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|08-04-2006, 06:08 PM||#1|
Join Date: Apr 2006
Fringe Benefits - by Elizabeth Browning (~BHM,Feeding, ~XWG )
~BHM, Feeding, ~XWG - Some guys will do anything to make the team
By: Elizabeth Browning
The coach called me into his office. “Listen, Mark,” he began. “I may have to cut you from the team.”
“Why Coach? I’ve really been improving and you seemed to have been happy with me,” I replied. “What’s changed?”
“I’d like you to play fullback, but you don’t have enough meat on your bones,” he answered.
Maybe last season that would have been true. I was 180 pounds at 6’2. I looked scrawny compared to the other players on the college team. But, I put on the normal freshman weight, ate very well, and worked out like crazy. Now, I was 253 pounds of pure muscle…well, maybe not pure muscle. Too much social drinking at fraternity parties helped me put on a belly in the past month or so.
“Listen, Coach,” I begged. “I’m really serious about staying on the team. I’d be willing to go the extra mile.”
The coach nodded thoughtfully. He walked around me looking me over. Then I was a little taken back when he reached out grabbing my belly. With two hands he kneaded it roughly.
“Ugh…ooff,” I exclaimed in surprise.
“I see you have the start of a ball belly. But, would you be willing to put on some serious weight?” he asked.
“You mean get fat on purpose?” I replied. “Yeah, if I got to stay on the team.”
“Good man,” the coach said. “I was hoping you’d agree. Our major competition this season are some really huge guys – monsters to be exact. They’d knock you right over. Here you go,” the coach said, handing me a slip of paper with an address on it.
“You go here with this letter from me and they’ll fix you right up. You have a month until the beginning of the new season, so eat well,” he instructed. “Get fat – nice and round.”
“Sure, Coach, I’ll eat and get really fat for you,” I said, walking out the door.
Last edited by Observer : 08-13-2006 at 04:52 PM.
|08-08-2006, 08:34 AM||#2|
Join Date: Apr 2006
Later that day, I arrived at the address the coach gave me. It was a small office building on the south side of town.
"I guess this is the place. I can’t believe that I’m actually going to be encouraged to gain weight. I’ll be able to eat anything I want and as much as I want!"
I rang the bell and the receptionist buzzed me in. A few people were sitting flipping through magazines in the well-lit waiting room. The pretty blonde receptionist greeted me as I handed her the note the coach gave me.
“Oh, yes, you’re one of Coach Greenfield’s boys,” she remarked. “Why don’t you have a seat a minute while I get your paperwork ready.”
“Well, ok,” I shrugged. I guess I’m not the only one the coach has sent here.
The door opened a short portly man in a white lab jacket asked me to come into the office. I was shown into what looked like a doctor’s examination room. There was an oversized examination table, a doctor’s scale, and some instruments.
“Well, Mark, the coach writes to say that you need to gain some weight to play football,” the little man said. “I think we can help you with that. Why don’t you step on the scale and I’ll take some baseline measurements. By the way, I’m Pete. ”
The technician put me on the scale and then I was poked and prodded as he took measurements. He nodded and mumbled to himself in between, jotting notes onto the chart. “I can see you’ve been working out. You have a nice muscular build. Lifting weights?”
“Yeah, I’m at the gym a few times a week working out,” I answered.
“Good, good,” he mumbled, scribbling something else. “Your weight is right now at 251, you have a 40 inch waist, and your gut measures out to a rounding 49 inches. You like to eat, I see,” Pete smiled, poking playful at my belly.
“Yeah, that and the beer. Burgers, beer, the fixings without the turkey, all kinds of heroes, Spanish rice and bean, burritos, ice cream, and cherry pie,” I said. “I love it all.”
“Any allergies?” he asked.
“Nope,” I said.
“Ok, Mark, take a seat. I have to plug a couple of numbers into the computer, put your menu together, and then I’ll bring you inside the facility and introduce you to your feeders,” Pete said, enthusiastically.
“Feeders?” I asked, confused. “I thought…I don’t actually know what I thought.”
“Let me explain. In this facility, we take our clients’ needs, their likes and dislikes, and we help them to meet their potential with a specialized diet and personal encouragers or feeders. You’ll be assigned two feeders. They’re really excellent at their job,” Pete explained. “I’ll be right back to answer any of your questions. I just want you to fill out this food questionnaire while you’re waiting so I can get an idea of your likes and dislikes – if you like any kind of specialty foods we’ll need to get in stock.”
I quickly filled out the paperwork, picked up a magazine, flipped through it, tapped my feet on the floor, and then got up to pace. It was more than a few minutes. I caught sight of myself in the full-length mirror in back of the door. I stared hard at my reflection. I was wearing my 501 blue jeans, black belt, cowboy boots, and a tight, hunter green t-shirt rolled up to display my enormous, muscular arms. It also shows off my protruding gut, I thought, laughing to myself.
There was a knock at the door and Pete returned shadowed by two dissimilar men. The man who looked like a professional bodybuilder was introduced as Cole. He wore an iron black lace-up flex short and a Y-back camouflage stringer tank top. His outfit looked as if it were designed to show off his perfect washboard stomach, the huge throbbing pecs, and the biceps and triceps he had braided into intricate patterns from hours of carefully sculpting his tanned body. Gerulf, the other feeder, looked Norwegian. His skin was so pale that it appeared translucent. He had watery blue eyes and white - blonde hair. He was a head taller than me and looked strong, but where Cole looked bulky, Gerulf had more of a long and lean muscle tone. His height was impressive enough.
We sat down and chatted awhile. They asked me about my goals and eating habits and described the program. I was really excited to begin. Apparently, the college would be paying for everything – my food and board for the next few weeks. My job was to sit around and put on as much weight as possible – a dream come true!
Finally it was time to go inside the facility. Pete walked with me as Cole and Gerulf followed down a hospital antiseptic-looking narrow corridor. I overheard Gerulf and Cole speaking softly behind us.
“Hey,” Gerulf whispered to Cole, “I think maybe he should have chosen sweats instead of the jeans.”
Cole chuckled. “He’ll start really feeling the pressure when his belly starts swelling up like an engorged tick. It will be fun to watch his button burst open.”
“He has no idea what’s in store for him,” Gerulf remarked, dryly.
I gulped. I wondered what I was really getting myself into besides a larger size.
Last edited by Observer : 08-08-2006 at 01:55 PM.
|08-11-2006, 02:00 PM||#3|
Join Date: Apr 2006
Pete brought me into a few rooms where I was introduced to some of their other clients.
Bruno, a very heavy man to begin with, told me that he was indulging in one of his childhood fantasies. He was sitting on a bed of huge satin pillows as several girls in harem outfits feed him a feast any sheik would admire.
Zara couldn’t speak to me. She was reclined in a padded chair in front of a banquet table. She panted as her female feeder actually perched on top of her bulging, ball belly and was spooning mashed potatoes into her mouth almost faster than she could swallow. The male feeder stood in back of them surveying the scene.
Pete explained that Zara would be getting married shortly to a very wealthy man from Nigeria. In their culture, how fat a man’s wife was signaled how successful he was. Traditionally, brides-to-be would enter a fattening room or hut to learn how to please her husband and be educated as to her responsibilities as a wife and mother by other women. But, most importantly, she would be fattened up over a period of weeks to months. Zara believed that since her family had moved to the United States and she had met Ajayi here, that he wouldn’t care about what she considered an absurd tradition. Ajayi was from a wealthy family and he planned on taking Zara back to live there eventually. But, a much fattened Zara.
“How interesting,” I remarked. “How long has she been here?”
“Two months. She’s escaped once and has tried to trick her way out of eating. But, as you can see,” Pete said, pointing to her ballooning midsection. “She’s still put on a good amount of weight. Another three weeks of this and we’ll break her. She’ll comply to her fiancé’s wishes.”
As Pete moved me past Zara’s room, I could see her head turn slightly to follow me with her eyes as her cheeks inflated with the food being shoveled into her gapping mouth. There were a few more rooms before we got to mine. Two men and three women were busy eating themselves or being fed by others.
“We cater to all kinds here,” Pete bragged. “We have the average person who wants to put on the pounds to the famous actor who needs to be fattened up for a role.”
Finally, we arrived at my room. It was a nice sized room. In the center, was a cushy recliner with a 50" Wide screen HD-Ready Plasma Monitor with HDMI Input mounted on the wall with all the premium channels and the all important sports channels on Satellite. There were stacks of DVD movies with a Home Theater System w/ 5-Disc Progressive-Scan DVD/CD Player. There was a Chinese hand painted screen, which slightly blocked my adjustable king-sized bed, which meant I could sit in the recliner or lie in bed and watch TV. A formal dining room table overloaded with food with padded upholstered armchairs. The refrigerator and pantry in the small kitchen was fully stocked. I was all set to begin.
Pete said his goodbyes and wished me well leaving me in the room with my two encouragers, Gerulf and Cole. They immediately showed me to the banquet table lined with all the best barbecue food some old favorites and some new ones: piles of hamburgers, hotdogs, ribs, chicken dripping with sauce, chili, Chinese Barbecued Pork Chops, Beer Basted Steaks, Blackened Chicken Breasts with Grilled Polenta, and a large blackberry cobbler with a pitcher of beer.
“Once a day, the main kitchens will send a cart with your meals for the day,” Gerulf began, “you’re expected to eat every crumb. If by 9 PM Cole and I see that you’re in need of assistance, we’ll do what’s necessary to help you to reach your daily goal. You can also call us at anytime during the day to help you along.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said between mouthfuls of hamburger.
“Hey, that’s our job,” Cole replied, slapping my shoulder and handing me another hamburger. “Since you came midday, you’re missing the breakfast and lunch portions. Your cart will hold a lot more than what you see here.”
“Wow, mmprh, this is a lot of food, I thought it was a whole day’s worth,” I said between bites.
“Nope,” Gerulf stepped in having me recline more in the armchair. “There’s a lot more where this comes from for you to enjoy.” He patted my belly, which was beginning to show a bulge after consuming the sixth hamburger. “You’re going to grow nice and plump for us, Mark – 1 to 2 pounds a day. That’s a 28 to 56 pound gain by the end of the month.
It took until past nine o’clock that first day to get all that food into my belly. It was hard work with frequent stops. I was so exhausted that in the end Cole was spooning chili followed by the cobbler into a thick funnel and I swallowed barely chewing. I kept waving my arms to slow the flow…my green t-shirt crawling up my hugely rounding, belly protruding from underneath…rriiipppp…belly blowing up…sticking straight out over my tightening jeans…Gerulf holding my gut…fingers pressing down into my expanding flesh…the flow increasing…wriggling in my chair to get free… Burrrrrrpppp …my belly round as a basketball and looking very solid protruded far past my well-developed pecs... FARRRT!
“Mark you’ve grown so much already!” Cole cried, “Good job!”
“I ...can’t...take ... Burrrrrrpppp …anymore!” I yelled, holding my ball belly.
“Its so tight!” Gerulf said, thumping what looked like an overripe melon instead of my belly. “Here’s something for you to wash down those burgers. Drink up!”
“ARRRGHHGHH!” I yelled as my head tilted back, the beer flowing into my overfed gut.
Time moved slowly and then suddenly everything stopped. It was over. My jeans had somehow held. The top two buttons had given way, but the other two were intact. Soo full!
“Great job, Mark,” Gerulf praised. “It will get easier as your stomach stretches. But, I think we made great progress today. Let’s get you on your feet.”
“I...don’t...think... Burrrrrrpppp I...can...move... Burrrrrrpppp!” I panted. “Oh, I am so stuffed! I’ve never eaten this much before in my life! Rriiipppp… ”
The two men helped me to my feet. I leaned heavily between them as they helped me to the bed. They dimmed the lights and left me. I’ve never felt this full in my life, so utterly stuffed. My belly ached. I remember rubbing by gut until I fell off into a dreamless sleep.
Last edited by Observer : 08-11-2006 at 03:38 PM.
|08-13-2006, 10:32 AM||#4|
Join Date: Apr 2006
One day rolled into the next as I leisurely stuffed myself each day into the night. I spent pleasant days lounging in bed, reading the newspaper, watching sports, TV sitcoms, and movies, and sampling the most scrumptious fare imaginable. Each day, I finished my daily allowance of food by seven in the evening to the great enjoyment of my feeders. And, each morning my food allowance slightly increased as my hunger did. In my first week, I put on 8 pounds and then 12 glorious pounds in my second week.
Even though I felt heavier, it really didn’t show as much as I had thought it would. I noticed more of a fullness in my belly, slight thickening of my waist, and I could have sworn the inside of my legs brushed each other when I walked. But, this may have just been my imagination. I always felt a feeling of fullness – of completeness. This is what I was made to do.
And, I met a new friend. Zara came to visit with me often. It seems that she settled down and was now accepting her situation. She was also rounding out nicely in all the right places. We talked about everything. We ate popcorn watching late night movies and ate side by side. It was wonderful.
About two weeks and a day into my stay, Zara came in as usual wheeling her cart beside her. It was funny. It seemed that those carts were an extension of ourselves – always with us.
“So, what movie do you want to see today?” I asked her.
“I was thinking of Dirty Dancing?” Zara said, tying her long, jet-black hair into a ponytail.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” I replied, popping in the DVD.
“Wow, it’s only five o’clock and you’re almost finished with your cart,” Zara said, smiling. “How impressive.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a growing boy,” I laughed, rubbing my bloated stomach.
“Yes, you are, my sweet,” Zara teased. “You are lucky you have so much free time to pursue your food interests.”
“Yeah, I’m glad the coach is having someone take care of all my coarse work. I’ll have no homework for a while, not that I have that much anyway. I usually have a tutor; well they’re not really tutors. The players have to keep their averages up if they’re going to be eligible to play on the team,” I explained, reclining in my easy chair. “I guess it would be considered fringe benefits.”
“That is a great deal,” Zara agreed. She came over to where I was sitting and began to rub my belly almost seductively. I moaned. I felt a stirring deep down and it wasn’t in my gut. She had never touched me this way before. It felt good, but…
“Ah, Zara,” I mumbled. “I don’t think…well, you’re engaged and…” She began feeding me large quantities of food from her cart.
“Wait…HUFFPH…stop…what at you doing?” I managed to get out.
“I’m helping to meet my quota,” she began, looking at my innocently. “And, you’ll eat my leavings everyday. I don’t mind putting on a bit of weight, but my fiancé’s requirements are extreme. But, you seem to have more room,” she said poking my belly.
“I won’t do it!” I said, with annoyance. “I can’t possibly eat everything on my cart everyday and part of your cart, too. It’s not humanly possibly.”
“Then it’s too bad that you won’t be able to play football in a few weeks.”
“What? What are you talking about?” I exclaimed in surprise.
“It’s quite simple, my sweet,” she replied. “You either do what I tell you or I’ll report you and your coach to the proper authorities. You’ll be booted out of college and never play again! Now, open up.”
I can’t believe I was that stupid telling her what I did. She stood over me forcing my mouth to move. “Oh you eat like a hog! I bet there's no filling you up, my sweet,” she whispers in my ear. My belly rose as she stuffed me with a whole pie--blueberry. Bite after bite. She shoveled more into my mouth. I had to chew. She loosened the belt, as I grew huge. "OOOOH, “ I moaned as I swelled larger and larger. I felt my skin tightening around my overfed ball belly.
"AAAGHHHHHH. UUUUGGHGGH!” Slowly the tightening of my skin began to decrease, and my belly rumbled loudly. Zara came over and began to slowly feed me again, making me suck rich frosting from the cake off of her finger. I felt myself getting hard also, but after almost three hours of continual packing my belly full, I’m only thinking of finishing this cake. Suddenly Zara took the cake and began to shove it down my throat. I choked a bit on the first piece because of her sheer intensity, then got used to it. When the cake was done, I could only groan unable to talk for the pressure that had built up within me.
Zara helped me up. OOOPH…"N-N-No! N-No! P-Please… Stop!" I was grasping my belly trying not to have it jarred in anyway. She guided me over to the bed slowly. I fell into the bed, not having the strength to do much else.
“You did so well, my sweet,” she crooned. “Until tomorrow then.” Zara turned down the lighting and left rolling her now empty cart in front of her.
I lay flat in bed staring at the ceiling. The remembered feeling of helplessness, being filled beyond capacity was surprisingly a turn on for me. I had never felt anything like that and was shocked at my enjoyment of it. But after awhile, the only thing I heard in the room was my own moaning, as I massaged my gut again falling into a stupor.
Last edited by Observer : 08-13-2006 at 04:45 PM.
|08-13-2006, 10:56 AM||#5|
Join Date: Apr 2006
Two hours later, I was awakened by the sound of two voices.
“How did he get so bloated? I looks like he’s been eating all week in just one day,” Gerulf exclaimed.
“His metabolism must have slowed down a lot faster than the average guy,” Cole replied, roughly poking my gut.
The impact forced a thundering belch from my overfed stomach alerting them to the fact I was now awake.
“Dude, you’re massive,” Cole said. “But we’ve noticed you’ve left a bit on your cart so we’re here to help you out.”
“Oh, no, I can’t. The MSG in the Chinese food has me feeling really bloated,” I lied.
Cole pushed the buttons on my bed. My feet and head rose, putting by engorged middle into a vice grip. I felt cold sweat on my forehead and my stomach burned. My belly bloated over my belt and I felt the cramping begin deep in my gut. The grumbling grew louder in my belly
“See you are still hungry,” Gerulf laughed. “Well, you’re pretty solid, but soft. Don’t worry we’ll get it all in you.”
I gorged and gorged. I just started just swallowing gobs of food whole. My stomach started aching as I tried to belch between bites. Cole rubbed my belly explaining he liked his boys fat and that he was going to force-feed me and stretch my stomach. I was blowing up like a balloon. I hiccupped loudly, my hands pushed away from my tightened gut. Gerulf massaged the belly balloon, which was so over gorged that even with me partially leaning back, I had difficulty seeing over it. I was stuffed and I couldn't hold any more. But, Gerulf suggested that I breathe deeply and eat more.
The pain spread through my stomach and gripped my abdomen as the last noodle was pushed into me. My belly was swollen beyond belief and I could barely move.
Last edited by Observer : 08-13-2006 at 04:46 PM.
|08-13-2006, 11:41 AM||#6|
Join Date: Apr 2006
Part 6/Last Part
Morning came eventually, and the sunshine warmed my spherical belly through the parted window blinds. My belly was huge, but I also noticed that everywhere else had a thin layer of fat beginning to form. I ran my hands over my soft ball belly. Last night, my belly was terribly puffed up and felt as tight as a drum
Now that the food had settled and was digested, all was still bloated up all over but from the gas that had settled in over the night. AAGHHHHHH…UUUUGGHGGH…PFFFTT… I must have farted for over an hour massaging my belly.
Then my door opened and my food cart was dropped off again. More food... NEVER! Then I realized that I was getting hungry again. Just as Cole told me I would be. I guess Zara and the boys really stretched my belly out. Well, there’s only way to find out.
I dug into the pancakes dripping with butter and maple syrup, fat waffles with whipped cream and fruit, biscuits and gravy, scrapple, bacon, greasy sausage, multiple omelets, French toast, oatmeal sweetened with honey, steak with eggs, and jugs of orange juice and coffee. My belly was blocking my view of the TV as I filled my fat face. Before my gut could take no more, I stopped feasting. Stomach full, but not yet swollen, I marveled at how much I just consumed. I knew Zara would be arriving with her cart soon and I had to make a dent in my own.
Like clockwork every afternoon, Zara appeared in my room and began my stuffing sessions. One day, she tied me down, spread-eagled, across my bed with her nylon stockings. She took great pleasure in prying open my mouth as wide as possible when I refused to eat. She began shoving in food at an alarming rate. I had no time to chew, so I bit and swallowed, and bit and swallowed.
MPHFM…OOOOOF…MPHF… “ I’m. AAGHHHHHH . . . going to . . . explode.” I cried. I was moaning and my stomach felt that it was about to explode! Zara stroked my belly with one hand and kept feeding me with the other, ordering me to keep eating. She continued to fill up and pack me full unmercifully. I was grunting and farting uncontrollably.
I was trying to anticipatie what was next. I never could because she always varied her routine. She would only leave when I was panting like a dog, a bulging sphere solidly swollen. She sometimes helped me finish my cart. Other times Cole and Gerulf were compelled to help me along to their continued glee.
I packed on weight and filled out all over. It got to a point where the boys would show up sometimes minutes after Zara left to make me do some weight lifting so my arms stayed strong and hard. My belly filled to capacity would be bulging at it was pushed and pumped as I lifted weights over my head. I almost threw up a few times. But they would finish quickly so they could sit and watch me eat some more.
I was disturbed towards the end of my stay when they increased Zara’s intake of food. It appeared that her metabolism was too quick now and the pounds weren’t sticking on her. Of course that will happen when someone else is eating your food. I was pumped full of her food and mine all day and night. I swelled up to a monstrous size. In the end, I gained over 100 pounds that month and continued to put on weight during the season. I had no problems and I was very successful.
Zara, on the other hand, was found out. It seems that they had cameras planted in our rooms. They enjoyed watching Zara stuff me for the month. She did their work well. But, poor Zara, was told that since she took so much enjoyment out of her experiences with me, then she should have her own. Her fiancé extended her stay for another few months. I was invited back to watch her once. She was tied down and fed two carts of food round the clock.
"St-st-stop this!" huffed the bloated Zara. The excessive feeding pushed out her sides, her waist was gone and she appeared to be a huge lump of hulking flesh.
"No! No more!" she screamed. OOPH… she was fed more as if she wasn't filled up enough. Needless to say, her wedding gown must have gone back a few times for alterations.
Last edited by Observer : 08-13-2006 at 04:49 PM.
|08-16-2006, 06:48 PM||#7|
Yes, all this can b yours
Join Date: Jun 2006
Location: Brussels, Belgium
Great story - I love the sidebar about Zara. Hope to see more and learn how fat the two of them become!