hissed quietly. “I’m not being difficult; I really just can’t tell you more about that guy.”

No response. She popped the last bit of crust into her mouth and walked into an ice cream shop and stepped up to the display case. Smooshing her belly against the glass, she looked at the various tubs inside before stepping behind the counter and filling a large styrofoam cup at the milkshake machine.

“Wh-, what are you doing?” asked a flabbergasted, chubby girl with an ice cream scoop still in her hand.

“Making a large chocolate-peanut butter milkshake. With Oreos.”

Ryan burst into the shop now and stepped behind the counter, too. “I’m so sorry--”

“Sir,” the girl cut him off, “we can’t have you back here either. I need both of you--”

“I’ll pay for whatever she--” he said, interposing himself between the girl and Rose.

“Sir, it’s not about money...” said the girl, angling to get past him, but quickly Rose finished making her milkshake and sauntered out with it. Ryan apologized profusely, left a twenty on the counter, and dashed out of the shop. He caught up to Rose and fell into step next to her. She wasn’t moving very fast.

“Are you satisfied?” he asked.

She took a long drag on her milkshake before answering. “No,” she said, smacking her lips in appreciation of the shake. “I think it’s time for lunch.”

They walked for a few more minutes in silence, and after she finished her shake and tossed it in a trash can, she settled on a different Indian restaurant. Here, too, Ryan made sure they got a table, not a booth, but he also suspected that Rose was still very uncomfortable resting her substantial bulk on such tiny chairs. Before long their table was covered with chicken tikka masala, saag paneer, samosas, pakoras, plain naan, garlic naan, and two orders of rice. It was more than they could finish, but Rose loved having a full spread, and the leftovers wouldn’t go to waste.

By now, Ryan wasn’t hungry, and Rose still wouldn’t meet his gaze. She was just tearing off small pieces of naan and dipping them the sauce of each dish, barely missing a beat between each bite.

“So,” he said, sighing, “that guy’s just a real dick. He’s always talking shit about people, some of my people, and at some point enough’s enough. That’s all. Straw that broke the camel’s back.”

Rose looked up and licked the sauce off a couple fingers. “You just don’t usually go around throwing pop in people’s faces.” She smirked. “You could barely get Marvin to give us what he owed us.”

Ryan grimaced; the explicit mention of Marvin or Kim still made him uncomfortable. He shrugged. “City Hall’s different. It’s not like the bank was. I’m tired all the time, and believe me, it’s not like I do things like this every day. I never do. But today I did.”

Rose put a plump hand on Ryan’s and looked at him sincerely. “That’s really all?”

He nodded. “Really.”

She squeezed his fingers and smiled a little. “Wanna come show me you’re feeling better?”

The success of Ryan’s lie and the gist of Rose’s innuendo set his heart to beating faster and lifted his cock inside his pants. “Fuck yes.”

“Give me a sec to go in first,” she said and went to get up, but she hesitated three times to stuff three more sopping bites of naan into her mouth, stuffing her cheeks because she didn’t leave herself time to swallow. She heaved herself out of the chair and through a full mouth incomprehensibly asked a baffled waiter for more naan before waddling off to a single-occupant, unisex bathroom, and thirty seconds later Ryan followed her. She let him in and locked the door.

“Think anyone saw you?” she asked, the corner of her mouth smeared with creamy tomato sauce.

“Who cares?” said Ryan as he bent down and pressed his lips against hers.

Rose insisted on climbing onto a shelf behind her, but given her substantial body it took some time for her to get up, with Ryan pushing her from below and her trying to use a small cabinet as a step up. Once perched on the shelf, he painstakingly pulled her slacks down, lifted her belly, and buried his face in her pussy. When she came she shook so violently that the shelf cracked a little, sending her falling to the floor on top of Ryan. While he made sure had hadn’t suffered a concussion, Rose spun around laboriously and unzipped his pants, bending down to blow him. He came in less than a minute.

After they finished, two of them just sat there panting, and Rose twisted her fat body around as best she could to grin at Ryan. “Ok, I believe you,” she said. “You’re feeling better.” They stood up and Ryan pulled up his pants, and Rose told him not to wait up for her. “I need a few minutes to get myself together.”

“What do we do about the shelf?”

Rose waved him off. “Whatever. I’ll just say it was like this when I came in if they ask.”

Ryan carefully opened the door and stepped out to a line of three women watching him suspiciously, but he kept his eyes down and returned to his seat. He plucked a hot piece of fresh naan out of the basket and chewed on it thoughtfully as the awkwardness of his earlier lies returned to him. He hadn’t lied to Rose in a long time; he did his best to keep his thoughts free of Kim, the only person who’d ever led him to be secretive around his girlfriend. And besides, he rationalized, this lie wasn’t about emotional infidelity. It was about protecting Rose’s feelings.

He was staring out the front window of the restaurant while he thought, and he noticed an extremely fat woman passing on the other side of the street. He stopped chewing and stared closer. There might have been a lot of fat people in Southvale, but he’d never seen anyone this fat. She was tall, brown hair pulled up into a loose bun, with a cute but much-too-small gray jacket hanging open and unbuttoned. A tremendous belly pushed her green dress far in front of her and caused the hem to fall much higher above the ground, revealing pale calves the size of footballs and thighs as big as beer kegs. Ryan couldn’t believe there was enough space between those thighs to allow them to move past each other, but in small, effortful steps the woman somehow moved forward.

Suddenly he saw another enormous woman behind her, this one almost all belly, hundreds of pounds of belly by the look of it. She sat on a mobility scooter that was catching up slowly to the first woman, seemingly sluggish under its drivers bulk. And then there was a third, and a fourth and fifth, a gaggle of super-obese women inching their way along the street and ultimately into a bakery. The reflection on the bakery windows meant that Ryan lost sight of the women, but he was dumbfounded.

Rose returned and noticed his confusion. “What’s up?”

He shook his head slowly. “Have you noticed more fat people around lately?”

“What are you talking about,” she said, popping a pakora in her mouth and chewing loudly. “There’s lots of fat people in Southvale.”

“Right, but, like, really fat people.”

Rose raised an eyebrow and took a bite of chicken. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Ryan shook himself out of it, and they chatted while Rose ate to her satisfaction. Ryan had the leftovers packaged up and paid for the meal, and they were on their way.

Outside City Hall, he handed Rose the bag of leftovers and kissed her fat cheek. “I’ll try not to stay too late.”

“You better not,” and she bumped her body against him playfully. He squeezed her side and stepped inside while she waddled off. Miguel waved as he walked into his office suite.

“You’ve got someone here to see you. I just asked him to wait in your office.”

“Sure,” said Ryan. “Who is it?”

He didn’t hear Miguel’s words as he walked in and saw Marvin O’Neill sitting in one of the chairs opposite his desk.

Ryan closed the door, walked behind his desk, and slowly lowered himself into his own chair. “I did not expect to see you here,” he said finally.

“And I did not expect to be here,” said Marvin, eyebrows raised as he looked down at the floor before meeting Ryan’s gaze. “And yet here I am. As much as I hate to say it, I need a favor.”

Ryan leaned back in his chair, totally confused by trying to maintain a calm demeanor. “Okay. What’s going on?”

“So, you already know that my business basically exist to feed Kim. And I think she already told you about her idea to expand beyond her, so to speak - to start up some kind of clinic, a reverse fat camp, where other feedees can pay to come get pampered and fattened here, too. And how I wasn’t willing to do that.”

Ryan nodded.

“Well, Ryan, business is booming, and I have more money than I know what to do with. Our revenues are through the roof. And there are basically two things I can do with that: use it to fund an expansion of the weed side of things, or start the clinic. And I’m gonna start the clinic.”

Ryan leaned forward in his chair. “What made you change your mind?”

Marvin shrugged and smiled knowingly. “Kim’s a very persuasive woman.” Ryan tried not to nod too vigorously in agreement. “But,” Marvin continued, “that doesn’t make me any less scared than I was before. This cannot be public information. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to need the permits and all the paperwork necessary to buy new buildings and set up the clinic in them. And that’s where you come in: I need you to fudge the paperwork and keep my real business off the books. I don’t care what you do, but the city cannot know - fucking Max Kaplan especially cannot know - that there’s a feedist training camp growing right under his nose.”

“Is this why I’ve been seeing a bunch of fat women around town?”

Marvin laughed. “Yeah, we jumped the gun a little. There’s already a few folks who’ve come in from out of town. We’re not doing any open advertising, just word of mouth, and they’re staying at our place for now. But we barely have enough room for the few guests we have, let alone a whole clinic. That’s why we’re expanding.”

“Okay!” Ryan nodded and thought for a second. “So what’s in it for me?”

“I can’t believe you’re still so fucking cheeky,” said Marvin, “after what you put us through before. But that’s an asset, honestly: you already know my secret. So if you’re willing to keep it that way and get me the papers I need, I’ll give Rose free, full-time access to the place. As long as you keep me out of the news and out of jail, she can come fatten up with us.”

Ryan just kept nodding, but his face was flushing and he was getting an erection at the same time. He had not expected Marvin ever to come back into his life--and did this mean that Kim would, too? Would Kim and Rose be gorging themselves side by side? His head was swimming; he didn’t know how to process all this information.

“Ryan,” said Marvin, leaning forward and whispering, “I know this isn’t legal, but this Kaplan fitness bullshit must be driving you up the fucking wall. Don’t you want a way to hit him back on that?”

Ryan was still adrift, but he knew the answer to this question. “I do.”

“Good,” saying Marvin, leaning back. “Just make sure you keep it quiet. Nobody can know about this. I’m a black guy with a weed business who’s paying out bribes so he can secretly fatten his wife and as many other women as he can bus to Southvale. I don’t know how many more stereotypes and conspiracy theories you could stuff into one person. If this story gets out, I am done. Nobody gets to live their fantasy: not you or me, not Kim, not Rose. So are you sure you can do this?”

Ryan stood up, steadied himself against his desk, and reached out across the table. “You have my word.” They shook on it.
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Old 03-29-2018, 02:58 PM   #14
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Default Chapter 7

Ryan looked down at his phone for the tenth time today, verifying the date once again: March 31. He couldn’t believe how warm it was this early in the year, and he took off his coat and carried it over his arm so he wouldn’t start sweating as he walked down the street. After work, he’d taken a bus to a far-flung neighborhood in Southvale and walked for about 20 minutes into a district dense with warehouses. The idea, Marvin had told him, was to set up the his feedist “Spa” as far as possible from prying eyes. It was hard to hide fat folks, especially high-volume flows of fat folks. But today, for the first time, Ryan would get to see the operation in person. Marvin had opened about a week ago, and Rose had checked in yesterday and spent the night, but Ryan hadn’t been able to find the time to see the place in action. Until now.

As he approached, he could see Marvin with a smug smile on his face, leaning in the doorway of a huge, solid red warehouse.

“Nice paint job!” Ryan yelled out.

Marvin just shrugged. “Red’s good for the appetite.” He patted Ryan on the shoulder and ushered him in. The past few months of collaboration had warmed relations between the two men. They weren’t close, exactly, but they trusted each other enough to let their guard down, to joke around a little.

They walked into a cavernous, gray space dimly lit by fluorescent lights far above. Endless bags of weed sat in bins on shelves, sorted into different grades and strengths. They were the only two people in the space.

“So this is the front?” asked Ryan.

“Yep. Inspector comes by, this is all they see.”

“It won’t be long till they do come by,” said Ryan. “A week, maybe two. I’ll try to give you as much notice as I can, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

“I’m already ready,” said Marvin as he guided Ryan across the floor to a door at the far end. They passed through, wound through several twists of dim, gray hallway, and approached a red door.

“You expect fat women to do all this walking?” asked Ryan.

“Nah; there’s another entrance for them. But you need to see the whole place.”

He pushed open the red door, and they stepped into a gorgeous lobby with marble floors, opaque glass walls, and a reception desk carved out of rich wood. The name “The Spa” was carved into the front of the desk in curly script, the bottom curve of the “S” much larger and more generous than the top. A short Hispanic woman, maybe 200 pounds, sat behind the desk, full lips and a brilliant white grin floating above bulging breasts that strained against her white blouse.

“Good to see you, Mr. O’Neill,” she said, smiling familiarly, “and welcome to the Spa, Mr. Sweet.”

“Just Ryan,” he said, nodding nervously.

“We’re just passing through, Ana,” said Marvin. “I’m giving Ryan the tour.”

“I’ll let you through,” said Ana, and as she turned to press a button behind her Ryan couldn’t help but notice the beginnings of back fat pressing out just above the waist of her skirt. But he didn’t have time to linger: a door opened to his left, and Marvin whisked him through.

They stepped into what Marvin called the reception hall, which looked to Ryan like a high-end cafeteria. It was a large space filled with round, six-person tables and lined at the edges with buffet counters. Most of the tables were empty, except for a few where a Spa employee sat across from a guest, chatting amiably while the guest munched on a snack from the buffet.

“There is where our clients get their orientation,” said Marvin. “Once a client, a guest, checks in, a concierge--”

“‘Concierge?’” Ryan raised his eyebrows, and Marvin just laughed and said “fuck you” under his breath before continuing.

“A concierge sits down with them to review the details of the package they’ve bought, give them a map of the place, things like that.”

“What are the packages like?”

“We’ve got all sorts,” said Marvin, puffing up with pride. “If you’re local, you can drop in for just a full day of indulgence. You might come from a nearby town and make a weekend of it. We’ve got a few lawyers from Chicago and folks like that who’re spending a whole week of vacation just to come here and eat. And we’ve got one woman, wife of a CEO, who’s down from Winnetka to spend three whole months with us.”

“Wife of a fucking CEO?”

“Hey, there are more FAs out there than you might think. Guy like that’s gotta keep it on the DL, but his wife is not small, and by the time she leaves us she is not going to be any smaller, either. Anyway, eventually we’ll add more features - I’d love to have little seminars people can take if they want to gain fast, if they want to gain slow, if they want to maintain muscle while they gain, whatever. Make this place more than just a super-sized buffet. But, for now, it’s basically a super-sized buffet.”

They kept moving and passed through an unbelievable number of rooms. This warehouse was huge, Ryan realized, and Marvin had managed to carve it into a plethora of food experiences for his guests in a matter of months. There was a richly appointed fine dining room, a brightly decorated ice cream hall, a cozy sushi restaurant where Ryan actually recognized the “sushi people” whom Kim had called the last time he saw her. Each space was filled with anywhere from a handful to a dozen women of various sizes chowing down on their food of preference.

“You brought your contractors in-house?” he asked, gesturing at the Korean couple who made the sushi.

“Most of ‘em,” said Marvin. “Pay’s good. It was hard for most to turn me down.”

“What about their restaurants?”

“They closed!”

“But how the hell did they explain that to their customers? ‘Sorry, I have to close because I need to fatten other people’s wives full time’?”

“Restaurants close all the time. They don’t have to explain anything. They just need to keep quiet about what it is they actually do, and I made sure there’s in NDA in every one of their contracts.”

While Marvin struck up a conversation with the sushi people, the couple being one of his oldest contractors, Ryan sidled over to a solitary woman with about fifty pieces of sushi on the table in front of her. She had a tremendous slab of an apron belly that grew wider the farther down it went, and that belly was piled on her lap, making it almost impossible for her to lean into the table and pick up her sushi. But she was resolved to eat her fill, and she did, moving each slice of fried roll from its dish to a deep bowl of soy sauce to her mouth with the efficiency of an assembly line, hardly missing a beat between each cycle.

“Excuse me,” said Ryan, “I don’t mean to interrupt…”

The woman just glared at him as she popped a bite of sushi into her mouth, and then another before she’d barely chewed the first.

“I’m really sorry to bother you,” he said, “but Marvin’s giving me a tour, and I wanted to ask a little bit about your experience.”

“Fine,” she said, pausing to lift a tumbler of sake to her lips and gulp it all down impressively fast. “What do you want?”

“Mostly I’m curious how you found out about the place.”

“Online forum,” she admitted, her eyes moving back and forth between Ryan and her remaining sushi. “Wasn’t even a public posting, I just got a private message inviting me to come.”

“Did you know Marvin when he messaged you?”

The woman caved, stuffing another bite of sushi in her mouth and speaking while she chewed. “I knew him ash dreadluck21 on the forum, but no, not pershonally.”

“And did you tell your friends about it?”

“No, he made me shign a non-dishcloshure thing. He shaid he’d do all jhe recruiting himshelf, direct.” At this the woman lost all self-control and resumed full-time, methodical sushi-eating, leaving Ryan to puzzle over Marvin’s advertising strategy by himself. Marvin’s liberal inclusion of NDAs in all his contracts would certainly help keep a lid on what was going on in Southvale, but the whole thing still felt too loose. Sooner or later, Ryan feared, this would get out.

“By the way,” he said to Marvin as they left the room, “did you have dreadlocks when you were younger?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind…”

Ryan’s unease melted away as he and Marvin moved to the dormitory wing and stepped into a private bedroom, where Rose sat on a bed in black-and-white striped pajamas that were at least one size too small, working her way through a plate of nachos and watching Law & Order. She was pushing 360 these days, and it showed in the strain of the pajamas against her huge belly and the fact that the top and bottoms only just barely met, teasing Ryan with the occasional glimpse of her flesh. She perked up and waved as he walked over and pecked her on the cheek.

“So,” he said, “you’ve been here for almost 24 hours. What’s the verdict?”

Amazing,” cooed Rose, patting her massive upper belly repeatedly. “I’ve barely had to leave the bed. Ryan, if you want, you can just stay in bed, and they’ll bring you food. Holy shit it’s so good.” And she navigated the cheesiest nacho Ryan had ever seen into her mouth, opening wide to make way.

“It’s not part of every package,” Marvin chimed in, “but we do have bedside service for our most valued guests, and who, Rose, is more valued to us than you are?” Rose waved off Marvin and muttered “bullshit” at this sudden uptick in salesmanship, but both she and Ryan knew that what he said was true. Rose may not have been a paying customer, strictly speaking, but, through Ryan, Marvin was being compensated with a service that made this whole business possible in the first place.

“You coming home tonight babe?” asked Ryan.

“Yeah, I didn’t bring enough clothes for more than last night, but you bet I’ll be back tomorrow. Holy shit, though, holy shit….” She returned to her nachos.

Ryan and Marvin walked back to the reception and sat down in a couple of very large padded chairs.

“I can’t believe,” said Ryan, “that you turned this from an empty warehouse to...well, this! In just a few months! It’s gorgeous, it’s top notch, and you already have dozens of customers.”

“I had a lot of good incentives to do it,” Marvin beamed.

“I still don’t get it, though,” said Ryan. “You were so opposed. And you told me once that I’d never be part of your business. I can’t believe you ever changed your mind.”

“I mean, you’re still not part of my business, not really. But I cornered myself. Kim wanted this so bad, so I compromised and said she could invite an internet friend of hers from Bloomington to stay with us and get fat with Kim. But one friend became two and two became four, and by then we would’ve been running out of room for six skinny people in a house, let alone five morbidly obese ones and me. I couldn’t walk it back at that point. Nowhere to go but up.”

“At the end of the day, you’re a softie, Marv,” said Ryan. Marvin frowned at the nickname, just like Kim had so many years ago, and then he laughed.

* * *

Three weeks later, Ryan was sitting by himself at a table in the weed-warehouse part of The Spa. He’d spent the last couple hours with Marvin and a team of city health department investigators who were checking to make sure the building was up to code. Ostensibly, Ryan was there in his capacity as a city official, but in reality he was making sure the inspectors didn’t end up snooping where they shouldn’t. They thought it was strange that a mid-level planning manager had made a personal trip out to this forsaken part of the city for a routine inspection, but he assured them that he liked to do this from time to time, to keep in touch with the departments that interacted his. It was late now, and both the inspectors and Marvin had left. Ryan had lingered to finish up some paperwork, and Marvin assured him that the doors would lock behind him.

Ryan put down his pen and rubbed the fatigue from his eyes. He stood up and stretched and looked around, realizing that until he’d followed inspectors around today he’d never really explored this part of the warehouse. There were a lot more nooks and crannies and closets than he’d realized. To get a break from the paperwork, he found himself wandering through the shelves of weed, hoping to find the bags labeled with exotic or ridiculous names but, disappointingly, finding only strings of random numbers and letters. He peeked in a couple closests, only to find mops and buckets and brooms, and then popped into a small, neglected kitchenette, where he foud something altogether unexpected.

Kim.

She was enormous. Ryan guessed she was twice as large as she’d been the last time he saw her, less than two years ago. As ever, she was fat all over, perhaps most of all in her two globular ass cheeks and generous hips, but with a double belly that gave that ass some stiff competition. Her auburn hair was up in a loose twist that showed off her wider, softer neck and double chin, but the kicker was that she was wearing a light, comfortable, figure-hugging gray cotton dress. It hung loose at the bottom, falling just above her chubby knees, but otherwise clung to every inch of her body, to the point that she wouldn’t have revealed much more had she been naked. Ryan could see everything: the heavy lower belly that wrapped around her sides and merged with her back fat, the smaller top belly that pushed out impressively far in front of her, the ass that remained shapely and perky even at this size. At the moment, her ass was especially perky: she was on her tip-toes, as much as her great size would allow, reaching up into a cupboard and rooting around for something. But when Ryan opened the door she yelped and fell back on her heels, taking a step or two back to steady herself as her belly shook slightly from side to side. When she saw who had interrupted her search, she froze. No one spoke for what felt to Ryan like an entire minute.

Finally, he said, “For someone who loves luxury as much as you, this is not where I expected to see you again.”

She glared and flushed a little. Ryan couldn’t figure out what that meant, and then she stepped up to him quickly, forcing him back against the door behind him. Her eyes were furious, her belly just barely grazing him.

“Do you have any idea how angry I was when you fucking extorted Marvin and then left my life?” she said, pushing his shoulder hard.

Ryan hesitated for a second, searching for something to say, and fell flat. “What are you even doing here?” he asked meekly.

“Fuck it,” she said, “we don’t have time for this,” and she pressed her lips and her huge, soft body into his, crushing him against the door while she kissed him. He fumbled with a pull cord he’d seen, dropping some blinds on his head, and Kim pulled him away as the blinds fell to cover the entire window. He overcame his initial shock and kissed her back, reaching around to squeeze her enormous ass cheeks. Thirty seconds ago Kim would have been the last thing from his mind, and now he was getting to do what he had dreamed of for years. Rose, who was probably slurping melted ice cream out of a bowl in a bedroom on the other side of this building, was the furthest thing from his mind. Kim, gorgeous, forbidden, and now even bigger than Rose, was wrapped around him, her flesh invading his senses.

Kim pulled away for a moment, a fat hand resting tenderly on his chest. “Get down those chocolates.” She gestured with her eyes at the cupboard she’d been searching through, and Ryan moved to pull down a box of the fanciest chocolates he had ever seen. He couldn’t even read the box: the whole thing was in French.

“Feed me,” she breathed, and she didn’t have to ask twice. He pulled out one of the chocolates, a smooth, shiny, dark disk, and placed it on her tongue like it was a communion wafer. She chewed a couple times and sucked on the quickly melting chocolate, her eyelids fluttering and closing in pleasure. She pressed herself closer, urgently, and Ryan placed another chocolate in her mouth. Soon she was pushing him against the counter while he fed her chocolate after chocolate, and quiet humming turned to moans as she grabbed a breast and massaged it mindlessly. He fed her another, and another, and another, and when he couldn’t keep up with her desire she reached in herself and grabbed a handful of chocolates, stuffing them in her mouth as she stumbled back a few steps. She leaned against the wall as her body convulsed with pleasure, and she slid to the floor, slowly chewing and swallowing the rest of the confection in her mouth.

“Did,” stammered Ryan, “did this chocolate just make you...come?”

“It’s the best fucking chocolate,” she sighed, panting a little. “Direct from Paris. Yes, it absolutely made me come, my friend, though it had a little help, too.” She grinned at him mischievously, and he went and sat on the floor with her, snuggling up to her warm, soft flesh.

“What was it doing here?”

“Ryan, we have so much food that Marvin keeps it all over the place. I remembered he left some here, in the kitchen--I think he left it here by accident one day--and it was getting so late and I wanted it so badly that I drove over here to find it myself. And then….” She trailed off and turned to look at him, her hazel eyes two pools of relief. “I’m so happy to see you, Ryan.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m fucking mad,” she said, “but sometimes you want to fuck someone more than you want to yell at them. And sometimes you’re just happy to see an old friend.”

Ryan took her soft cheek in his hand and kissed her gently.

Last edited by Benny Mon; 03-29-2018 at 02:59 PM. Reason: formatting
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Old 04-09-2018, 08:33 AM   #15
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Default Chapter 8

“Welcome back to our coverage of the scandal that has rocked the Kaplan administration. Sanitation commissioner Russell ‘Rusty’ Waters has been accused of embezzling $300,000 from the city and spending it on Chinese escorts. His wife, Cynthia, still cannot be reached for comment, but we’re going to head to our correspondent Danyelle Biggs, who’s speaking to…”

Ryan turned away from the bar TV and tried to suppress the nausea rising in him. For more than a year, Max Kaplan’s city government had been almost scandal-free, and he’d been rolling out new policies without a hitch. The city issued new regulations to check rising housing costs downtown, Kaplan had used a slush fund to give city employees their first raise in eight years, and the city council was debating a new campaign finance law. And then, three days ago, it came out that a high-level commissioner in a government dedicated to fighting big money was stealing money from the government and using it to buy hookers. Embezzlement and adultery all at once. Kaplan was playing it off as anomalous, saying they’d had no idea and that this didn’t reflect the values of his administration. And Waters was a carryover from the last mayor. But Ryan worried that the rot ran deep, and he was having a hard time facing the facts about a mayor of whom he’d been so proud to work for. He rotated a half-drunk glass of guinness on the wooden bar in front of him.

Today, he reminded himself, was supposed to be a happy day. It was early September, and already Marvin had opened a second facility, right across the street from his first. He’d held a very, very private ribbon-cutting ceremony and welcomed a fresh batch of guests, bringing his total clientele to about 300 at any given time. Ryan did not understand how Marvin had expanded the business as fast as he had without a single drop in quality, and now while opening a second facility. He was just that good. Still, Ryan worried more every day about keeping The Spa a secret. There were more and more fat women in town all the time, and they didn’t confine themselves to the company premises, taking trips to restaurants and bakeries and all the brunch spots that had invaded the center of the city. Ryan could see one right now, a 250-pound Korean-American college grad and aspiring gainer named Cora. There weren’t many out-of-the-closet Asian gainers, but Cora was fierce and proud, and Ryan could see her now across the street, pounding sliders as she walked out of a White Castle. He watched her thick legs lead her out of sight and waited for everyone else to arrive. Marvin and his top staff were getting together tonight for celebratory drinks here at Devlin’s Pub. Ryan had come early. Over the past few days, he couldn’t stand to be at work any longer than he had to.

The sushi people arrived first, followed by The Spa’s busty receptionist Ana (who seemed especially topheavy, with round arms to rival her ballooning breasts), then Marvin and Kim, then Rose, and gradually many more of Marvin’s cooks and bakers, concierges and clerical staff. With each new arrival Ryan was able to put the Kaplan scandal a little further from his mind, and a second Guinness, and then a third, didn’t hurt. He kept pulling Rose close and ostentatiously kissing her on the cheek, and on the mouth as he began to get drunk. Mid-summer, Rose had hit 375 pounds and was shooting for 400, but she refused to weigh herself until she was convinced she had far surpassed the mark. Tonight she was ordering tequila shots and wearing a simple, sleeveless yellow dress that was dramatically distended in the front by her massive belly (to the point that Ryan couldn’t believe how far the fabric stretched). Rose couldn’t seem to get enough of Ryan’s showy affection, the way she kept giggling and squeezing him back.

She was so wrapped up in it that she didn’t seem to notice his occasional glances at Kim. It struck him sometimes how easy it had become to lie to Rose about why he was home late more often, to omit any mention of his affair. They even spent time as couples with Kim and Marvin from time to time, and Rose seemed to be developing a genuine affection for Kim. She didn’t know that Ryan and Kim saw each other at least once every couple weeks, sometimes more. Building on their torrid encounter in the warehouse kitchenette, they continued to meet in out-of-the-way crannies of Marvin’s first warehouse, steering clear of the The Spa and of its rich stores of food. To be sure, Kim took full advantage of The Spa during the day. (The formal dining room was her favorite; she loved to show up unannounced in long, black ballgowns and order elaborate, seven-course meals.) But she and Ryan met in dimly lit back rooms, where Ryan showed up with plastic bags full of chips and candy bars and grocery-store donuts and cookies that he bought himself. There were never any leftovers, and there was always a condom or two Ryan had to dispose of discreetly. The first time, guilt had flooded in when Ryan headed home, and he was grateful he didn’t have to confront Rose, who was staying overnight at The Spa. But every time he and Kim met, it became easier and easier to feel it was normal, to bury his guilt, to lead two lives in parallel.

Tonight Kim was wearing a black miniskirt that looked vacuum sealed to her and only covered the top third of her thigh, along with a low-backed, flowy gray top. As the night wore on, she worked her way through glass after glass of dark red wine and basket after basket of mozzarella sticks. She was even bigger now than when she and Ryan had reconnected, her neck a little softer and wider, her legs a little thicker. Her hair was down, and Ryan kept watching for her to brush it back to reveal her deepening double chin. She danced a little, too, She didn’t have much stamina, but she put her hands in the air, wrists cocked, and moved her ass with rhythm and grace. She couldn’t dance for more than a few minutes at a time, and she spaced out these spurts with lengthy snack breaks at a nearby table.

Around 11:30, when it was dark out, the bar was packed, and Rose, full of tequila and very tired, had already headed home, Kim danced over to Ryan with wine in one hand an a mozzarella stick in the other and said, “Sorry about the Waters thing, bud.”

“I’m not talking about it right now,” said Ryan, feigning exasperation, and he walked over to the bar to order a shot of whiskey. Kim joined him, but the bar was crowded, so her belly pressed up against him and the person to his right, who sidled out of the way.

“You sure you want that?” she asked. “You know what they say, ‘beer before liquor….””

He just picked up the shot and downed it, maintaining eye contact the whole time, and she laughed drunkenly through her teeth.

“Seriously, though,” she said, “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t just a job for you. You care about what Kaplan’s doing.”

“I did when I started. Now, I don’t know…”

She rubbed him on the shoulder, tearing up a bit in tipsy compassion, and then Marvin walked up abruptly.

“I just got off the phone with Kareem at the new location,” he said, “and I guess one of the new guests broke her bed and is throwing a fit. I gotta go deal with that.” He frowned and turned to Kim. “Might be a while. You should just meet me at home, Kimmy.”

“Because of a bed?” she said.

“Apparently she’s mad about a lot of things,” he sighed. “Anyway, hope I’ll be home sooner rather than later.” He kissed her on the lips and ran out the front door.

Kim and Ryan shrugged at each other and returned to the dance floor. 11:30 turned to 12:30 and 12:30 turned to 2, and eventually they were the only ones left from Marvin’s party. Even then, and as drunk as they were, they tried to keep their mutual attraction invisible, but Kim was pushing the limits, gyrating closer and closer to Ryan. He indiscreetly repositioned a boner and leaned next to her ear and yelled above the music, “We should get out of here!” She gave him an exaggerated, sloppy, horny nod, and in five minutes they were in an Uber on their way to city hall. Kim chose to sit in the middle seat, smooshing Ryan up against the door and deeply confusing their driver. Ryan let them in a side door where the security cameras had a blind spot (he’d thought this through), and they stumbled into halls of the planning department.

“Why are we here?” Kim mused.

“Well we couldn’t go to your place, and we couldn’t go to my place, and Marvin’s could still be at The Spa for all we know, so this is--”

She interrupted him with a sloppy kiss and what amounted to a body slam, resting her hundreds of pounds against him and the wall. Her kissed her back, relishing the heaviness against his body, the extra work he had to do to take a deep breath, and tried to push her off a little. His hand just sank into her belly fat until she realized what he was doing and leaned back a bit.

“How much do you weigh?” he asked. “I haven’t asked you in so long.”

“No fuggin clue,” she slurred. “I’ve been too busy eating. I’m too lazy to stop and weigh myself.”

“I know,” he said, massaging her love handles, which were escaping her skirt and untucking her top on each side. “You’re getting so fat. So fucking fat. I’ve never seen someone get fat as fast as you have. Remember when you were just a stick?”

Gawd, it was terrible.”

“I don’t think Tom at the bank would even recognize you anymore.”

She giggled and pushed her body into him, and he groaned with pleasure.

“I gotta know,” he wheezed, “how fat you are. There’s a huge scale in the mailroom. Let’s go weigh you.”

* * *

Rose was rolling around in bed, slipping in and out of sleep as the tequila blocked her from a deeper slumber. A green blur caught her eye and came into focus: it was the time on the alarm clock, 2:18. She heaved herself in the other direction, expecting to run into Ryan, but he wasn’t there. The bed was empty.

She forced herself into a sitting position, easing some mild queasiness she didn’t know she had. “Ryan?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. She got out of bed, naked, slipped on a too-small sweatsuit, and shuffled around the house while trying to wake up. “Ryan?” she said a little louder. He wasn’t in the kitchen, the TV was off--he wasn’t anywhere. Suddenly she was alert, seized by fear, and she ran back to her room to grab her phone. Her call went straight to voicemail. His phone was dead, or maybe he was.

“Shit, shit, shit shit shit,” she said, slipping on some flip flops, calling an Uber, and running out the door.

* * *

Ryan and Kim stood in the mailroom, Kim breathing a little heavily from the walk. They gazed in silence at the scale, an ancient thing with a broad base to weigh packages on, and a circular dial at the top that displayed the weight.

“It only goes to 100,” said Kim. “Will this work?”

“I promise it will.”

Kim went to step on it but Ryan placed a hand on her flabby arm. “You’d be cheating if you did this with clothes on.”

She grinned back at him mischievously and wrinkled her nose. She was too drunk to say no, too drunk to resist the thrill of stripping in city hall. She grabbed the top of her skirt and shimmied it off laboriously while Ryan pulled off the loose top in one motion. Suddenly she was standing there in nearly nude splendor, wearing nothing but a thin, lacy lavender bra and lacy bottoms obscured by her belly and love handles. Ryan sunk his hands into her hips and kissed her before forcing himself to step back.

“Ok,” he said, “we have to find out. For science.”

“For science!” she shouted a little too loudly, and she stepped on the scale. The needle spun, making one full circuit, and another, and another, and another, still moving. Ryan could hear the springs and gears inside the scale twanging and straining, stretched to their limit, but they held. The needle settled over the number 82.

“Four hundred and eighty-two fucking pounds,” Ryan murmured.

Kim turned to him, flabbergasted, but not too drunk to do the math. “I gained 75 pounds in 6 months.”

“You did,” said Ryan, pressing up to Kim and running his hands over her hips and her ass. “Half the time you eat all day at home.” He kissed her. “Half the time you eat at The Spa.” He ran his hands up her sides and her back fat. “All the time Marvin’s feeding you at night.” His hands ran over her breasts, which he squeezed. “And every now and then I feed you, too.” He kissed her long and deep. “It’s no wonder you’re such a fat pig.”

She turned her head away in mock-disgust. “I told you not to call me a pig.”

“Oh, my bad,” he said and smiled devilishly. “I forgot you’re above that, my queen,” and he bowed deeply.

She shoved him playfully. “What I am is hungry. Is there any food around here?”

“Back in my office.”

“Ugh, we have to walk all that way? And I have to wait that whole time?”

“I promise there’s a good treat at the end of it.”

“Then let’s not waste any more time,” she said and walked off into the hallway half naked, leaving Ryan to scoop up her clothes and follow after.

* * *

Rose got out of her Uber at the pub and rushed inside, her weak, fat legs straining to lift her huge belly with each step. She’d called Marvin on the way, but he told her that he’d neither seen nor heard from Ryan since he’d left. Things were winding down inside the pub, and Ryan was nowhere to be seen. She went up to bartender to ask if he’d seen Ryan leave, but he brushed her off and insisted he didn’t know who she was talking about.

“Christ,” she said as she walked outside again, pulled down the hoodie that kept riding up on her belly, and called another Uber.

* * *

Ryan unlocked his office door and jogged in so he could sweep everything off the top of his desk. In a room full of small chairs with arms, it was the only place Kim could sit remotely comfortably. She staggered into the room, thoroughly winded. It was a risky journey, but he’d managed to guide her nearly naked body down a path that avoided security cameras and security guards. As she plopped her huge ass onto the desk, it creaked sharply in complaint.

“That thing wasn’t built to hold a quarter ton of fat,” said Ryan, crouching down behind the desk and reaching under.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” said Kim, her eyelids drooping a little in drunken fatigue. “I still..I have twenty pounds to go. I don’t want credit till I’ve earned it.”

“Well maybe I can help you along,” he said, cracking open a tiny mini-fridge he kept under the desk. He stood up to reveal a chocolate cake on a cardboard platter, an elaborate, beautiful thing a foot in diameter that he’d picked up from the local gourmet bakery. He brought it around the front of the desk and Kim’s eyes lit up again.

“That for me?”

“Sure is,” he said. Kim had never visited his office before, and he usually used the fridge to keep treats for Rose, but he never discussed Rose around Kim.

Kim actually reached out with her hand, but Ryan push it away gently.

“I thought you weren’t a pig,” he teased, and pulled out a fork. “A queen deserves to be fed.” This time Kim didn’t protest the teasing. She just waited, impatient but still, as Ryan dug the fork into the edge of the cake, lifted up a teetering, oversized bite, and guided it smoothly between Kim’s lips. She had to chew a few times and swallow before she could say, “Oh, fuck…” under her breath, and lean in for another incoming bite. He slowly began to step around the side of the desk and lift the fork higher with each bite, and Kim was forced to lean her fat neck back, to twist her flabby torso around, to lean back further and further to receive each bite. In a minute she was was sprawled flat on her back, her belly and breasts and arms pooled on the desk, her legs hanging off the front, her head hanging limp off the back by the chair, as she accepted bite after bite from Ryan. Suddenly she arched up and twisted around, rotating her body laboriously on the desk until she was on her stomach. The desk creaked and shook as she moved, and even when it held Ryan couldn’t imagine the new position was very comfortable--her stomach could hardly lay flat it was so big. She began reaching out her arms again, grasping at the partly eaten cake, and Ryan hesitated, stepping back.

“So undignified,” he tsked.

“I’m a huge fucking pig,” she admitted, “just give me the fucking cake.” And she finally snatched it out of his hands, burying her face in it with enthusiasm.

Ryan could barely contain himself anymore. He unzipped and ripped off his pants and stepped behind Kim, stripping off the scanty bottoms that barely covered anything on her anyway. He spread her legs as far as they would go and put his erect cock inside of her, and he could feel her tremble as her pussy enveloped him. He grabbed each asscheek and pulled himself in as deep as he could go, shoving over and over again, slow and deliberate at first, and then faster and faster, and Kim gobbled up the cake more and more furiously as he pounded her, her quiet whine rising to a moan, Ryan’s fingers digging into her ass, until--

“...Ryan?”

Ryan’s heart leapt out of his chest as he started and pulled out, dragging his cock along the edge of the desk, and he winced in pain. Kim started, too, and dropped the cake, letting it splatter (surprisingly compactly) on the floor. Ryan, in nothing but socks and a shirt, spun around and saw Rose standing pale-faced in the door of his office.

Hejust stood there for several long seconds. The tip of his cock burned but was otherwise unscathed. He didn’t say anything. Rose didn’t say anything. Kim hung over the front and back of the desk, readjusting a little but remaining silent, too.

The same lame words, the ones that had come to him in the kitchenette with Kim, came again to Ryan now. “What are you doing here?” He blinked. “How did you get in.”

“You gave me a key,” said Rose absently. She paused for a beat. “I thought you were dead.” She turned and walked back out the way she had come.
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Old 04-13-2018, 06:11 PM   #16
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Default Chapter 9 (Final Chapter)

“Ryan? Ryan, are you paying attention, man?”

Ryan blinked and tried to pull his mind back into focus. He was sitting in the main office at one of the legal weed businesses, where Marvin was trying to tell him something. Marvin looked worried, but Ryan’s mind kept wandering. It had been a week since Rose had walked in on him fucking Kim, and she hadn’t uttered a word to him since she had walked out of that room. By the time he got home that night Rose had packed her things and left. He was eventually able to figure out that she’d moved in with a cousin, but he was too ashamed and terrified to go talk to her. So far she didn’t seem to have talked to Marvin or Kim either, but he feared that wouldn’t last. And if Rose broke her silence, everything would come crashing down: his affair with Kim, his friendship (such as it was) with Marvin, and the small empire of obesity they were growing just a little bit larger every day.

“Listen to me, Ryan,” said Marvin, “this is really important. What’s going on with you?”

“It’s...it’s nothing. Just haven’t been sleeping.”

“Well get some sleep, because you’re going to need it. We got work to do. I’m finally seeing rumors about The Spa getting around town.”

Ryan frowned. “No one’s gonna believe that. It’ll sound like a crank theory.”

“You better believe they’ll believe it. Some of my contractors have heard it from folks they know. Some of our guests have been confronted around town, asked if they’re at the ‘fat camp’! This is getting out of control, and we gotta do something about it.”

Ryan’s heart started racing as this new stressor was laid on top of all his others. “This is why you didn’t want to do this in the first place…” he muttered. “Why did we ever do this?”

“No, too late for that shit,” said Marvin. “We’re in this thing, so we gotta spin this to my benefit.”

“You want to admit you’re running a fat camp?” Ryans eyes widened.

“No, no,” he said, “spin it. Spin the criticism.”

Something clicked for Ryan. “You’re right. I know just what to do.”

The next week was a whirlwind. Marvin reached out to a reporter at the local news station to complain that local racists were slandering him, and within a day he was on the local news, bringing these rumors to the whole city just so he could shoot them down. “There are some people in Southvale,” he said into the microphone, “who cannot handle the idea of a successful, independent, black-owned business in their town, so they come up with nonsense stories about me having a whole second, secret business to feed fat women. I mean, come on--how many stereotypes can you put on the table? I shouldn’t even have to say this, but apparently I do: these rumors are totally unfounded and are part of a smear campaign to deligitimize my business. And I will not let that happen.” There was a flurry of reaction: some businessmen assuming they were in Marvin’s crosshairs expressing outrage of his accusation, black civic groups rallying to Marvin’s aid, and the local chamber of commerce caught in the middle, trying to protect Marvin’s business reputation (a huge boon to Southvale, after all) and the sensibilities of the offended at the same time.

But the kicker came at the end of the week, when a proponent of the rumors also stepped onto the set of the local news to talk to one of their correspondents, Danyelle Biggs. And that proponent was none other than the anti-obesity contractor Ryan had soaked with Kim’s soda, a man named Brett Taggart. Kaplan tried to distance himself from Taggart, but the damage was done: now it looked like the Kaplan administration itself, the local champion in the fight against obesity, was claiming Marvin was secretly fattening up women throughout Southvale.

It wasn’t long before they were sitting in Marvin’s office again. This time Ryan was fully engaged with the problem, freaking out and rambling, in fact, but Marvin was cool and collected.

“I’m gonna run for mayor,” he said.

Ryan’s anxious babbling came to a halt. “What?!”

“We’re in it, now, Ryan. The truth is out, even if a lot of folks don’t know that yet. There are Kaplan folks who know what I’m up to. Only a matter of time before they know what you’re up to, too. I’ve thought about this a lot, Ryan, and we can’t go back. Only way around is through it. If Kaplan’s the problem, we have to get rid of Kaplan. He’s gotta go.”

Ryan just sat in silence, failing to process what Marvin was saying.

“Now listen,” he said, “I know you’re not gonna be ready to get on board right away. You’re doing work you care about, I know that’s important to you. But I think sooner or later you’re going to realize this mayor is not all he’s cracked up to be. These scandals are gonna run deeper than you think. I hate to break it to you, but I think all that anti-obesity horseshit was a sign of deeper problems. This motherfucker doesn’t care about helping people who don’t measure up to his standards--businessmen, fat folks, he’s apparently got a whole list. Who knows who else is on it. Sooner or later, you’re gonna figure all this out, and I’ll be ready for you to join my campaign. And we will remake this town. No more of this empty populist bullshit. No more fight against fat. All my businesses will thrive, more fat folks will move to this town, and Southvale will become the Midwestern capital of fat, food, and weed.”

“Ok, hang on,” said Ryan, exasperated, “even if you actually do this, Kaplan was elected less than two years ago. You’re going to start a campaign two years early?”

“I’m glad you asked,” said Marvin, grinning. “Here’s the thing: these scandal stories didn’t just break on their own. Word on the street is there’s money and organization behind this, a coordinated attack on the man, and pretty soon we’re going to see a recall campaign go public. Organized by the very people Kaplan betrayed.” He winked.

“How do you know this?” Ryan leaned forward in his chair, his hands shaking.

“Just a rumor,” Marvin shrugged. “But I’m optimistic.”

This was unusual. Ever since Marvin had approached Ryan in the winter, he’d treated him as an equal, as a partner. They both needed to be in on everything if they were going to pull off their fraud and keep Marvin’s businesses alive. Now he’d proposed an insane idea and become secretive, and Ryan wasn’t sure if all that innuendo meant that Marvin was teaming up with Republican donors, if Marvin himself was funding the recall operation, or what. But sure enough, five days later another Kaplan scandal surfaced (the city solicitor was harassing his female interns), and the next day the recall campaign went public. And day after that, Marvin announced his campaign for mayor. It was an unusual thing to do before the recall had even happened, but Marvin was that confident.

City hall was in chaos. Everyone in every department, including Ryan’s, was in full-on crisis mode. Between new PR demands and demolished morale, work ground to a halt, and Ryan couldn’t get any of his subordinates to send him anything he needed. After a few weeks, Ryan realized that whether he liked it or not, the Kaplan dream had come to an end. Amidst an abnormally balmy spell in the middle of October, he made sure he’d left no record of his misdeeds on Marvin’s behalf (he hadn’t), he handed in his resignation, and he joined Marvin’s campaign as a senior advisor.

Marvin was happy to have Ryan on board, but he didn’t really need him. Polls had shown that Kaplan’s popularity was tumbling and Marvin’s was soaring. As best as the O’Neill campaign could tell, Marvin’s popularity stemmed from a combination of anti-Kaplan backlash and the fact that he symbolized the downtrodden in the fairly diverse city of Southvale: a prosperous black businessman working in an industry that, not so long ago, had been criminalized and used to keep the boot of the law on the neck of poor black and brown folks. Marvin was their champion.

For a campaign office, Marvin had bought the top floor of a renovated old factory downtown and slowly expanded through each floor below as the campaign grew. To some extent, he’d drawn on the staff of his businesses, legal and illegal. Ana, for instance, had left The Spa to work as his personal assistant, and she was always running around the office stuffed into a too-tight blouse and skirt, looking about 15 pounds heavier than when Ryan had first met her. But the campaign couldn’t cripple the businesses by stealing their entire workforce, so most of the faces were fresh: dozens upon dozens of young men and women roaming the floors of this building, writing memos and editing campaign commercials and prepping canvassers to hit the streets. Many were volunteers from the community. A few were actually women who had stayed at The Spa, including Cora, who waddled around in far-too-tight pants and a sleeveless blouse, every inch of her body thoroughly chunky, a donut (or two) always in her hand. The energy was incredible. From the moment he showed up, Ryan went from profound skeptic to true believer. He knew that Marvin would win.

He never saw Kim at the office, though--presumably she couldn’t be bothered to exert the energy it would take to help out with the campaign. In fact, Ryan had only seen her once since the incident in his own office. More time than usual had passed between meetings, and when they finally got together in an obscure corner of the The Spa’s warehouse, it was for a quick fuck and a quick goodbye. Ryan didn’t know what was on Kim’s mind, but he couldn’t bear to think beyond his ignorance. Dealing emotionally with Rose was hard enough. He was happy to let his affair with Kim hang in limbo for now, while so much was up in the air.

One morning, he was sitting in a meeting room with Cora, reviewing the latest polling numbers before a meeting with Marvin. Cora was munching on her second breakfast sandwich, with a third waiting in a crumpled fast food bag to her left. She spoke through loud, smacking chews and left grease stains on some printouts as she handled them.

“We’re up in the Eighth Ward,” she said, “but we’ve been going up there since the beginning.”

“That’s good,” said Ryan, “but we should be higher.” He frowned. “How many fat people in the Eighth?”

“We don’t have ward-level BMI data, Ryan.”

“Well, we should.”

“Ryan, most fat people aren’t like us. They don’t want to be fat. You can’t run a pro-fat campaign and then count on all the fat people to vote for you.”

“Too bad.” He checked his watch. “Marvin’s ten minutes late. Shouldn’t he be in by now? He’s never late.”

“I don’t know,” said Cora, grabbing a bundle of fries like the claw in a claw machine and popping them all into her mouth. “He’ll be here.”

An intern, a young black woman with long braids, popped her head into the room with a grave look on her face. “Ryan...you better turn on the news. Channel 13.”

He did, and he felt like his chest had caved in. It was Rose.

“If Marvin O’Neill wants to beat Kaplan, he’s going to have to clean house, too,” she was telling Danyelle Biggs. Rose was wearing the same outfit she’d worn the day he’d tossed her soda in Brett Taggart’s face: fat legs stuffed into gray slacks that now seemed ready to burst at the seams, and a white blouse that now so poorly contained her belly that he could literally see her fat in the gaps between the buttons.

“And what do you mean by that?” asked Danyelle Biggs, leaning in.

“My ex, Ryan Sweet, is one of Marvin O’Neill’s senior advisors, but Ryan worked side-by-side with Brett Taggart. Plus, he cheated on me when he slept with Marvin’s wife. The campaign shouldn’t trust him. He hasn’t been honest with anyone.”

Ryan turned off the TV; he’d seen enough. Cora didn’t say anything for a minute and then gathered up her remaining breakfast sandwich and left the room. Marvin never showed up for the meeting.

* * *

Marvin stood at a podium outside the headquarters to his weed business, standing behind a podium and sweating ever so slightly in his dark blue suit beneath the unseasonably warm October sun. He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed lightly at his meticulously shaved scalp, looking out at the hundred or so people, along with a few reporters and local news cameras, gathered in the plaza before him. Putting the handkerchief away, he leaned into the microphone once again.

“But you shouldn’t just hear from me today,” he boomed, “you should hear from my wife, Kimberly, who was also directly touched by these hurtful allegations.”

He took several steps back, leaving ample room for Kim to approach the podium. Today she wore a single-piece, sleeveless white dress that stopped at her knees, making it almost impossible for her to move her massive legs. It was hard to say whether the dress had ever fit, but it certainly didn’t now. There were no smooth or flat surfaces: every square inch was distended by her tremendous double belly, her blooming love handles and bulging back fat. Her flabby arms spilled out on either side from the armholes, and her round neck, totally exposed thanks to hair pulled into a tight bun, now sported a truly impressive double chin. She stood at the podium for a moment, looking down and accentuating that double chin, her breath audible from the simple effort of stepping forward. She had easily gained twenty pounds and passed the 500-pound mark by now.

She looked up, eyes shining with confidence. “I’m so happy to see all of you here today. You may not think this is a happy day, but I do, because I know we are all strong enough to dispel the vicious accusations that have been leveled against my husband, and against me. I want to be clear: I have never been unfaithful to Marvin. This Ryan Sweet wasn’t a high-level advisor. He was a low-level volunteer I barely knew, a man clearly jealous of my husband’s success and cooperating with his so-called ex-girlfriend to bring us down. Ryan Sweet will not stop us. And Max Kaplan will not stop us. These fat camp rumors were simply a way to discredit my husband by attacking my body, by turning my body into an unfounded rumor, by treating my body like it is a sickness. But I am proud of myself and of my body. I am a very fat woman. I--”

She looked directly into the camera and said, “I am five hundred and six fucking pounds.”

Ryan, perched tensely on the edge of his sofa, grunted and came, and his cum flopped across the carpet in front of him. He fall back into the sofa behind him, wearing nothing but socks and a shirt. There were no light in the living room outside the TV screen. He was spent and empty. And he was hallucinating, or at least fantasizing. He knew that Kim had not looked at the camera and said she weighed “five hundred and six fucking pounds.” That was what he had wanted to hear, but in reality she had just continued to give her speech, distancing herself from Ryan and Rose, standing close to Marvin, continuing their ascent.

He hadn’t spoken to Marvin since Rose was on TV; he had simply sent Marvin a one-line resignation email and left. He knew there was no going back--with Marvin, with Rose, or with Kim.

He picked up his phone and dialed Rose for the first time in weeks, maybe months. While it rang, he just sat there, staring at Kim, watching her body jiggle at her slightest movement. She was elegant and poised, somehow still graceful in her roughly five-hundred-pound body. He had never wanted her more. He could already feel his boner returning.

Then, remarkably, Rose picked up. “Hello.” It wasn’t a question, barely a greeting.

Ryan felt eerily calm. “I just want to know one thing,” he said. “Why didn’t you ruin Marvin, too? Why didn’t you talk about our fraud and bring down Marvin’s whole business? Aren’t you mad at all of us?”

“Easy,” she said. “Because I can still go to The Spa. I can practically live there. I called Marvin, and our deal still stands--as long as I don’t out him, he won’t kick me out. And you can’t do anything about it because, at this point, no one will believe you.”

She was right. He was going to watch Kaplan get recalled, watch Marvin win this race, and see him turn Southvale into a feedist paradise. And he would just be watching from the sidelines, forever locked out of the kingdom that could not have been built without him.

And then Rose hung up.
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