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Old 11-19-2016, 01:03 PM   #1
coyote wild
You'll love me, I swear.
 
Join Date: Sep 2005
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Default The Fall of Madame Bigger (~SSBBW, ~SSBHM, ~XWG, ~FFA, ~GAS)

(Author's note: Here it is. The final installment of the "Madame Bigger Trilogy." This has been a long time coming and I'm so happy to finally get it out there. Thanks to everyone that asked for it and showed an interest in having it continue. It goes into some weird territory (maybe not, if you're a fan) but I do hope you enjoy and thanks again for sticking around. But most importantly, thanks for your patience.

Without further ado, I present to you the final installment in the "Madame Bigger Trilogy."

Enjoy.)




PROLOGUE


Her heels clacked against the hardwood gymnasium floor as she passed a small sign with magnetic letters spelling out: “Overeaters Anonymous - Noon to 3p.”


Her hips swayed past rows of chairs, peppered with attendees of varying size. Most were between chubby and fat, while a few were truly obese.


She approached the stage and ascended the steps. The podium almost seemed to come to her and her lips spread into a smile behind the microphone.


“Hello, Children of Abundance,” her voice flowed over the crowd. “I am glad you are all ready to connect with your truest self. Before we can know our soul, we have to nourish it. And in this way, it will come to us instead of being frightened off by the extravagance of our zeal.”


That’s when she had them. She saw the flash in their eyes; the sign that their inner selves had awoken at the promise of shining forth. No longer hiding. Presenting themselves to the world.


That’s how she baited them.


She motioned to the back of the room, and as if she had power over reality itself, the double doors swung open. Through each entryway marched a trail of waitresses and waiters; modelesque in appearance, pushing serving carts of meals. Burgers, pizzas, bowls of pastas, even grilled and fried veggies. Towards the end of each convoy were the pastries and cakes. Donuts, eclairs, balls of chocolate coated in hardened candy shells with dustings of powdered sugar.


Eyes shifted, waiting for someone else to take the lead. Chairs creaked as each body squirmed uncomfortably, fighting the urge to approach any of the serving carts.


The woman at the podium smiled, her arms open, gesturing to the feast. She could say no more. The fatties must decide on their own.


Maura Pounder’s tongue slid over her plump lips as she eyed an entire roasted turkey. She wiggled her fingers as she fantasized about ripping a drumstick from the dome-shaped bird and sinking her teeth into its savory, juicy flesh, ripping it from the bone. She pursed her lips and shimmied in her seat a little before rising to her feet.


And that was that. The other attendees followed suit.


It was mesmerizing to see the sea of bulbous flesh shifting and rising like a suddenly turbulent ocean.


The last to rise was a man of at least 500 pounds that appeared like he may have graced magazine covers once upon a smaller size. He bounded towards the pizza cart, huffing with every step.


The woman at the podium lowered her arms and kept her gaze on her subjects as she descended the stairs of the stage. She made her way around the edge of the crowd which was now elbow deep in the most rich and filling foods imaginable, and sauntered towards the exit.


On her way out, she passed by a waitress standing by the door.


“No one leaves till it’s gone, understand?” the woman ordered.


“Yes, Madame,” the waitress replied, closing the door behind her boss.



THE FALL OF MADAME BIGGER
by Coyote Wild


Four. Hundred. Pounds.


That’s how fat I had become. The dreaded four-zero-zero. In following Kate - I mean, The Madame’s exploits, I saw patterns. And of those patterns, one of the most consistent seemed to be that 400 pounds was the barrier. The point of no return.


Little known fact, but some of her victims actually lost weight and escaped her influence. But never anyone under 400 pounds. Once they hit 400 pounds...they were hers.


So I guess I’m hers. Or rather: theirs.


See, it turns out that Kate had accumulated quite a following. The Madame’s changing appearance in the various reports, I had always attributed to her adjusting her style and look to appeal to her targets. But the truth is: there were many Madames.


Kate assures me, however, that she’s the original. And I have no reason to doubt her. The others all follow her lead and obey her commands without question. In fact, since falling to her devices, I had seen one of her slightly thicker followers balloon by at least fifty pounds. She had been caring for me during the day while Kate did whatever it was she did. But when a much thinner lady took her place, they would only tell me my former carer had been reassigned.


I was kept in bed most of the day, moved to the couch in the evening, then returned to the bed late at night. The only exercise I got was walking between the couch and bed with restroom stops in between. And that’s exactly what they wanted. I knew that if this kept up, I would lose my mobility relatively early in the fattening process.


To be honest, it wasn’t difficult to succumb. I had shelter, food, a bed, entertainment. I was set for life. All I had to do was surrender my body to her and let her shape it as she wished. And dare I say, she was doing a marvelous job.


Complete lethargy had left me soft and rounded at all edges. I was a marshmallow, a cloud, a comfy bed at the end of a long day.


My ass was nearly planetary in scope. Two celestial bodies crashing into each other, fighting for dominance whenever I walked. My belly barely kissed the top of my thighs, even while standing. Eventually, it would smother them. I sat in bed, kneading my belly as I considered this. As if asking it to show kindness in its unrestricted expansion.


It gurgled in mockery, groaning in annoyance. It twisted my insides to remind me who’s boss and I began to whimper. The pressure bubbled against my lungs and pelvis and struggled to find an escape. I slowly pushed into my lower belly and released a rumbling expulsion of gas into the room.


I panted, exhausted from the exertion. I had tired myself out by farting. This was my life now.


This was the downside of my intense diet: A constant flow of food entering my stomach and before my body knows what to do with it all, the next countless-calorie-course is brought to me. The only way my body can make room is to dispel the gas such a dietary regimen produces.


There was a quick rap at the door before my evening caretaker, Laurie, entered carrying a tray of doughnuts stacked upon each other in a pyramid and balancing a thick, off-white shake. Must’ve been 5:00pm.


“How are we doing today?” she asked, cheerfully, with a sweet, British accent.


“Great,” I replied, sarcastically, grabbing and jiggling my belly for emphasis.


Laurie sniffed the air, then fanned her nose. “Oh my! Someone’s been eating well!” she said, proud. “Smells like you’re ready for more.”


She set the tray down beside my bed and plucked a doughnut off the top of the pyramid. She moved it to my lips and I didn’t hesitate to bite into it. I’d probably weigh a lot less by this point if I didn’t have a history of trying to resist. There were consequences for resisting, and I had suffered them all. Besides, the food was delicious. Now that it was out of my control, I wasn’t so hesitant to embrace it. I only played coy so the Madame’s waitresses (as I had taken to calling them) wouldn’t know just how much fatter they could make me if they wanted.


While chewing the first bite of the first doughnut, another fart tumbled from my ass cheeks, reverberating against the bed and mixing with the air of the room.


“Good girl!” Laurie shouted, knowing that I had just made more room for the remaining doughnuts. “Let’s get these down so we can start moving you to the couch!”


A few minutes later, I was slurping puddles from an empty cup through an empty straw, finally releasing the tip with my lips. All the doughnuts were inside of me, floating in nearly a liter of shake. I whimpered from the fullness. It was a feeling I associated with getting fatter. I had come to enjoy the pain. It meant my body was changing, adding new acres and avenues to explore. I was growing to occupy more space. I was becoming unignorable.


“Are you ready?” Laurie asked.


My eyes still closed, I nodded and held out my hands. We locked fingers and I began to shimmy to the edge. I was able to let go once I was in a seated position on the side of the bed. I took a moment to catch my breath and heaved myself to my feet. I began the arduous journey from the bed to the couch and Laurie followed behind.


I entered the hall and saw a couple of waitresses hustling about. They stopped when they saw me and pressed their backs to the walls, as if we were on a ship and the captain had just come on deck. I leaned a little sideways to squeeze past them and felt my entire fattened form press hard and brush against both ladies. I nearly popped out from between them and continued my waddle down the hall.


Some days, I took this opportunity for a bathroom break to clear my stomach and prepare for the onslaught of food in store for the remainder of the evening, but with Laurie and the two waitresses watching me, I was too embarrassed and kept walking on by. There was a growl in the pit of my belly, as if it was telling me how much I’d later regret not taking the opportunity. But it didn’t have to remind me. My brow was stinging with sweat because I already knew.


I positioned my bulk in front of the couch and lowered myself like a helicopter to a landing pad. The weight of my ass pushed deep into the cushions and I leaned back, settling into the groove my growing body had carved out.


There were already plates of calzones and sliders on the coffee table, but waitresses were adding more dishes to the fray while I rubbed my belly nervously. Truth be told, I was excited for the evening meal, but I knew exactly what it meant. It meant that I’d be going to sleep even fatter than I was when I woke up that morning. I was conflicted. I was excited. I was terrified.


I was hungry.


With my thumb and index finger, I pinched a fried mozzarella ball from a mountain of fried mozzarella balls and popped it into my mouth, moaning as my teeth tore it apart, my tongue dancing with ribbons of melted cheese. I had popped another two into my mouth before I realized I was chewing three of them and was about to toss in a fourth.


The waitresses continued to remove and replace dishes with little interaction. I assumed these were newer recruits, instructed not to communicate or make eye contact with the boss’s prized hog. Just keep her fed.


It helped not to think of them as equals. Whether I considered them above or below me, I honestly couldn’t tell you. However you looked at it, being on separate levels made it easier for me to vent the pressure in my belly when I needed to. If they were above me, it was expected. If they were below me, then it wouldn’t matter anyway.


Though I couldn’t help but blush when I noticed one or both of them grimace from the smell when approaching me. It’s a kneejerk reaction and I can’t truly blame them for such a response. By the time they’ll have proven themselves to The Madame, they’ll be completely accustomed to the aroma of fatties.


Speaking of The Madame, not long into the evening meal is when Kate usually comes home. And this night was no exception.


I heard the door open, the security system giving off a couple of beeps, and the steady, deliberate steps of an approaching predator.


“Mmmm,” she moaned. “Smells like a pig in here.”


I swallowed my current bite and watched her enter with anger in my eyes.


“Aww don’t look at me like that, kiddo. You wouldn’t be as fat as you are if, on some level, you didn’t want it.”


I returned my gaze to the meal before me and continued to eat.


“Why even take the case?” she prodded. “You had been waiting for someone like me to come along. Someone to remove personal responsibility from the equation. Someone to take away your choice in gaining weight. Someone you can point to and say: ‘She. She is the reason I am so fat.’ Admit it. You’ve been after me for a few years, but you’ve been looking for me your whole life.”


I once again made eye contact with her and leaned forward. Without breaking our stare, I farted loud and deeply.


Kate smiled her devious smile. “Good girl,” she said, barely above a whisper.


“Ladies!” Kate announced and three waitresses approached. Two went to either end of the coffee table and lifted it to set it aside. The third dropped to the floor in front of me and got on her back. I watched her slide beneath me and the couch with some sort of device in her hand.


“What are you doing?” I asked nervously, trying to look around the clothes-stretching rolling hills of my enormous body then looking up at Kate, the mastermind of it all.


“We’re going on a little ride!” Kate explained.


I then felt something rising through the couch cushion and barely tickling my ass cheeks. The waitress beneath the couch was cutting into the seat of my pants and underwear! What was she-oh!


I felt something thick and cylindrical sliding into my ass and breaching my anus. I gritted my teeth and squeezed my fists. The device stopped pushing deeper into me and I felt something disconnect below me.


The waitress had pulled out whatever she had been using to push the plug deep into my ass. But something was definitely left behind.


“What did you do to me?” I asked, panting from the discomfort.


“Not to fret, dear. All in due time,” The Madame consoled me. “Get her up, and get her to the bus,” The Madame commanded. I was seized by my pillowy upper arms and cushioned elbows and heaved to my feet. They tugged on me and we were waddling out of the house.


“Wait,” I began, barely putting up a fight but realizing I hadn't been out in the world in many months and many weigh-ins ago. I was wearing stretchy leggings and a t-shirt under a zipped-up hoodie, which I guess passed as acceptable in public. But was the world even built for someone my size? I mean, it used to be. But now I’m not so sure.


We exited out the double doors, into the blinding light of day. Awaiting us outside, in the oversized, roundabout driveway, was a bus. The door was open and I was guided to board it. I needed help taking the few steps into the cab. But to be fair, it was an enormous bus, designed for long-distance travel. Comfy seats, wide aisles...what was this?


In most of the seats were men and women, all ethnicities, all enormous, groaning and rubbing their bellies. They squirmed in their seats, as much as their bulk would allow.


It was the first time in a long time I felt thinner than anyone. These people looked barely mobile. A collection of fatties. It occurred to me that I recognized each of them. Cases I had been assigned. Missing persons. Breadcrumbs left behind by The Madame. I had seen their progress through Kate's records. I couldn't believe they had gotten as fat as they were. They were no longer breadcrumbs, but entire loaves.


I was ushered to the back of the bus, getting my own set of seats to spread out on, like the others. Squeezing against the seat in front of me, I slid into position and lowered my ass into the chair. My entire body wobbled and I began taking deep breaths to calm myself after the journey. I started to fan myself when I realized the plug in my butt was preventing me from releasing any gas to dispel any pressure. I tried to push, flexing what was left of my stomach muscles, hoping the force was enough to eject the plug, but it wouldn’t budge.


The gas roared within me, angered it couldn’t escape. I suddenly realized why the other fatties on the bus were writhing in discomfort...they’d all been plugged up too. A cruel thing to do to a growing pig. Without the relief, there’s no telling what could happen.


I barely noticed as Kate leapt onto the bus and the door hissed shut behind her. The engine hummed and we began to roll forward. Kate moved down the aisle, personally checking on each fatty, whispering encouragement, patting shoulders and bellies. Eventually, her attention fell upon me, and her bright, friendly smile seamlessly morphed into something more sinister.


“Where are you taking us?” I asked, breathing heavily.


The Madame rolled her eyes in ponderance and shrugged. “Yeah, what the hell. Now’s as good a time as any,” seeming to signal she was ready to reveal her plan.


She placed her hands on the high-backed seats for balance and positioned herself over me. She stood, straddling my knees. She looked down on me happily, confident in her dominance over someone several times larger than herself. Especially someone she had personally made so large.


She looked at me as if analyzing a work of art in progress. I could feel her mentally adding fat to various parts of my body.


“As you clearly know,” she began, poking my belly, pressing it deeper than I think even she meant to. “The shakes I provide to you and all of my piggies is based on a compound derived from the milk of mother seals that live in arctic environments. In order to survive the merciless cold, seal pups must put on an extraordinary amount of fat in a very brief window of time.”


A gurgle from my belly interrupted her and her eyebrows momentarily jumped in excitement. She continued.


“Well I’ve been tweaking the formula all these years, perfecting it, making it so calorie-dense that you could literally see someone swell with fat while they drank it. However, there have been some...setbacks.”


The gas demanded a way out, beating its fists against my insides, growling to be set free.


“The rapid processing of so many calories can create pockets of air which then escape from your magnificent rear.” Kate mimed a round ass filling her hands. “Well, it turns out, the gas produced from digesting the milk is itself, fattening somehow. Being exposed to it for extended periods can lead to exceptional increases in weight. You’ve seen this yourself with some of my maidens that forget to take precautions.” She rattled a bottle of pills in the air, which I took to be the “precaution” she spoke of. She popped a couple of pills while my mind connected all the pieces.


My mind suddenly flashed to the waitress I last saw when she was a little over 200 pounds.


“Yes, poor Elsie,” The Madame said, shaking her head in regret, as if she could see into my thoughts. “She’s a little bigger than you, now.”


My eyes went wide. The Madame changed her tone and cracked a smile.


“Oh, she’s fine, don’t be so dramatic. We’ve set her up in her own room somewhere. She has plenty of room to grow. Of which, she’ll be doing plenty.”


“What do you mean?” I breathed.


“Well it turns out, being exposed to the gas can be even more fattening than drinking the shake itself. So we have a little experiment we’re going to try!” The Madame explained, clapping her hands once then locking them together before rubbing them furiously, as if preparing to tackle a monumental task.


I looked out the window and saw that we were pulling into the parking lot of a recently-opened, high-end buffet: The Grand Cornucopia.


While us pigs waited on the bus, desperately wishing for relief, groaning in anticipation at the meals to come, some of the waitresses got off the bus to prepare extra wide wheelchairs.


“Dinner awaits!” Kate sang as she marched down the bus, the happiest I had ever seen her.



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Old 11-19-2016, 01:07 PM   #2
coyote wild
You'll love me, I swear.
 
Join Date: Sep 2005
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We made quite an entrance. The double doors burst open the way the seams of our clothes later would. A few of us were allowed to walk in, I guess as a kindness since our walking days were obviously nearing an end, but some of the others had to be pushed in on the heavy duty wheelchairs..


The waitresses ushered us to different tables. Corrine guided me to a table by a fit couple that looked to be about my age. They were already watching us from our grand entrance before. I was pushed into my chair, which gave a yelp of protest when my body slammed into it.


“Wait here,” Corrine instructed before disappearing into the crowd.


I looked around, searching for the others. Ryan was hunched over his plate, tearing through a fried chicken breast. An entire pizza was being placed next to Naomi as she nervously rubbed her belly. Bev was being fed by a waitress, her eyes on the spoon as it scooped up more gravy-and-butter-drenched mashed potatoes.


Why were they doing this? Why wouldn't they give us relief so we have enough room to accept all of their offerings? I wriggled in my seat, trying to loosen the cork inside me. The ghost of past meals roared angrily within me, gaining in strength.


Then came The Madame. Her every step deliberate, her smile piercing, her eyes locked.


I tried to give her the stare of hatred I had developed over my time as her pig, but could only look at her pleadingly. I wanted her to reach under me and just pluck it out. Just let me exhale.


But she didn't. She was flanked by two waitresses, each balancing trays of delectable dishes. Sandwiches, pastas, chicken, rice. They were all placed before me on the table as I watched in horror.


The Madame leaned closer and whispered in my ear: “Eat up.”


I whimpered back: “I can't.”


The Madame clicked her tongue in disappointment. “I guess you need to make room, huh? Let go of all that growing, intense pressure just building within. But don't you realize what will happen if you do?”


She took a step back and spread her arms. “Everyone in this establishment will become fatter than you.”


I moaned. Her plan, and my role in it, finally revealed.


“One whiff, that's all it takes. And with so much food around…” she began to mimic herself inflating, puffing out her cheeks and using her arms to pretend to swell. “I'd be surprised if any of them will be able to walk out of here. No, these walls will definitely have to be knocked out. All because of your fat ass.”


I gulped as she placed her fists on the table, knuckles down, and leaned closer to my face.


“Trisha?” she asked without breaking our gaze.


“Yes, Madame?” a waitress answered.


“Take it out.”


“No, please-” I began to protest just as I felt a bubbling surge rise within me.


“But you're not eating! You obviously need to make a little more room in that glorious belly of yours,” The Madame said, feigning concern.


In an effort to change her mind, I grabbed a burger and took the biggest bite I could. With my mouth full, my pleas were muffled.


Trisha walked behind me. While the Madame and I kept our eyes on each other, one in dominance, one in despair, I felt Trisha kneel behind me. I next felt cool metal kiss my ass cheeks and continue to slide upward. The device twisted and tugged at the plug in my ass. It started to be pulled downward and with a POP, it was out.


I held on. I tightened what muscles I had left and clenched my butt. It felt like a million little marbles tumbling through my middle, toward my rear. They gathered at the exit, piling on top of each other, adding weight and pushing against the exit. The pressure rose like a spreading warmth and began to impose on my lungs, shortening my breath.


My forehead was sweating, my lip trembling.


“It's okay to give in. Soon, they'll all be just like you.”


And with that, I closed my eyes and let go.


The force of wind that exploded from my butt was like nothing I had ever felt. My ass roared, a protracted groan of relief. I slowly leaned forward as it flowed out of me, squeezing every last bit I could into the atmosphere. The relief I felt was borderline orgasmic, as the storm in my belly was replaced with butterflies.


I heard silverware clatter against dishes; the nearby customers losing their appetites. No worries. They'd get them back soon enough.


I began to realize I was hearing distant farts from all corners of the restaurant. Ryan had a smug, tired smile on his face. Naomi had paused her chewing to release some pent up gas. Bev leaned slightly, a doughnut was brought to her lips as more gas escaped her.


The entire place had erupted in angry groans, from both annoyed customers and from fat asses too long denied relief. Despite the vast array of foods, everything smelled of artisanal cheeses and produce.


I farted again, the couple behind me gasping in shock. “Are you serious?” the lady asked rhetorically. I heard the man take up his silverware and resume eating. “How can you eat when we're sitting in this hog's atmosphere?” the girlfriend began, but in mid-sentence, started to eat as well. “This is so good,” she said, her words muffled by food.


I sighed, finally hungry again, and took another large bite from my burger. I had become so accustomed to being full and stuffed, I had nearly forgotten the sensation of an empty stomach. I felt incomplete; hollow. I needed to eat; to fill my belly with nourishment. I needed to make myself whole again.


“Good girl,” The Madame said, grinning. She turned away from me and surveyed the restaurant. I looked around as well.


All the diners in the restaurant appeared as though they left the house wearing clothes two sizes too small. Buttons were popping, seams were splitting, mouths were chewing. Patrons were looming over their tables, minimizing the distance between plates and mouths. The dominant sounds were clothes ripping, chairs creaking, groans, moans, slurps, squishes, and bursts of gas from swelling behinds.


The only slender people left in the establishment were the Madame and her waitresses. Everyone else was ballooning by the minute. There was a loud crack, followed by a ground-trembling thud. The dishes rattled from the impact and a round of gasps revealed where it happened. My gaze tracked the commotion to see a young, enormous woman writhing on the ground. Surely, upon entering, I would have noticed someone of that size. She must have been much smaller mere moments ago.


“My crowning achievement,” The Madame reflected, looking upon all of her subjects, both veterans and newbies alike. “And this is only the beginning.”


I returned my gaze back to my current situation in time to see two waitresses approach Kate from behind. They each grabbed an arm and held her firm.


“What is this? Let go!” The Madame ordered. The waitresses didn’t comply.


I continued to eat while watching these events unfold. Dinner and a show.


“You’ve done it, Madame,” one of the waitresses said, calmly and almost monotone.


“Look upon your works,” the other waitress said as they brought her to me. I was halfway through my second burger, forearms resting on my breasts, taking more bites before I swallowed the ones before. “Poor Ophelia.”


“She was so thin before you entered her life. A promising career as a private investigator. A body most women would kill to have. And look what you’ve turned her into,” the first waitress continued.


I ate, squeezing the last bite of my second burger into my already full mouth. My jaws barely had room to maneuver. But through slow, deliberate chews, I was able to swallow what must have been the equivalent of a whole burger. Another fart rumbled from beneath me, sounding more like a yawn than a roar. My belly was no longer angry...it was content.


“Claire. Yvonne. Unhand me now and I’ll let you keep your mobility. You each will look so lovely at 500 pounds,” The Madame tried to bargain.


“You ruined our brother’s life,” Claire said. “He was a personal trainer. His entire career revolved around his flawless physique.”


“He told us about the girl he had been seeing. An exquisite chef with an appreciation for fuller forms,” Yvonne explained. “He told us he was nervous about staying in shape. But he was falling for her. We thought he was joking when he said he was worried for his body. And then...nothing.”


“For six months,” Claire picked up the story. “We couldn’t find him for six months. So we got in touch with Ophelia here.” They all looked at me. I had been watching them, but I felt the heat in my cheeks and diverted my gaze as I bit into a heaping mound of mac & cheese. “She helped us track him down.”


It suddenly clicked. I now remembered Claire and Yvonne. Yvonne had been the one to come to my office and present me the case. Another file for the pile, I thought at the time. Another one of The Madame’s piglets. I had warned her that even if we found their brother, it was very unlikely he would look as they remembered him. I explained his potential fate to Yvonne and I could see the anger ignite behind her eyes. But she held it together and left my office cordially. I never saw her again but the last time we spoke was over the phone when I told her the address of their brother’s whereabouts.


“And when we found him at some random apartment,” Yvonne continued, “He couldn’t leave the bed. Our athletic little brother, too fat to stand. Too fat to even squeeze through the bedroom’s doorway.”


“And so incredibly gassy. He lives with our mom now. She, herself, has gained over a hundred pounds, just being around him and having access to the amount of food he requires.”


“The doctors tell us his metabolism is shot and he’ll never lose weight again. His only hope is to remain active enough that he doesn’t gain any.”


“Which we all know is impossible, though no one will admit it,” Claire said, solemnly.


The Madame struggled to free herself from her former servants’ grasp. “You should thank me! I set your brother free! No longer is he a victim of society’s views of how a man should look! He’s free to be as beautiful as he wants to be!”


“You mean as you want him to be!” Claire accused. “You molded him to your liking and took away his choice in the matter. He loves you. You knew he’d do anything for you. So you convinced him to grow.”


“And grow. And grow. And grow,” Yvonne emphasized.


“All these years, you’ve been playing with fire, Madame,” Claire told her, barely whispering. “And you know what happens when you play with fire, don’t you?”


“You get burned,” Yvonne answered.


Both waitresses pulled The Madame around the table and behind me. I could only twist in my seat so far and they left my sight while I ate, but I could still sense them behind me.


The Madame was forced to her knees. “Oh please, no,” she pleaded, staring at the way my humongous ass and back fat filled and bulged around the confines of the seat. I was a mountain of creamy mashed potatoes squeezed into a coffee cup. “Don’t do this!”


“This was always going to happen, Madame. This is the end of the path you started on,” Claire calmly explained.


“But don’t worry. We’re going to set you up in a nice facility where they’ll take care of everything you need,” Yvonne faux comforted.


I could hear them dragging her closer and feel the struggle right behind me and then, under my chair. Before sitting down, I had noticed a hole in in the seat of my seat, that I assumed was specially made for pulling out the buttplug. But once I was allowed to relieve the pressure in my ass, I realized the hole was a sort of exhaust port. And it dawned on me what they were doing.


So my fatness was contagious through my farts, and these waitresses were placing The Madame in the direct path of my gas…they were going to fatten up Madame Bigger.


My arms took over and began shoveling in food faster and faster. I barely chewed, just swallowing what I could, as fast as I could. The pressure was building again. The waitresses held her under me as I felt her squirm. I could only imagine the view: gray fabric stretched over the roundest, fattest ass anyone had ever seen. A slight indentation marking the cleavage separating my cheeks. I could feel them jiggle slightly as the gas rumbled within. The groaning that was barely audible to me must have been deafening to the Madame.


Finally, I couldn’t hold it anymore and my ass exploded with a powerful blast of wind that flowed over Madame Bigger.


She coughed and groaned and growled angrily.


I farted again, this one unexpected, as it followed the path of the first one, loudly announcing itself, roaring at the Madame, scolding her and ridiculing her and giving her a taste of her future.


A final, lazy yawn of gas slipped out as they pulled her from beneath me. I could hear her crying. They brought her back around the table so they could address me.


“Thank you, Ophelia. Thank you for finding our brother and for helping us exact revenge on the woman that ruined him,” Yvonne told me, smiling.


“We’re sorry this happened to you,” Claire began, motioning to my bulbous, fat form. “We had a longer con planned for getting her back, but once you fell under her influence, we had to seize the opportunity. Some of her victims are far too loyal to trust.”


“Happy to help,” I said through a mouthful of pasta. I swallowed before asking: “What’s going to happen to her now?” I looked at her, knowing what kind of unseen changes were occurring within her body.


She was eyeing my meal, licking her lips to lubricate them. She jerked forward, but the waitresses held firm. She moaned a moan I knew all too well: the hunger had taken her.


“As we mentioned, we have found a facility that we believe will be perfect for her,” Yvonne told me.


“Maybe you’ve heard of it: Bellevue Tower?” Claire asked.


I hadn’t heard of it, to be honest. I shook my head to indicate that to them.


“The residents there come for one reason: to get fat. Around-the-clock care ensures a steady diet of the most fattening food imaginable. Even the salads are over 800 calories,” Yvonne added.


“And for every hundred pounds you gain, you get moved up a floor,” Claire explained. “We plan on getting her to the tippy-top,” she said into the ear of The Madame, who then snapped out of her hunger-induced hypnosis long enough to register her fate.


“No, not Bellevue,” she pleaded. “No, I can’t. I’ll get so fat!”


“That’s the plan, Jiggly Jan,” Yvonne sang, poking her in her already bloated belly.


“What about everyone here?” I asked, worried for the patrons. I struggled to look over my horizon of a shoulder, but was able to turn around just enough to see the couple that had been seated behind me this entire time. One of the Madame’s waitresses was now standing by their table and they were both massive. The clothes they had arrived in were now tatters hanging over their fattened forms. There were regular bursts of farts, but I couldn’t tell whom each one belonged to. Just a nebulous, invisible cloud of sounds and smells spreading from their table, mingling with my own atmosphere.


“The other waitresses have their orders. They’ll be taken care of. Our only concern was bringing down The Madame,” Claire said, squeezing Kate’s arm tighter. “She’s feeling softer already.”


“Her organization will crumble without her,” Yvonne elaborated. “Don’t you worry.”


“Until then,” Claire began. “Say goodbye, piggy,” she told The Madame.


Kate suddenly smiled for the first time since the mutiny and her eyes pierced mine. I nearly choked on the mush of mixed foods I was currently trying to swallow.


“Goodbye, Piggy,” Madame Bigger said, a sinister tone permeating her words.


And with that, she was taken away. I, along with everyone else seated, continued to eat. I watched Claire and Yvonne drag The Madame through the restaurant, passing by her latest creations. I couldn’t tell if The Madame was eyeing her works of art, or the food they were devouring, but she wasn’t going easily.


Soon, she was out the door, and I was left with my own personal banquet, attended to by the waitresses still believing they had orders to follow.


I was no longer concerned for the other patrons and their futures. My primary concern now, was if I’d be able to walk out of here or if a wall would have to be knocked down for me.




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Old 11-19-2016, 01:09 PM   #3
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EPILOGUE

Claire and Yvonne pushed Madame Bigger along in a wheelchair too wide for her now chubby frame. She was in yoga pants and a tight shirt, her new, soft belly peeking out from underneath.


They walked across the marble floor, approaching the front desk, glancing at the plethora of feeders and feedees peppering the ornate lobby, mountains of gold-wrapped chocolate balls being deconstructed to feed the waiting guests.


The three women reached the desk, and a lady named Holly greeted them.


“Welcome to Bellevue! How may I assist you?”


“We would like to get our friend here set up with a room,” Yvonne answered, smiling.


“Absolutely!” Holly sang, typing into her computer. “Name?”


“Kate,” Yvonne said.


“Current weight, please?”


“196 pounds, as of this morning,” Claire replied.


“And goal weight?”


“Top floor,” Yvonne answered.


Holly stopped typing and dropped her smile. “Top floor?”


“Top floor,” said Claire.


Holly paused for a moment and went back to typing. “You do understand that to attain a room on the top floor, your guest here will have to eventually weigh in at half-a-ton.”


Claire and Yvonne shared a glance before simultaneously answering: “We do.”


The Madame was too busy watching an obese woman being fed by a chubby man. Oh, how she wished to feed them both and leave them squirming on the couch, begging for more, filling the room with their flatulence. But it was not to be.


Now she was the one that would be filling rooms with her flatulence. A perpetual atmosphere of gas, produced by her diet as it was processed by her belly and ushered out her ass.


Just then, a quaint but audible fart squeezed from her butt.


Holly, Claire, and Yvonne giggled at the sound. The Madame blushed.


“Aww, don’t worry, that’s actually quite common here,” Holly explained, condescendingly. “In fact, the longer you stay, the louder, deeper, and more frequent they’ll become.”


Holly presented some paperwork that was signed by all parties before preparing the materials. “Now if you’ll follow me, we’ll pay a visit to Kate’s first room.”


Claire and Yvonne pushed The Madame in her chair as they followed Holly down the hall.


Bellevue had just acquired a prize like no other: The Infamous Madame Bigger.



SIX MONTHS LATER….



Somewhere on the 4th floor, the maid by Kate’s bed gathered the empty dishes and placed them back on the food cart.


“You did so good today!” The maid said as she organized the plates.


She rubbed Madame Bigger’s massive sea of a belly, sending waves across its surface. A low, rumbling fart rolled out from beneath her, muffled by her bulk.


The maid gasped and smiled proudly even while she fanned her nose. “Good girl!” she exclaimed. “You’ll be up top in no time! I’ll be back in a couple of hours for the second round of dinner.”


The Madame groaned.


“Until then, there are snacks in the kitchenette. Don’t hesitate to dig in if you can’t wait! Ciao for now!” the maid said, and with that, she was pulling the barren dinner cart out the door.


Madame Bigger rubbed her belly in anguish. Is this what she had done to so many countless men and women? Is this the sensation she had forced upon them? She whimpered, her mind conflicted. Here she was, painfully full, the energy expended in digesting her monumental meal leaving her breathless and panting as if she had just run a marathon.


Another bassy fart relieved some of the pressure and the pain was replaced with a relaxing calm in the pit of her belly.


Then...she heard it. The high-pitched giggle of unwanted visitors. Sure, she was in a place built specifically for fattening guests, but these...things...were the true reason she had made it to the 4th floor in only a few months.


Another earth-trembling fart was released from beneath her, causing the creatures to giggle even more. She thought them to be a recurring nightmare, her mind concocting fantastic reasons for her incredible expansion. But she was almost certain she was wide awake now, and here they were.


“Who’s there?” Madame Bigger shouted into the empty room, sure she had become delirious in her time at Bellevue.


“Don’t you know?” came back a voice. “It’s your biggest fan club!” More giggling.


The Madame began to sweat as the familiar crowd of little gray blobs emerged from the shadows.


“Please,” Madame Bigger began, terrified of the evening to come.


“Aww don’t be like that! We only want to see you fat!” one of the creatures sang.


“Far too long you’ve fattened others, manipulated all your slender lovers!” another added.


“We’re the Munchies and it’s time to pay! Before we’re through, who knows how much you’ll weigh!”


“You’ll plead and beg and say, ‘No more!’ But we’re determined to get you to the Top Floor.”


“So relax, Madame Bigger, don’t be shy! We’re here to make you extra wide.”


The Munchies erupted in glorious laughter as The Madame cowered, too full from her previous meal to get up from her bed. She wobbled and rocked in an effort to get away, but The Munchies held her down while others emptied her fridge and cupboards.


“Don’t go anywhere, stay in your seat! We’re here to make sure you eat and eat!”


As her feast began, the food struggling for space within her fighting the food already there, she relinquished. This was the moment she knew she had lost. Claire and Yvonne were right: this was the only path for her. It always had been. She just didn’t want to accept it.


The fight in her melted away and she resigned herself to her fate.


Madame Bigger, also known as Kate, was destined to reach the pinnacle of weight.




THE END




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Old 12-05-2016, 03:39 AM   #4
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Great ending - love the cameo by the Munchies, so cute! Another fantastic piece of writing sir, thank you!

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Old 12-05-2016, 05:22 PM   #5
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Thank YOU, Brenda! I was secretly hoping you'd read it and like it! Very glad you did both. Hahah

So glad it's done though. Excited to move on to new projects I've been cooking up!
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