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|05-20-2008, 09:43 PM||#1|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Chasing Rachel - by Elroy Cohen (~BBW, ~BHM, Intrigue ~SWG )
~BBW, ~BHM, Intrigue ~SWG - A couple of con artists try to evade a relentless private investigator while pulling off the con of their careers
by Elroy Cohen
(1 month after the wedding)
Rachel inspected her physique in the locker room’s full length mirror before she went out to lead her first aerobics class since being back from her honeymoon.
She was absolutely disgusted at what she saw. The month long cruise had taken its toll on her once flawlessly lean body. Thirty days of doing nothing but eating and frolicking with her new husband diminished her overall tone and added the slightest of ridges above her xs jogging shorts.
To everyone else the changes were hardly, if at all, noticeable. She was still the petite, dark haired, gorgeous woman she was before she married the richest most successful real estate mogul in all of Georgia. To Rachel however she was very anxious to get back to her job instructing fitness classes at the health club. Seeing herself as anything less then perfect was hard, but she told herself it would all be worth it in the end.
Her first class back was not going well at all. On top of feeling bloated she also felt very lethargic and was out of step with her class. To add to her stress she was interrupted midway through by the receptionist who motioned for her emphatically through the glass wall of the classroom to come out.
Forcing a smile she excused herself and scurried out to the hall.
“You got someone on line four who says it’s very important.” The receptionist, Jane, told her. “I normally wouldn’t interrupt your class but now that you’re married to an important man like Mister Carrin I thought it might be like urgent or something.”
“Thank you kindly, Jane.” Rachel’s southern accent said through the same forced smile she had given her class.
Rachel jogged down the hall to her office and closed the door behind her. As she picked up the phone she glanced around through the office’s glass walls to see if anyone was out in the hallway.
“Rachel Mcgo- uh, Rachel Carrin.” She corrected herself in her perky Georgia drawl.
“Drop the act, witch, it’s me.” A stern female voice shot back.
Suddenly all traces of perky accent were gone. “What are you doing calling me here? And pulling me out of a class no less.”
“I haven’t heard from you in a month. How ‘bout a progress report?” the voice angrily demanded.
“Listen, I told you I can make this work but it’ll take years not months. I think I got him convinced to ditch the weight loss guru but if you call me every couple of weeks Robbie will sense something’s up.” Rachel whispered, constantly checking out into the hall to see if anyone was around.
“Oh it’s Robbie now is it? Not Robert Carrin anymore.”
“Oh pipe down. You knew what we were getting into with this.” Rachel sighed.
There was nothing but silence from the other end of the line.
“Besides, when this is all said and done you can have me back…and the five billion that comes with me. But if you don’t let me get back to aerobics I’ll be the same size as Robbie.” Rachel finished by firmly hanging the phone up. She took a second to compose herself and stepped back out into the hall. Down by the entrance to the classroom the plump young Jane was anxiously waiting.
“Nothing serious, I hope, Rachel?” She asked meekly.
Rachel flashed her a beaming smile. “Not at all, hun,” Her accent was back in place. “Robbie just wanted to tell me how much he loves me. He’s such a sweetheart.”
When she passed Jane in the doorway Rachel gave her a friendly pat on the back. As Rachel disappeared through the swarm of leotard-clad housewives Jane whispered to herself, “Gosh, I wish I could keep my figure after a buffet filled cruise. I gained ten pounds just on spring break.”
Halfway back to her spot in the front of the room Rachel glanced back at Jane who still stood admiring her from afar.
Poor cow, she thought to herself. That cute little innocent act will only get her so far in life. Especially with that double chin and bubble but.
She chuckled to herself as she started up the class once again.
It takes a real ball buster to make anything of yourself in this man’s world.
Last edited by Observer : 05-20-2008 at 10:27 PM.
|05-20-2008, 09:55 PM||#2|
Join Date: Feb 2007
(5 weeks after the wedding)
Chelsea Carrin’s nineteenth birthday party was a very sad pathetic scene. To Mary Munoz, the Carrin’s maid of fifteen years, however, it was more entertaining then anything else.
Chelsea sat at the end of thirty foot long dinning table that was buried beneath a mountain of open presents. The gifts included two sets of keys to a new car and a new SUV, (both of which the birthday girl had not even bothered to go outside and look at) and loads of beautiful gold jewelry that sparkled with diamonds. Piles of expensive clothing and more shoes then Mary would ever own in her life rounded out the gifts.
The sad part was not Chelsea’s flippant attitude toward the gifts, some of which were only half opened or even tossed aside as if it appeared to be something she did not care for. No, the sad part was that every last one of the gifts were from one person; her father, Robert Carrin.
All her other relatives had grown tired of her primadonna act by her tenth birthday and all her female friends had been offended by her I’m-better-then-you attitude before high school. Any male friends she managed were there only for one thing and it was certainly not to spend time with her outside the bedroom. Even her dad had pushed back the age of her receiving her trust fund to twenty-one up from eighteen since he did not think she was mature enough to handle the money when she turned eighteen.
She’ll be lucky if she’s ever mature enough. Mary thought.
The pathetic part of course was the fact that the only people present at the birthday party beside the spoiled girl herself were her father’s help. Most of them had even avoided the festivities if at all possible. It had really just been Mary, who had come to enjoy the spectacle of the lonely rich girl’s birthdays, and the chef.
The chef was charged with the daunting task of catering the event. Whatever meals he prepared were destined to be criticized by the girl and the cake that he devoted hours upon hours creating would be unceremoniously demolished by Chelsea who would without fail plow into in with both hands when the depression of another birthday by herself got to be too much.
As Mary watched on she could tell Chelsea was mere seconds from being at that point as she pulled nervously on her cashmere sweater.
“Wasn’t daddy supposed to be back from his honeymoon by now?” She whined to no one in particular.
Mary waited for just the right moment to giver her the bad news. She watched as the young woman stood up in a huff, sniffling as if she were on the verge of tears. She stared vacantly at the elegant four foot tall white and pink birthday cake that would go unseen by anybody else and would be tossed in the trash after she gorged herself on what she could.
“Your father’s been back since Tuesday, Miss Carrin. I think he’s away on business.” Mary paused for effect, “I’m sure he wanted to be here.”
Chelsea’s sniffles turned to into audible whimpers that caused her massive chest to jiggle beneath her sweater.
The young Carrin’s shape was as much a spectacle as her birthday parties. Like her father her form was a testament to American excess and gluttony. Unlike her father, however, it was not because of her sheer mass alone. Chelsea was very overweight for sure but her distribution of weight was very atypical. Most of her excess baggage was carried in her chest. A chest that had developed at age eight and had appeared to never stop developing. She was a “DD” by her freshman year in high school and by her junior year had to be custom fitted for bras that did their best to contain her blossoming cleavage. Expensive creams had to be administered to keep stretch marks from marring the constantly stretching skin.
It could certainly be argued that while running or jumping with melons of her size had been out of the question since grade school pampered little Chelsea probably would not have done much exercising regardless. Whatever the true reason the girl’s sedentary lifestyle rounded out a good deal of the rest of her physique.
Her long legs spread into pale, doughy stacks of cellulite that were capped by large flabby cheeks that jiggled with every step she took on her expensive heels. Her midsection, while appearing to taper in from her colossal chest and wide hips was also quite soft with rolls that neither she nor many other people would ever see due to her hefty udders.
Her face was round and chubby looking but still quite pretty thanks in no little part to top of the line make-up applied very thickly.
The make-up held up quite well as Chelsea finally broke down and plowed head first into the top layer of the towering cake. While she munched away her heavy hanging breasts rested on the next layer, leaving beach ball sized impressions.
“I’ll go get you some milk, Miss Carrin.” Mary said with a grin.
(continued in post 5 of this thread)
Last edited by Observer : 05-21-2008 at 11:00 PM.
|05-21-2008, 02:43 PM||#4|
Join Date: Oct 2005
EC, will get back at you soon in reference to your present story... What about the other story?
It comes down to a simple choice. Get busy eating or get busy starving! I prefer eating, myself!
|05-21-2008, 09:21 PM||#5|
Join Date: Feb 2007
(2 months after the wedding)
Doctor Remington Bresmire looked across the expansive office at Robert Carrin and was unable to mask his shock. It had only been four months since he had last seen the obese billionaire but the change in his weight was astonishingly. He was hunkered down over his desk tearing into a large piece of fried chicken. By the looks of the empty containers scattered about his elaborately carved oak desk he was on his second bucket. He dipped the fried meat into a box of mashed potatoes and then into a bowl of gravy before each bite.
It seemed quite odd to the doctor because up until Robert’s recent wedding the whale of a man had paid him an insane sum of money to help him get his insatiable appetite under control, but ever since the enormous overeater would not even return his calls and had obviously not been adhering to the diet plan.
“You’ll excuse me if I finish my lunch while we meet.” Robert voice was barely understandable through his mouthful of food. “Rachel dropped off my favorite on her way to the club.”
“I’m sorry to burst in on you unannounced Robert, but you’ve cancelled on me three times since you’ve been back from your honeymoon.” The doctor’s eyes were still wide with the shock of seeing the supposedly refined master of the real estate market shoveling food into his mouth like a wild animal.
“It’s important that we keep close tabs on the progress of your diet. With what you’re paying me to consult on your weight loss I would think you’d take it a little more seriously.”
Remington was trying to keep things polite and professional but it was obvious just on sight that Robert had long since abandoned the diet. Not just because of the astonishing amount of junk food before him but it was more then obvious he was much heavier then last time he saw him. That in itself was saying something since Robert had been over four hundred pounds at that time it would take quite a gain to be visibly noticeable.
It became even more noticeable when the Billionaire stood up, an act that took a good couple minutes of shifting, pushing and grunting. His belly surged forward across his lap and then down against his thighs with a muffled slap. The buttons of his designer dress shirt were pulled within millimeters of bursting.
“Doctor Bestmire,” Robert huffed. Just the act of rising out of his chair had him winded and he was getting more so as he waddled out from behind his desk.
“It’s Bresmire,” the doctor corrected.
“Whatever. Your fired.” Carrin shrugged, “My wife and I have given it a lot of thought over our honeymoon and decided my happiness isn’t tied to my weight. So I’ll pay you for your time but I will no longer be needing your services.”
“You happiness might not be tied to your weight but your health is and 418 pounds on your 5’-10” frame is unhealthy. Not to mention you look a little heavier then that now. At this rate you’ll be over 500 pounds in no time,” the doctor protested.
“My assistant will show you out.” Robert gestured towards the door and then waddled back behind his desk and sank down as the overtaxed chair creaked loudly.
“You’re making a big mistake Mister Carrin. I could have you below 350 by Christmas.”
Robert seemed to be ignoring him now. His concentration was back on his lunch. His grunting continued through his gorging but was now a higher pitched almost squealing, as if the act of eating was giving him sexual pleasure.
Remington gave one last look of disgust before storming out of the room. As soon as the door slammed behind him Robert leaned back and looked down toward where his lap would be if his belly did not completely cover it.
“I told you to wait to start until he left.” he gasped, gravy running down his multiple chins.
From under the desk Rachel’s head popped out. Her arms were buried elbow deep beneath his distended gut, slowly rocking back and forth. “Oh sorry, hun. I thought he had.”
Her arms continued their steady movement causing Robert’s breathing to become rapid and leaving him at a loss for words. Rachel looked up on the desk at the remaining food and stopped short. She crawled over to a small fridge along the back wall and opened it up.
“You better hurry up with lunch if you want to make it to dessert, sugar bear.” From the fridge she pulled out a large, thick cheesecake and licked her bright red lips seductively.
Instinctively Robert reached for the rest of the chicken and potatoes with both his fat hands.
As Rachel watched her husband put away an ungodly amount of greasy fried chicken and chase it with a thick creamy cheesecake she thought to herself how perfectly things were going.
(continued in post 8 of this thread)
Last edited by Observer : 06-05-2008 at 07:33 PM.
|05-28-2008, 11:01 AM||#7|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Thanks to TheOwl and Vader7476 for showing interest in the story so far. I always very much appreciate those that take the time to post feedback even if I'm not always prompt to acknowledge it. I'll have more of this story ready by next week by my best guesstimate.
|05-30-2008, 12:40 PM||#8|
Join Date: Feb 2007
It did not take long for Charles to pack everything he owned. Less then ten minutes, in fact, and it all fit not-so-neatly into a small gym bag.
As he stuffed torn jeans and wrinkled t-shirts into his bag he glared at the newspaper clipping laid out on the bed he had printed off the internet; A photo of a petite young woman clutching the tree trunk size arm of a much older man at their wedding reception.
ONE OF AMERICA’S TEN RICHEST MENAfter months of searching it was finally definitive proof to Charles of Rachel’s location. He was not sure how she had passed herself off as a southern belle. With her oil slick black hair and hook nose she looked more Brooklyn then backwoods. No matter, Charles’s concern was not how she had managed just that she had and that his endless hours spent chasing Rachel were about to pay off.
While Charles lost himself glaring at Rachel’s smiling black and white image Lisa, his girlfriend he had been living with for three years, barged into the room. She was visibly angry. Charles had thought he would be able to safely leave without having to confront her as her shift at Dairy Queen did not end until nine.
“What’s this? I come home for lunch and find you throwing things around the bedroom like you looking for a hidden treasure or something.”
The very robust Lisa scowled at him and then noticed the bag. “Uh oh - you aren’t leaving, are you?”
Her baggy black t-shirt that proclaimed the thick and creamy nature of a recently consumed hot fudge brownie sundae was drenched in sweat. The perspiration was partially from leaning over the deep fryers all day but also from the fact that she had walked to work after Charles told her he would be needing to borrow her car. He had just failed to tell her he was not planning on ever giving it back.
Charles and Lisa’s relationship had gone south long before he had planned to sneak off. As a police officer he probably should have known that a woman he picked up as the result of a domestic disturbance call probably is not destined to be a lifelong partner.
In his defense Charles did not make the first move but after four trips to Lisa’s mom’s apartment to break up heated arguments between her and her then boyfriend Charles felt compelled to give her some advice that involved leaving the deadbeat. The act of goodwill sparked a crush from Lisa on the well meaning officer and she started showing up everywhere he was whether he was on duty or not.
He had initially been less then interested. At the time Lisa was much too thin for his tastes and partook in a few habits that would be deemed inappropriate for the girlfriend of a police officer.
Lisa was determined in her crush, however, so she had beaten her demons cold turkey. As a result unknowingly took care of two birds with one stone. Her many less-then-legal vices morphed into one very big vice. Namely one with regular two half pound beef patties covered in gooey, melted cheese, huge dollops of mayonnaise sandwiched between a Kaiser roll and topped with extra bacon.
Determined Lisa turned from scrawny and chemically dependant to a chubby police groupie in short order which in turn got Charles’s attention. After a few months of dating Charles himself was just as smitten as Lisa and agreed to buy a double wide trailer with her if she found a steady job. The convenient and very rewarding work Lisa found was in fast food.
With a steady supply of her new addiction at her fingertips for ten hours a day Lisa quickly blossomed from a slightly porky dishwasher to a very portly burger flipper. Unfortunately her man was not around much to appreciate her swelling paunch and flaring hips since it was about that time he seemed to throw himself into his work. When he was at home he seemed to be researching things for work.
As a result Lisa grew restless and paranoid. Toward the end of their relationship she had good reason since she could not remember the last time she had seen Charles in uniform although he claimed to be heading off to work. She did not put too much effort into looking into his true activities as she herself had been divrsifying - flirting with the grill man and making out with the assistant manager at her work for quite some time.
Those reasons were more then enough for her reaction when she caught Charles packing a bag unexpectedly and he said, “Don’t try and stop me. You know this has been coming for quite a while.”
An almost comical look came across Lisa’s face as she said, “Oh I ain’t goin’ stop ya. I just want to make sure you leave your half of the mortgage for next month and I sure hope you weren’t thinking of actually taking my car.”
Her head wagged back and fourth as she spoke as if she were scolding a child.
Charles said nothing. He hurriedly folded up his news clipping and pushed past his sweaty, more then full figured ex with his half filled duffle and headed out.
As he walked past the coffee table in the living room he noticed a greasy bag full of what was Lisa’s lunch. After peeking back down the short hallway to make sure Lisa was still in the bedroom, checking to make sure he had not packed anything of hers, he did something that he knew would tick her off much more then taking off with her rusted out ’88 Escort ever would.
Charles was twenty feet out of the trailer when Lisa burst through the door. In her pudgy hand a thick, greasy, mayo dripping burger with a big bite missing from it.
“I know you didn’t just take a bite out of my lunch. I should come over there and knock your ass out.” Five steps in the midday sun and her already chaffed legs made Lisa think her estranged former lover was not worth the trouble and went back inside to finish her already started burger, as well as the three others waiting on the coffee table.
Last edited by Observer : 05-30-2008 at 04:11 PM.
|05-30-2008, 12:47 PM||#9|
Join Date: Feb 2007
(6 months after the wedding)
From her slouched position on the couch nineteen yesar old Chelsea tried to peer over her naked, saliva covered knockers to get a better look at the man she had picked up from the nightclub as the place was closing. If what she remembered through her drunken haze was correct he was nothing to look at. Still, seeing as how he had spent the last half hour turning her prized boobs slimy, swollen, pink and sore without even attempting to remove her pants she figured it was time to move him downstairs and get this over with.
As she pried his chapped lips from her throbbing nipples he was just as she remembered; a scrawny, acne covered, bug-eyed creep. But seeing as Chelsea had not had a date or even a booty call in months she was desperate to have something besides the cold plastic of her dildo inside her. This guy had been the only one without someone else who was sober enough to be standing upright at last call, so he would have to do.
As Chelsea fumbled clumsily underneath her cumbersome cleavage to undo the guy’s pants she was disgusted to feel him unload on her hands right there.
“You got to be kidding me.” she moaned.
“Can we just cuddle tonight, Jen.” The sleepy eyed guy slurred, leaning into toward Chelsea’s sore rack with his tongue flicking wildly.
“What did you call me? That does it. Get out of here before I call the cops.”
After ushering the nameless one night stand that was not meant to be out the door Chelsea sanitized her hands and headed out toward the one place where she had not been disappointed once during her dateless months; the kitchen. Little did she know she was being watched.
Her step-mother Rachel silently followed the topless diva and looked on from the doorway as the young woman assumed a position she had quite often during the last few months; bent down, peering into the large, industrial grade refrigerator. Her unsupported breasts hung down almost to knee level as she leaned in. The swayed rhythmically back and forth like pendulums on a grandfather clock, albeit fat pendulums at that.
Chelsea’s ass was certainly larger and blocked out more of the view of the fridge then when Rachel had first spied on her. Her thighs looked lumpy beneath the tight denim of her jeans. Bulges of fat were visibly accumulating on the inside of her knees. In this position Rachel was also able to get a peak on the oft hid belly that now, bloated from a night of beer, hung down over the waist of her low rise pants.
Although Rachel was quite stealthy when she followed Chelsea around on her many spying episodes the reality is there was really no point to it. Rachel knew it. What she hoped to achieve had been happening on its own as the self centered heir to billions went through a dry spell in the romance department. She was a big snacker naturally but without any boyfriend material or even one night stand material to occupy her weekends she buried her loneliness with food non stop. The result was a few more trips to her private tailor then usual.
Rachel grinned smugly as Daddy’s overstuffed little girl ate a half pan of brownies right out of the fridge and then washed it down with a couple big swallows of chocolate milk. Tossing her head back to swig the milk her knockers thrust out prominently, their chilled nipples standing at full attention as if pointing the way for their owners next binge food. Rachel left to go back to the bedroom after Chelsea dug into a bowl of cookie dough with her manicured fingers.
Rachel was beginning to come to the realization that her constant monitoring of young Chelsea might be stemming from jealousy. Not jealousy of her money or lifestyle mind you because if things went as planned that would be taken care of. No Rachel was experiencing Boob-envy. Chelsea's huge mounds of wobbling flesh pillows seemed to scream out to Rachel that she herself had never developed at all in the breast department.
The small mosquito bites Rachel had gained over the last few months as a result of having to partake in large fattening meals with her husband were of no consolation when Chelsea jiggled by with her backbreaking mammeries.
Shaking off her emotion Rachel strode back into the bedroom on her stiletto heels and stood at the foot of the bed alluringly with her hand on her hip. The checkered ultra mini-skirt showed off every inch of her long legs. Her bleached white uniform shirt, tied at the waist and unbuttoned to show off her black lace bra completed the school girl outfit. The outfit also revealed that any sign of muscle tone had vanished from her well tanned body.
The unavoidable side effect of being married to a man that she fed fattening foods to at every turn was something that was not going unnoticed by her, but as she looked down on the bed upon the results of her hard work she was pleased none the less.
Laying on the reinforced California king bed was a man she had turned from a constantly dieting obese man who was frustrated with not being able to get his weight down below 400 pounds into a happy glutton who ate with reckless abandon and was far closer to 500 pounds now then he was to 400 in less then a year. He was half asleep after being fed a midnight snack that would make his daughter’s recent refrigerator raid look like a light nibble.
“You’re not tired are you, sugar bear?” Rachel whispered breathlessly.
“No, come here, baby” The mountain of a man moaned. Even in his elevated position, with a half dozen pillows piled behind his back he had to crane his neck to see his wife over his immense gut packed full of food. When he did get a good look at her his eyes instantly widened and he licked his lips.
Rachel took her time walking around to the side of the bed. She drug her long nails over Robert’s fat, swollen feet and wondered how much longer he would be mobile on his own. She massaged his thick calves and blubber covered knees and wondered how long until they were completely hidden by his ever growing paunch.
Rachel spent a long time at Robert’s largest part; the stomach. A small part of her realized she was enjoying herself for reasons she did not understand. She tickled and stroked on and around the deep belly-button and under and over the wide apron until her overfed man was red-faced and sweaty with anticipation. Then she stopped.
“Don’t stop, baby, keep going.” Robert grunted.
“Just one thing before we start, sugar bear,”
“Before I forget I need you to sign something for me.” From the nightstand Rachel produced a conveniently placed clipboard and pen.
“What’s this?” Robert asked impatiently as his entire blubbery body seemed to squirm with anticipation.
“It has to do with Chelsea’s trust fund.” Rachel did her best to bat her eyes and look vapid. “You know I don’t understand this stuff but the lawyers made a change to some of the wording. They said it doesn’t change anything it just a formality because now I’m a Carrin."
Rachel watched gleefully as the still panting Robert looked confused but signed quickly regardless, not even glancing at the document. The normally very astute, legally proficient man tossed aside common sense when faced with the possibility of delaying intimacy.
I can only hope everything goes this smoothly. Rachel thought as she set the clipboard down out of Robert’s reach. Chelsea’s trust fund was miniscule compared to what she was really after yet Rachel was downright giddy after seeing Robert’s name on the bottom line. After a few more minutes of teasing the school girl costume came off and was conveniently draped over the clipboard that still had the post it arrow Robert’s lawyers had put next to the added line:
"If upon turning twenty-one Chelsea Renée Carrin is deemed clinically obese by a health care professional all monies will pass on to Rachel Diane Carrin immediately."
(continued in post 11 of this thread)
Last edited by Observer : 06-05-2008 at 07:35 PM.
|06-04-2008, 04:01 PM||#11|
Join Date: Feb 2007
(1 year after the wedding)
Rachel was incredibly frustrated even though everything had been going according to plan. Robert could not have stuffed himself with any more food if he had two more hands. Rachel had a hard time keeping him full. He seemed almost liberated since he had renounced dieting and accepted his rampant obesity, which seemed to almost defy classification. Long past overweight and obese before he had even met Rachel, he had sailed through morbid obesity and being grossly obese like a track start doing the forty-yard dash. Yet despite his immense physique – and this is where some of Rachel’s frustration came from – after a year of constant feeding and very little exercise he remained almost completely independent.
The stubborn billionaire continued to get himself out of bed every morning by working up enough momentum to roll his mass to the edge of the mattress and kick his barely-recognizable-as-appendages legs blindly until he found his footing, and then he slowly would inch himself into a standing position. The routine took almost a half hour to complete and left the man sweaty and out of breath.
Despite what you might think, Rachel could barely bring herself to watch the morning ritual for fear he would slip and his well over a quarter-ton of flesh would shatter every bone he landed on. Her plan was never to cause pain to anyone, simply to accentuate a pre-existing flaw to her financial benefit. Plus, she kept having these nagging feelings for the man she had come to realize was very heartfelt and genuine, if a little money obsessed.
There were signs Robert was starting to head toward needing assistance; once he managed himself into a standing position he was very limited in how long he could stay that way. Showers were becoming a rarity as even when he did brave the slippery tile floor her was able to reach only a small portion of his gigantic body with his heavy arms and fat, inflexible fingers. He was all too willing to trust Rachel with the task of keeping his unreachable areas clean. She could only hope this trust would translate over to other, more important, things when he became even more dependent on assistance. If that time would ever come.
Chelsea was the one area of Rachel’s current situation that was not frustrating her. She was making her a little sympathetic, however. The more she witnessed the spoiled brat moping around the empty mansion eating or muttering to herself or shouting orders to anyone who would listen, the more she felt for the girl. Having no friends and no special man in her life, Chelsea unknowingly had her stepmother feeling sorry for her. Even if it was her own foul attitude contributing to her inability to socialize, Rachel felt it was her upbringing that was truly to blame. In that sense, Rachel saw a little of herself in young Chelsea, and almost felt bad for conspiring to finagle her way into the girl’s inheritance.
Rachel felt in no way bad for the extra weight that piled itself onto Chelsea’s body as a result of her pouting and snacking, because Chelsea’s chest remained her largest warehouse of excess fat. Her breasts seemed to grow like she was still experiencing puberty. Now instead of blossoming outward the huge sacks sagged downward, pulling relentlessly against the poor girl’s lower back. Cup size was not increasing quite as fast as the measurement around her torso. Almost as if her body were trying to balance out the weight, back fat accumulated in large gobs around her shoulder blades. Any attempts to balance and or contain the massive hooters was for not for even when Chelsea’s heavy-duty bras were recently fit to her chest she was constantly tugging and adjusting the uncomfortable garments that stood little chance against the heavy, flopping flesh.
Rachel’s most prevalent frustration was clearly evident on the fateful day she was able to escape the mansion for a jog for the first time in nearly a year. She had not attempted to put on her sports bra and jogging shorts for the same amount of time. Shortly after returning from the honeymoon she had finally given in to Robert’s whining about her being at the gym so much and quit her aerobic instructing. She told herself it was to keep Robert from getting suspicious but deep down she was touched that he cared so much about where she was and that he wanted to spend time with her. Now, however, once she pried on her former workout gear, instead of looking like a true fitness instructor she could clearly see she had transformed into a plump housewife.
While it was not the worst thing in the world to her to finally have breasts (a true B-cup) it was the love handles, cellulite and chafing as her thunder thighs rubbed together that she could do without. A year of living with a man who ate like a pig in slop constantly had certainly had its effect on her.
As she slowly jogged past the mansion’s security gate and out into the street she felt slow and clumsy. Just as she was about to reach around to her softer backside to pull the now too tight shorts out from between her cheeks she was shocked to see an out of place looking car parked along the street.
As she cautiously approached the car marked “Las Vegas Police Department,” a familiar man got out. Tall, scruffy- looking with brown hair that was a mess of thick tangles atop his head, he emerged from the car with a sly grin on his face.
“Put on a little weight have we, Rachel?” he sneered.
“A little out of your jurisdiction aren’t we, Officer Naven?” she retorted, continuing her jog past him and his car but keeping a stern gazed fixed upon him.
“It’s detective now,” he corrected, leaning casually back against the police car. “And I got a tip that there was a known con artist that had been thought to be dead now turned up married to one of the wealthiest men in the country.”
Rachel stopped mid stride. There was a long pause as she planned her next words carefully. “Whatever your thinking it’s not true. I’m reformed. I’m domesticated now.” She patted her soft tummy for emphasis. “See, fat and happy.”
Detective Naven gave a mocking chuckle. “Or maybe a side effect of what you're doing to this Carrin guy. I saw a picture of him at the wedding and then one from last week. It looks like you pumping him up with bicycle pump he’s gaining weight so fast.”
Rachel shook her head and then spit defiantly at Naven’s feet. “Enough games.” She held her wrists together and then thrust them toward the detective. “Either arrest me for failing to put my food-loving husband on a diet, which you couldn’t even do if you wanted to since you’re a thousand miles out of your jurisdiction, or leave me alone.”
There was a cold silence as the two stared each other down. Then Naven broke the tension.
“I didn’t say I was a detective on the Las Vegas PD. I bought the car at a police auction before I left.”
Rachel kept her icy gaze fixed on the lanky detective.
“I’m a private investigator now.” Naven paused for reaction but got none so he continued. “My first client is someone you might know very well. Does Alex Vartencauf ring any bells?”
Still no visible reaction although inside Rachel had to contain her shock.
“The successful producer escaped your attempts to con him out of his money, but it appears you broke his heart when he found out your true nature so he hired me to track you down.”
“So what, you can’t do anything. I’m clean now and it was never proven I took anything from Alex.” Rachel spoke confidently, but in her head she was quickly running through things Naven might be able to find if he pried.
“Maybe, maybe not, we’ll see. If you’re telling the truth then I’m sure I’ll be gone in a couple days and you can go back to enjoying married life,” Naven said with a devious grin.
There were another few minutes of deafening silence before Rachel turned in a huff and continued her jog. She stopped and spun around when she heard a series of clicks behind her.
Naven was snapping photos of her with a small cell phone when she turned around.
“Taking some shots to jack-off to tonight at whatever cheap motel you’re staying at,” she growled. "If you keep harassing me I'll call the police on you," she bluffed.
Naven’s devious grin was still in place. “If in fact you are telling the truth and Alex won’t get his vindication I thought maybe he could get a small victory in seeing how you’ve become a chunky, kept woman, sweating through a jog in order to be able to fit into sexy lingerie for your husband.”
Without waiting for a response Naven hopped into his car and sped away, leaving Rachel to run into yet another surprise visitor on her ill-timed jog.
Passing by the public restrooms at a local park Rachel was startled by a voice coming from the men’s room.
“How about a progress report, witch?”
After collecting herself she glanced around to make sure Naven’s car was not following her and ducked into the restroom. Once inside she was grabbed roughly and pressed against the cold brick wall where she got a split second to look at the greasy-haired, green-eyed woman in front of her before she was kissed deeply. Out of instinct Rachel fought the woman’s advance for a split second before taking part in a passionate, very intimate kiss that lasted minutes and left her weak in the knees.
After catching her breath Rachel scolded, “Cheri, you’re going to get us busted. I just ran into Charles.”
Cheri started to ignore her, focusing instead on the round, soft additions to Rachel’s anatomy on her chest which she poked suspiciously. “Eating well I see. I guess there’ll be no more teasing me about being a size fourteen. Wait, who did you see.”
“Officer Charles Naven. The guy who nearly caught us red handed on that Vegas job.”
“Oh, him.” Cheri snapped to attention, her round face pulling into a wrinkled scowl. “What did he want?”
Rachel looked annoyed. “Oh, I don’t know? He was a little curious as to why I turned up married to Carrin two years after I drove my car off a cliff and was presumed dead.”
Cheri seemed unimpressed and had turned her attention back to Rachel’s softer shape. “He's got nothing on us or he would have made a move already. You can deal with him and if you can’t I can. Just follow through with the plan. If it goes right there is nothing illegal about it.”
There was a pause as for the second time that day Rachel thought carefully about her words. “About that…I think I want to change the plan a little.”
“I don’t want to mess with the girl’s trust fund. When Robbie gets too big to leave his bed and gives me access to what we want I’ll liquidate what I can to our Swiss account and take off.” Rachel spoke quickly as if her speedy delivery would help her sell the new plan to her co-conspirator.
“Let me think about that for a minute.” Cheri said sarcastically. “No, get all of his accounts and the girl’s fund. That was the original plan and we’re sticking with it. End of story.”
Rachel was hesitant to tell Cheri the true reason for her change of heart so she launched into a lesser but still very relevant truth. “Listen, partner, I’m the one putting my ass on the line and now that I got a former cop on my ass I think I’m the one that decides what we can and can’t get.”
Cheri eyes squinted. It was easy for Rachel to tell when she was thinking. After fifteen years of running scams after they had met in a foster home she had seen Cheri actually think only a handful of times and the current pained expression was usually a good indicator. It was also pretty normal for what followed her thinking to be quite nonsensical and off topic.
“So I might not be the chubby one by the time this is done?” The pear-shaped Cheri pinched a small roll of flesh that hung over the waistband of Rachel’s shorts. “I might have to find out what they’re feeding you that’s finally gotten you blow up like this. I bet you’d look cute if I fattened you to about 200, maybe 250. My hips would look downright narrow next to you waddling around in an XXL sundress.”
“I don’t want to see you again until this is over.” Before Rachel exited the dingy restroom she turned and added, “And maybe not even then if you keep up this attitude.”
Last edited by Risible : 06-04-2008 at 07:45 PM.
|06-04-2008, 04:23 PM||#12|
Join Date: Feb 2007
The Start of the Investigation
Finally, after the long delayed trip to Georgia and weeks of quiet surveillance and research, Charles was ready to begin the real work. He hoped showing himself to Rachel would ruffle her feathers enough to panic and make a mistake. Up until now she had done nothing out of the ordinary and his patience and money was wearing thin trying to figure out her angle. She was definitely in this for the long haul, which made sense since after as many marriages as this Carrin had been in, a pre-nup was probably a given. The question was: what was Rachel planning? Health was one possibility, as the hefty Robert had put on weight faster than a bear preparing for hibernation, after tying the knot with Rachel.
After looking at Robert’s family history, however, Charles figured that might be a dead end. Robert came from a long line of immensely obese, rich people. With nary a heart attack in any of their medical jackets going back three generations, it was almost as if their hearts had adapted to pumping blood to bodies that carried three times the amount of weight they should.
With no answer for Rachel’s intention jumping out at him, Charles knew it was time to go to the next step.
It was easy to get into the mansion. Charles told the guard he was with Forbes magazine doing an article on Robert Carrin. The minimum wage earning guard was easy to convince and did not even question as to why Charles was visiting at a time when Robert was not at home. After the front gate Charles did not even see another guard. The housekeeper that met him at the door seemed suspicious at first and seemed to think he was there to fix the stove. But after a barrage of questions she seemed more than happy to leave him to wander the grounds without supervision, with only a warning to leave things as he found them.
Charles knew he had some time because he figured Rachel would be spooked enough by his surprise appearance to need to go cool off somewhere, maybe even go to see Cheri, who he knew was lurking around somewhere close by. His first course of action was to plant a few bugs in strategic locations for surveillance later. Next on his agenda: try and turn up anything he could use against Rachel.
There was not much to find around the mansion as any business or financial documents seemed to be kept elsewhere. There was also nothing Charles could find to implicate Rachel in anything unlawful. He had suspected as much. He knew Rachel was a professional and not one to leave evidence lying around. The mansion staff was not much help either. They all laughed off the revelation that their boss’s new wife might be a conniving gold digger, saying the last three wives were all like that.
After scouring the room that was his last hope, the office, and turning up only a well-used stack of pornographic magazines and a box of Cuban cigars, Naven figured he had better take off. Spooked or not, judging by Rachel’s current physique her jog would probably be a short one and she would be back at any minute.
During his speedy walk through the long halls of the mansion he came up behind a person he had not yet questioned. The round blonde was too well dressed and too generously stacked to be on the staff, but just as Charles quieted his footsteps to ascertain who he was approaching he noticed one of the young woman’s black leather boots were untied. Unfortunately her own massive bosom prevented her from noticing before she tripped on it and collapsed to her knees. The sudden jolt caused her monumental breasts to surge forward and their weight burst from the tight bra that contained them. The buttons on her form-fitting white blouse never stood a chance and in an instant the well-endowed blonde was on her knees, exposed.
Startled by the unexpected happening, Charles slipped out of his stealth detective mode and rushed to help the fallen lady. He quickly removed his beat-up denim jacket to cover her chest as he helped her back to her feet. Charles noticed she smelled like frosting and had incredibly soft, pampered skin.
After she was up and covered, Chelsea pulled away from the stranger, looking more confused and angry than hurt.
“Who are you, the new groundskeeper or something? You guys aren’t really supposed to be in the house.”
Struggling to keep his eyes averted from the abundant, barely covered assets, Charles could only manage to shake his head no.
“So what, you must be here to fix the stove?” Before Naven could answer for himself Chelsea seemed to confirm her guess on her own by nodding. “I should have known you weren’t on our staff, looking so scruffy and unprofessional. I’m Chelsea Carrin, my dad is paying your wages and I could have you fired for what just happened.”
Charles was immediately annoyed at himself for not doing his homework well enough to know Robert Carrin had a daughter, but he quickly tried to recover by fumbling for an excuse to stick around and possibly question her. Glancing down, he saw Chelsea’s left knee had a cut and a small trickle of blood was running down her shin.
“You’re bleeding. Let me at least help you get bandaged.”
Chelsea pawed past her rack to try and ascertain the damage. Her instinct should have been to recoil in horror upon the prospect of a common worker touching her anymore than he already had, but the man’s tone sounded sincere. On top of that he wasn’t half bad looking despite being at least five years older than her. His looks and charm were not enough to completely win her over, though.
“I’ll let you fix what you did, but if you try anything funny I’ll claw your eyes out.”
Charles should have been put off by the spoiled brat’s stereotypically rude behavior but somehow he was not. Perhaps he was too intent on stifling his arousal upon seeing the outline of a pair of boobs, the size of which before just now he had never dreamed could actually exist. Or maybe it was his fascination with watching her big backside bounce and sway beneath her tennis skirt. Whatever it was, when Chelsea sat down on a changing bench in a cavernous marble bathroom and leaned back to present her injured knee to him he had to really focus to remember what it was he was doing. While he rubbed alcohol on her cut his mind cleared enough to try and start Chelsea talking.
“I ran into your stepmother as she was on her way out. She seems like a very nice woman.”
Chelsea dismissed his comment with a snicker and a wave of her hand. “She was probably going out to spend more of Daddy’s money. Just like the rest of the gold-diggers.”
Before Charles could comment she continued, “Although I will admit she at least isn’t trying to get him to lose weight. He gets so grumpy then. At least this way he’s in a good mood, even if he does spend all his free time with her.”
“Really, she spends a lot of time with him?” Charles looked up from the freshly bandage knee to make eye contact but instead was met with a boob in the face as Chelsea leaned forward at the same time to try and see his handiwork. The silk fabric of the bathrobe she had put on to cover herself grazed his cheek.
“Sorry,” she sighed, sounding friendly for the first time. “Sometimes they have a mind of their own.”
“I can imagine.” Usually with boobs in his face, Charles could think of not much else, but hearing that Rachel was spending a lot of time with Robert perplexed him. She must be trying to lull him into a false sense of trust, he figured. He would definitely start the surveillance tonight.
“There you go, good as new.” Charles patted Chelsea’s thigh and the feel of her soft skin had him holding his hand on her leg a little longer than he should have. Glancing down, he was able to catch a quick glimpse up her short skirt from the angle he was at. Her thick thighs pressed together hid any shot of panty, but the dimpled gooseflesh on her inner leg from sitting on the cold marble had Charles’ eyes widening.
Chelsea barely noticed. The touch of a man’s strong hand, even if only to place a bandage, had her unconsciously biting her lip.
The two peered into each others' eyes for a split second before Charles caught himself and stood up abruptly.
“I better get going. The shop will start wondering where I am. I mean it doesn’t take all day to fix someone’s stove now does it?”
Chelsea grasped the robe that had slid slightly apart, held it tightly closed. “Whatever. I guess I won’t have you fired.”
(continued in post 15 of this thread)
Last edited by Observer : 06-05-2008 at 07:37 PM.
|06-05-2008, 04:02 AM||#13|
Join Date: Feb 2007
This is getting addictive now the strands are twisting together. The character building in your stories is always so beautifully varied.
“When I grow up,” she said, “I want my boobs to be as big as yours, daddy.”
|06-05-2008, 07:03 PM||#14|
Join Date: Feb 2007
I have a couple more chapters ready.
|06-05-2008, 07:10 PM||#15|
Join Date: Feb 2007
While Rachel had already spent a year of her life and risked being caught pretending to be something she was not, her partner, Cheri, had been busying herself throwing money away at a local strip club night afterr night until she was nearly too drunk to stagger home. The burly bouncer came over for the third time that evening as Chsrles was seeking her whereabouts to warn her about licking the topless dancers as they strutted by only to be flipped the bird with the hand that was not tossing shots of whiskey down.
It was not just in work ethic, in most ways Cheri Vaughn was totally a polar opposite to Rachel. While Rachel was very appearance obsessed and neat Cheri was a slob who did care a whit what people thought of her. Years of indulging her vices of drinking, smoking and overeating had given her a beer belly, yellow teeth and wide rear end. She flaunted what other people would consider imperfections in cut off concert t-shirts and short shorts that she tried to remember to wash monthly. She had more then a handful up top, but having never worn a bra had caused her knockers to sag and flatten out.
She had been so immersed in getting into contact with Rachel lately that she had even forgotten showering, so a strong smell of beer, Chinese takeout and cheap cigarettes emanated from the burly brunette. Despite all of this, she had a very strong sensuality about her as well as being incredibly easy, so she never wanted for either male or female attention.
With a fistful of ones she remained popular at the rundown topless bar. She typically stuffed bills into the panties of the haggard looking dancers until she was finally tossed out for pawing at the poorly waxed beavers one too many times.
She staggered back to the seedy motel and fumbled with the sticky lock until she thought she might just pass out right there. She finally pushed open the door after she realized it had been unlocked and lumbered over to the nightstand where a half eaten pizza sat in a puddle of congealed grease. She had a piece and a half stuffed into her pudgy cheeks before she realized she was not alone.
“Cheese pizza?” Charles said from his spot on a ragged chair in the corner. “What does Rachel have you on some kind of health kick?”
Startled for just a moment Cheri went back to munching on her day old pie.
Through greasy lips she hissed, “Don’t even try to scare me with that act. I knew what it takes to get by you.”
With a pizza sauce covered hand she grabbed her crotch emphatically.
Charles was silent. Seeing the portly con artist again sent him into flashbacks of the last time they had met:
He had been a rookie cop working with a detective to crack a series of cons in the area. Combing the streets had turned up a description of a woman who he had recently seen in the paper for marrying a well known music producer after only knowing him for a few weeks.Cheri’s deep voice broke Charles out of his trance, “What do you say, Chucky? Once for old time shake?”
She turned her fleshy backside to him and slapped the back of her fraying denim shorts.
“Not a chance, tramp.” Charles stood up and slowly approached Cheri.
Not to be intimidated Cheri met him in the middle of the room. Being a tall woman she was almost able to look the six footer in the eye.
“I just wanted to give you the chance to walk away,” he said.
Cheri looked confused.
“Rachel is in too deep but you, if you just disappear you can start over. My client’s not interested in seeing you go down.”
“Your client? When do pigs have clients?” Cheri huffed.
“Don’t act like you haven’t talked to Rachel. I’m on my own now working for Alex. The man your partner tried to seduce out of millions of dollars.”
Cheri scowled and leaned in, brushing her nose against Charles’ chin. “If you must know that witch broke up with me over a year ago.”
With Cheri this close to him her strong smell and the feeling of her soft body leaning against his, Charles felt himself almost being transported in time back to his naïve rookie days when he was overcome by the criminal’s overt sexuality.
“When I found out she married some sausage and moved out to the suburbs I decided to confront her.”
As she lied Cheri could sense the former cop’s dick hardening against her crotch. She licked her lips and continued, “She’s claims she’s over me but that doesn’t mean I have to give up now, does it?”
Her gruff voice was becoming a raspy whisper. She slowly started grinding her hips into his. She was not sure what would be accomplished by toying with this guy but she was enjoying the sense of power too much to stop. “I mean stalking an ex isn’t a crime now is it.”
After a long pause, “Actually…”
Charles had given up trying to figure out why this woman was kryptonite to him even with the trickle of pizza sauce down her chin. He tried desperately to make his body move to the door but then he saw the sauce covered lips lean in to kiss him and he froze.
The kiss started out one sided but that didn’t last long. Two years of pent up sexual tension flooded out of Charles in a wave that had him roughly pushing Cheri to the creaky bed after the long, deeply intimate kiss. As she tumbled backward onto the bed Charles held her tattered t-shirt that easily ripped off her torso. Her flabby breasts wobbled like Jell-O around her chest before settling into sweaty puddles of flesh in the crooks of her arms.
Charles pounced on her like an animal, mauling her mameries with wild abandon. He felt completely in charge of the situation. That was until he felt Cheri’s doughy body shake violently. For a split he wondered if he had brought her to climax simply by tonguing her nipples, but then he heard the laughing. She was cackling wildly knowing full well she was the one in control; even flat on her back topless, she had the power.
Charles jumped to his feet and wiped his mouth as if he had just tasted sour milk.
“What’s the matter, officer? Got a headache?” Cheri squeaked innocently.
“If you’re lying to me about what’s going on here. I’ll find out.”
Cheri resumed her cackling and continued even as Charles cautiously backed his way to the door. After he slammed it behind him the still drunk Cheri, breasts slightly reddened from the detective’s sucking, rolled over and grabbed another pizza slice off the night stand.
Thirty feet away in his car Charles stuffed three pieces of gum in his mouth and turned on the listening device that was tuned to the bug he had put in Cheri’s room before she got home.
"That could have gone better." he thought.
Last edited by Observer : 06-05-2008 at 07:38 PM.
|06-05-2008, 07:31 PM||#16|
Join Date: Feb 2007
A week after his less then successful encounter with Cheri, Charles sat in his car outside the Carrin mansion listening intently to the live audio of the bugs he had placed inside. He had found what he thought was an inconspicuous place on the back corner of the house where he could see through the iron security fencing, past the well manicured landscaping and into the windows along two sides of the house.
At first Charles had been pretty proud of himself, not only for finding a good stakeout spot but also for being able to plant the listening pieces and figuring out the high-tech gizmo that picked up the signals so he could hear.
Almost like a real private investigator. He thought to himself after finishing his fourth beer out the twelve-pack that lay at his feet and tossing the empty can in the back seat.
True enough Naven was not a professional investigator. He was not working for the jilted producer who Rachel and Cheri had duped. He was not even a police officer any more.
After his inexperience and inability to control his libido had cost him the girls’ arrest and his clothes and car Charles had become quite obsessed with the fugitive duo. He had spent all his free time after they had disappeared trying to track them down. Eventually he spent so much time on his personal quest he was let go from the force.
Admittedly his do-it-yourself investigating was not going all that well. The dumber of the two girls had already proved she could still out fox him and after a week of spying he had turned up next to nothing.
The only thing useful he had gotten out of listening in to Rachel and Robert’s conversations was her laying the groundwork for taking over the business to, in her words, “take stress off my sugar bear.” Ninety percent of the time what he heard was their sexual experimentations with positions that pleasured them both without injuring Robert or crushing Rachel. Or he heard mealtime, which was happening more often in bed then in the kitchen and most often led into more of the other activity. Neither sound was easy on the ears as one was a symphony of grunts, groans, pops, creaks and slurping and the other was, well more of the same only without food.
The only thing out of the ordinary that had happened in the last week was the couple’s move from the master bedroom, located upstairs, out to the guesthouse, which was all on one level and was conveniently located close to the hot tub that was now the only place suitable to bathe the robust Robert.
Finding himself bored with his intended targets for snooping Charles quickly found his attention shifting to the other Carrin. During the day the buxom spitfire would whine or shout orders at the help. Oddly enough, Charles was beginning to find the girl endearing in a very unexplainable way. At night however the young woman who had not left the house since Charles had been watching sounded as if she pleasured herself to sleep. This Charles also found endearing but this was conversely very explainable.
It was not all soft core porn. Charles got to hear the staff talk about Chelsea, who because of her grating personality was discussed far more often then Robert or Rachel. The men all seemed to take out their frustration with her spoiled nature by telling each other what they would do if the ever got the opportunity to make out with her or taking bets on her bra size.
The women were more catty having cruel names they called her by behind her back. The ones who had been around a while would remember back to how scrawny and good natured she was before her early onset of puberty. One maid in particular, Mary, theorized Chelsea’s unusually early and unusually generous development was the cause for her attitude. She made a good point about how a girl with breasts before age ten was exposed to a lot more cruel and lewd behavior at an age when most girls did not have to be concerned with gawking, overly touchy creepy men at all.
Mary also acted as a strong mother figure to the girl who was pretty much parentless. She was not above being entertained by Chelsea’s naïve behavior but she helped in ways that were very kind. Although some of her mothering also could be qualified as enabling as Mary seemed to all too willing to bring a constant stream of snacks to the girl so she did not have to get up from the couch during "American Idol".
Monitoring Cheri was far easier for Charles seeing as instead of a secured estate to try and peer at he had only need park across the street from the motel to have a clear view into the large picture window that Cheri was usually too drunk to remember to pull the blinds on.
Not that he particularly cared to see as during his first week of spying he witnessed her sleep with just about everyone within a five mile radius. Gas station attendants, bartenders and dancers from the club she frequented all got a turn. Even the bouncer that kicked her out a few nights earlier was given a ride by Cheri. Just about every piece of furniture in the room got destroyed during the course of the shenanigans that took place. It was of no consequence as the motel’s manager, assistant manager and most of the housekeeping staff had their part in splintering the bed and obliterating the chairs inside.
True to form Cheri had yet to use the coin operated laundry room next door and Charles heard her run the shower only twice.
The one useful piece of information he turned up was a recurring phone call that happen at the same time every day he was staking out Cheri’s place. The conversation was usually short and Cheri’s end of it was often monosyllabic but Charles did hear say, “I know he’s here, but I can handle him. Don’t worry.” Which he was sure was a reference to himself. He also heard many references to accounts and investments as well Swiss bank accounts that Cheri seemed to know absolutely nothing about.
The breakthrough was a moral victory as best. It proved to Charles the girls were up to something but aside from that he was able to get no information he could act on. Which meant he had to continue watching and listening. After beer number five and listening to Rachel compel Robert to help her polish off the last gallon of frozen custard Charles was about to switch the stations on his listening device to pick up Chelsea’s room when the passenger door to his car opened and in jumped the woman herself.
“Back to fix the stove again?” She said mockingly. Immediately after sitting down in the passenger seat Chelsea had to adjust the seat back considerably to allow space between her chest and the dashboard. The action caused the shirt she was wearing to rise up and reveal a sizable belly bulge that was fighting against the waist of her jeans. She tunneled her hands beneath her boobs to adjust her pants down. Her forearms disappearing under her ta-tas had Charles’ mind flashing briefly back to his high school days when all the barely blossoming girls in his class all would brag to each about being able to hold more pencils beneath their burgeoning breasts then the others.
We have a winner. Charles thought to himself.
Charles’ eyes moved upwards and the thin fabric of the shirt made it very easy to tell Chelsea was not wearing a bra. Her nipples popped through like ripe cherries on top of mountains of creamy ice cream.
She saw him gawking and moved her hands up from her oozing waistline to fruitlessly try and cup her melons.
“One of the consequences of being very well endowed, I’m afraid, is that once a month these puppies swell up something fierce and make my bras feel like straight jackets.”
The jostling belly and boob flesh coupled with her sweet smell that tonight was chocolaty had Charles salivating almost instantly.
“How did you know I was out here?” was all he could manage.
“Oh come on.” She shot back. “You private dicks are all the same. Every one of you has used this same spot.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I should have known you were a detective. It doesn’t take daddy long to get jealous.”
Charles thought he followed along with her thinking but he asked anyway. “What makes you so sure your dad hired me?”
“Ever since he caught wife number two in the greenhouse with the air conditioning repairman my daddy had been very paranoid. He’s gotten detectives to follow around wives three, four and five.”
“You seem pretty confident. I could be some creep stalking you.” Charles grinned playfully.
Chelsea rolled her eyes, “You’re far too good looking to be a psychopath. What’s your name?”
Naven’s playful expression vanished. “Um, thanks, I’m Charles, but I’m not sure looks is a good barometer to use for getting into cars with strange men.
“Well I was bored so even if you’re a weirdo at least it will pass the time.” She continued to futz with her pants. Both the fact that she could not see what she was doing beneath her bosom and the fact that the pants were at least a size too small were working against her getting comfortable.
“That surprises me. A woman with your obvious charms would seem to me to be one who would have to juggle multiple dates a night.” Charles said drolly.
She eyed him carefully trying to determine just how sarcastic he was being and then answered, “A girl like me has got to be careful who she dates. With my money and looks guys can get pretty obsessive. My last boyfriend constantly told me I tasted like syrup and felt like silk.”
The detective took a hard swallow on his beer and tried to force the image of him tasting and feeling Chelsea out of his mind.
“What about you?”
Charles snapped out of trance. “Huh?”
“You’re not terrible looking. What are you doing spending evenings sitting by yourself in a car?”
His mind flashed back to Lisa. “It’s just a good time in my life to be single and concentrate on me.”
“Amen to that.” Suddenly Chelsea leaned over Charles’ lap and pulled a beer out of the case. Her unsupported breasts rested heavily on his thigh as she did. Her neckline from that position allowed him to look down what appeared to be an endless line of cleavage. She poked her head down directly between his knees to look at what she was grabbing. She pulled up a dripping wet can and popped it open with her long red nails right over his tenting crotch.
“How old are you?” Naven asked, wide eyed.
“Relax, Chuck” Chelsea pushed the can between his thighs, brushing his erect rod as she did. She raised her head up to look Charles in the eyes and slowly brought her hand to her lips to lick off droplets of beer that had splattered on her hand.
“You looked thirsty is all.”
The pair stared into each others eyes for a few moments. Both trying to decide what to do next when the speaker crackled and Rachel and Robert’s voices filled the car.
“Sounds like I better let you get back to work.”
Chelsea used Charles thigh to push herself back over into the passenger seat and then paused. “If you want a better view of the house pull up about thirty feet and check out the window all the way over to the right on the third floor.”
Naven knew that was her room. He had admired her silhouette a few times already.
“The blinds sometimes get left open,” she grinned devilishly. “Or at least they will now.”
Absolutely no surveillance got done on Rachel the rest of the night.
Last edited by Observer : 06-05-2008 at 07:49 PM.
|06-15-2008, 11:45 AM||#18|
Join Date: Feb 2007
(1 year 4 months after the wedding)
In her hands Rachel held the combination to a safe in Robert’s downtown office that contained all the access information to all the real estate and investments that made up the non-liquid part of Robert Carrin’s assets.
Basically she was holding the key to billions of dollars in her hand. Even more incomprehensible then that to her was that she felt she might have true feelings for Robert. Beyond even that was the fact that her true feelings for the man she was trying to con were taking precedence in her mind over the unfathomable amount of money.
Robert had finally notified his people at the office that he would be in considerably less and given her the codes not because he had eaten himself immobile but rather because he confided in her that he trusted her now and felt she would do right by him being his presence at work.
It had almost made her cry to hear him say that to her. Of course she took it with a grain of salt because while Robert was still mobile on his own he was about as helpless as a man could be.
As he had continued to pack on weight at an unbelievable pace, the bulk of that weight accumulated in his upper half. As a result his arms were so laden with fat he could barely lift them out in front of him much less bend them at his buried-in-fat elbows. Scratching his nose took more effort then the very out of shape man had in him.
His joints were taking a beating as well. His slow shuffling movement was always accompanied by the clicking and clacking of his knees and ankles as they were slammed together by the billionaire’s immense heft. Standing still was no good either as his legs quickly lost feeling from the weighty belly apron cutting off circulation.
Being heavier then he had ever been in his life had Robert starting to become slightly self conscious about his appearance for the first time in his life. He had been burdened with a prominent set of man-boobs since he had passed the 250 pound mark back in high school, but now as he was well past double that now paltry seeming size his chest had developed into a mass unto its own.
It was the one part of his body that refused to sag; in fact his breasts remained quite perky and preceded the rest of him into a room by a good foot. No custom dress shirt made could hope to downplay the fact that his nipples pointed straight out in front of him and his cumbersome arms were incapable of helping to hide them. In fact when he held his arms straight he only managed to create a deep line of cleavage.
I guess we know where his daughter gets it from. Was a phrase he often overheard at work.
Rachel was well aware of her man’s physical problems and self image issues and tried to help in any way she could except for limiting his food intake. She rubbed his swollen feet at the end of a long day and massaged sore joints, applied cream when needed. She propped him up on pillows when he got into bed and made sure his lard filled pectorals that would often slid off the sides of his mountainous torso were also supported by pillows placed between his arms and body. This was so the skin on his chest would not pull taut or that the weight of his breasts would not numb his arms.
It was most likely the fact that Robert was needing her more and more that was causing feelings in Rachel. He was dependant on her and now for the first time in her life she had a purpose.
She still filled him up like he had not eaten for weeks at every meal but the ritual had morphed from a carefully laid out plan to a shared passion. Robert’s unhealthy love of gorging himself until his body could hold no more had rubbed off on her. The unavoidable result was that Rachel had quickly blossomed from porky to out and out fat.
Genetics had given the fuller figured Rachel a very unique shape. Almost all of her added weight went to her belly and butt. At first glance she would appear to be six months along with child since her belly stuck out prominently in front of her. Her backside expanded outward and downward behind her. Her out of the ordinary form caused clothes to fit her very snuggly. Even sweatpants slid underneath her belly and always exposed a fair amount of her ass. Her face had filled out to a very round cherubic looking one that was a far cry from the high cheek boned aerobic instructor from over a year prior.
In the bedroom however she seldom wore clothes and as she stood there next to the bed looking at the six digit combination and weighed financial freedom and loyalty to her partner since childhood against being needed by a man who loved her and believed she loved him, her round, naked form was stirring feelings of another kind in her husband. He stuck out his arm and rested a hefty hand on Rachel’s bulging hip.
“Feeling up for a little roll in the hay, darling?” He whispered.
“Oh, sugar bear.” Rachel squeaked, startled by his touch. “Are you sure you’re up for it.”
She patted his taut belly that was packed full of food. “Maybe we should let breakfast settle first.”
Robert let out a low grunt followed by a long sigh. It was not clear what he was trying to move but whatever it was it did not happen.
“Maybe we should just snuggle for a while,” he admitted.
“You know I’m always up for that.” Rachel set the combination down and hopped into bed next to her man. The safe had waited sixteen months for her it would wait another day.
Rachel’s own overstuffed belly pressed against Robert’s rolls as she snuggled into his massive torso. With her tanned skin long since faded to a pale hue her body seemed to melt into Robert’s own pale complexion as the two became one on their heavily reinforced bed.
Last edited by Observer : 06-15-2008 at 12:08 PM.
|06-15-2008, 11:57 AM||#19|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Charles heard none of the transaction between Rachel and Robert from his surveillance post. In fact for a better part of the last few months the time he spent at the mansion was spent with Chelsea. She had continued for a while to alleviate boredom by sitting out in his car with him but after a time she grew tired of running all the way outside to talk.
The time spent talking and flirting with him had made her comfortable enough to invite him in to hang out in the main house’s recreation room. It was not long after that they moved in to Chelsea’s bedroom. Not for the reason you might think, however. While their flirting became quite blatant and eventually progressed into overly friendly touching in the form of hands resting on legs or forearms glancing past breasts, the sexual tension remained just that; tension.
The move to Chelsea’s room was mostly because her room would be better described as a stand alone condo. It was the size of a soccer field with a master bath that would dwarf a lot of average size living rooms. A full kitchen ran the length of one of the walls.
Upon seeing Chelsea’s very own kitchen her plus sized body started to make more sense to Charles. It was fully stocked with all of her favorite snacks and was replenished not when supplies got low but anytime anything was removed, even if it was not completely finished, the next time Chelsea came in to the room the item would without fail be replaced with a new one.
Since her favorite snacks were chocolate chip cookies and Mars bars Charles began to think it was amazing she was not quite a bit bigger then she was. The former police officer had always appreciated a fuller form and sure enough with the attention of a man who encouraged her already flourishing appetite Chelsea ripened and softened at an even quicker rate then she had.
Naven’s listening equipment was set up in an inconspicuous corner but once conversation and flirting got started between him and Chelsea it was pretty much just background noise.
The visits were not all for naught through. Chelsea’s social skills and confidence in herself had improved by spending time with a man who seemed to really be into her and was also not the type to take any of her attitude. The result had been her getting out more and even to the point where on this day when her father was giving away the combination to the family fortune she was preparing for a date. A date that Charles had mixed feeling about. He was being somewhat standoffish about the whole thing, preferring to make “Satin angels” on her bed instead of help her in her enormous closet as she stressed about what to wear.
“I’m being serious now, Chuck. What should I wear?” She called out to him as she scoured through her racks and rack of clothes wearing nothing but her bra and a pair of tight jeans.
“Well that depends. Who is this guy and where did you meet him?”
“I told you. I met him in the bookstore. I think he said he was going to school to be a doctor.” She stepped out of the closet holding a green rugby shirt.
“So what do you think, something casual?” She held the shirt in front of her for a second and then pulled it away. The tight jeans and extra supportive bra were creating a very large amount of bulging in her midsection. It looked like a large gooey muffin top as the belt of her pants squeezed from below and the snug band of the bra cinched tightly above. It was very obvious to everyone except her that despite her blossoming confidence her habit of constantly snacking passed on to her from her dad was still causing her to pack on the pounds.
More padding had not made her any less attractive to Charles who was unknowingly experiencing a tinge of jealousy as she prepared for her date.
“Just don’t wear what you usually wear.” He said continuing to flail his arms around on her fluffy, pink comforter.
Chelsea shot him a piercing stare and dropped the rugby shirt.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, walking toward him.
“I’m just saying. You don’t want to send the wrong message. That’s all.”
“Are you saying I dress like I’m easy?” She inquired. She sauntered over to the bedside and looked down her nose at Charles.
The fake private investigator shrugged and avoided eye contact.
Chelsea climbed onto the large bed and straddled Naven’s legs.
“So you don’t think I should do something like this on a first date?” She leaned forward to gently run her index finger over the belt buckle of Charles’ jeans. When she did her tightly packed flesh orbs threatened to pop out of their containment.
Charles still was not making eye contact but now Chelsea had his attention.
“Maybe save this move for the second date.” He offered.
“The second date.” Chelsea cooed, “Really? Because you know this usually leads to this,” She slowly walked her index and middle finger up Naven’s stomach, pausing briefly to trace the outline of the abdominal muscles that were there by heredity and not because he did any real working out. She continued her hand moving upward following her hand with her bust that was now half out of the bra. She ended with her finger gently rubbing his lower lip. She teased as if her left breast was to follow but at the last instant she switched her half exposed nipple with her own lips and gave him a quick, closed mouth peck with her eyes shut.
A stunned Charles could only lay frozen with wide eyes as her large bust and wide belly engulfed his torso while she pulled herself closer to him during the peck.
Just as fast as it happed it ended. Chelsea’s eyes shot open as if she had been electrocuted and she dismounted Charles as fast as she could. She tugged at her bra all the way back to the safety of her walk in closet.
“Did I do something wrong?” a flabbergasted Charles asked.
There was a long silence while Chelsea struggled with what she should say and Naven struggled with what he should do. In the background he could here a very emotional sounding conversation between Rachel and Robert but there could have been a fire in the room and Charles would not have turned his attention from what was going on.
Chelsea’s voice was soft and shaky as it echoed from her closet. “Did you ever have something you wanted to tell someone but you worry that the window for what you want to say might be closing fast?”
Charles answered honestly, “No, Chels, I can’t say that I have. But if you have something to say you know you can always tell me.”
After a few minutes a teary eyed Chelsea emerged. Charles sat up and motioned for her to sit by him. Once in his arms Chelsea whispered, “Please listen closely because I don’t think I’ll be able to say this again.”
(Continued in post 23 on page 2 of this thread)
Last edited by Observer : 06-21-2008 at 03:45 PM.
|06-16-2008, 01:51 PM||#20|
Divine Sith Lord
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: A Galaxy Far, Far Away....
Haha, had to stop on a cliff hanger? Every scene I want there to be more!
|06-21-2008, 01:03 PM||#23|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Do or Die
Rachel sat behind Robert’s desk feeling as if she was about to explode. In addition to developing a habit of eating for pleasure she had also developed the habit of eating when she was nervous. The last two days that habit had kicked into overdrive. She had cleaned out the office fridge of pudding cups and cookie dough. The desk drawers that had been stuffed full of candy bars and bags of chips now held only crumbs. The cheap pantsuit Rachel had bought from a plus-size shop just to have something to wear to the office now felt like it was trying to squeeze the life out of her.
The other thing in the office that was empty was the small wall safe. The folders containing access and account numbers for safe deposit boxes, stock portfolios and real estate lay scattered across the desk. Rachel sat with the computer one enter button click away from being logged onto the site that could make all those accounts disappear into an untraceable location that could be accessed only by her and Cheri.
Of course it would not happen as instantaneously as a button push. Hitting the enter key would simply give Rachel’s trusted fence the information he needed to make things happen. He had promised three days to make Robert’s wealth become Cheri’s and Rachel’s. For Rachel, however, that button push meant everything. It meant she had made her decision. That’s why it had taken her two plus days since she had gotten the combination just to get this far.
For a time she sat with her finger perched over the enter key, positive she should do it and grant her and Cheri financial freedom after a lifetime of being abandoned and discarded by society. For an equal amount of time she stood on the other side of the room from the computer thinking she would be crazy to follow through with her plan to ruin the only man who had ever treated her like a human being.
She was halfway between the computer and the far wall when there was a knock on the door. “Ma’am? Your pizzas are here.”
Two large deep dish sausage and pepperoni pizzas with extra cheese later, Rachel sat in front of the computer with her slacks pulled down below her extremely distended gut and slammed her finger down on the enter key with tears welling up in her eyes.
A Hiccup in the Plan
Cheri was just looking for clothes to put on when Rachel arrived. The first pair of shorts she picked up off the ground smelled like they had been worn one too many times without washing so she dropped them back down. The second pair was too small for her to pull up past her jutting hips. She reminded herself she was going to have to go back to the thrift shop and get the next size up. The third pair she managed to tug up past her hips although buttoning was an impossibility. She had not yet found a shirt when Rachel burst through the door.
“He moved all his assets!” A very bloated and flustered looking Rachel screamed.
Cheri seemed unfazed as she sniffed at a black t-shirt she pulled from behind the busted headboard. “What do you mean?” she asked calmly.
“I went to move all his assets and none of it was where it was supposed to be. It’s all been moved already. He must have lied when he said he trusted me.” Rachel sounded hurt by this, but she was also frantic, flailing one arm wildly while holding her busted polyester pants from falling down with her other.
Cheri slowly walked over to her and gently stroked Rachel’s frizzy hair. “Don’t worry, baby. Your water buffalo of a man still trusts you. It’s me that doesn’t.”
Across the room the bathroom door opened up and out stepped Chelsea. She was dripping wet and struggling to keep an undersized motel towel around her ever shifting bosom.
“I got everything weeks ago. Little Chelsea here had all the information that it took you forever to get. In a couple more days the fence will have his part done, all the paperwork will be complete and Chelsea and I can start enjoying all that money.” Cheri beamed.
Looking even more frantic Rachel pushed Cheri’s hand away and pointed at the unexpected guest. “What are you talking about? What is she doing here?”
Cheri shook her head. “I sensed you were getting cold feet so I talked to someone who had a definite reason to want to see Robbie get screwed.”
“Daddy will be sorry he never came to any of my birthdays or my graduation now,” Chelsea snickered. “You can have him, tramp, we’ll take the money.” The portly girl moved around the bed toward Cheri who responded to her presence by forcefully yanking the towel away from her, leaving her overly ripe, damp body exposed.
“I get the money and all of this to boot.” Cheri reached out and grabbed a handful of Chelsea’s boobs and shook it. “I think I came out pretty well.”
Chelsea smiled nervously at the compliment while at the same time trying to cover what she could of her rippling anatomy. All the progress she had made in her attitude over the last few weeks had apparently been traded in for a chance to get back at her estranged father.
“Her rack worked well to keep your little detective occupied while I transferred the funds to a new account. He was putty in her hands minutes after meeting her. The cops should be picking him up for trespassing any minute now. After Melons here ‘confided’ in him that she had feelings for him, he was all too willing to agree to sneak in past security to meet her in hopes of getting into her pants,” Cheri snickered.
Rachel remained too angry to even move. Cheri eyed the naked Chelsea like a dog eyeing a raw steak.
“Once I saw how good you were looking getting fat I realized what I was missing out on by boffing a flat-chested bean pole all these years.” Again the scuzzy two-timer reached out to Chelsea, this time slapping her sagging belly. “I think I can have some real fun with this one. She eats like her dad. With a little spoiling and pampering she’ll be looking like him more and more.”
Chelsea looked confused but stood her ground, leaning in and playfully nibbling Cheri’s own exposed nipple.
“Lower,” Cheri commanded without hesitation. As her obedient young plaything dropped to her knees Cheri turned back to the fuming Rachel. “Don’t worry. You and your hubby aren’t completely broke. Booby and I couldn’t very well take what was in Robbie’s regularly accessed bank accounts without anyone noticing.” She paused for a deep sigh as Chelsea had pushed through her fatty thighs with her tongue to hit her spot just right. “You guys still have a few million left, plus her trust fund. She’s obviously obese, but you might want to tell your sugar daddy to invest it wisely or else at your current lifestyle that won’t last long.”
“You bitch, I can’t believe you’d do this,” Rachel hissed. Her mind was quickly working past the betrayal of her longtime partner and realizing her initial fear of her Robbie not trusting her was very far from the truth. Despite the unexpected happenings she was quite relieved about that.
Cheri rolled her eyes. “I guess you just don’t know me as well as you thought. And don’t think of trying to go to the police or a copy of your record will mysteriously find its way into your loving hubby’s hands.”
“No!” Rachel protested.
“I’m sure after having a glimpse into your past your bags will hit the street shortly after.” A familiar loud cackle followed her threat.
“I promise I won’t go to the cops. Take the money and go. Just leave us alone.” Rachel backed her way toward the door.
“What a sap. You were never cut out for this life anyway. I carried you your whole life,” Cheri called after her. She was starting to sweat as a result of Chelsea’s nimble tongue. She reached down and roughly kneaded gobs of boob flesh that were slapping against her knees. Chelsea gave a soft whimper but continued munching her aggressive new girlfriend.
Rachel turned and left her former lifelong friend for the last time, partly devastated about how quickly things had turned around on her but more relieved things were over.
Last edited by Risible : 06-21-2008 at 02:17 PM.
|06-21-2008, 01:12 PM||#24|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Mr. and Mrs. Carrin
Robert had been much less riled than Rachel had expected about losing eighty percent of his fortune. Rachel told him the complete truth up until the part where she was supposed to admit involvement. That she fudged on a little. He appeared to be most saddened by his daughter’s involvement and apparent departure. He confessed to Rachel her attitude was his fault for not being an ideal father. After that admission he simply set out to rebuild what he had lost. He was right to be calm, as he had not become a billionaire by chance. He was a master at the real estate and investment game and after a few late nights and a couple favors from friends cashed in, he was on his way to triple what Cheri and his daughter had left him in less then a year.
Other than the slightly increased workload, the happy couple’s lives remained virtually unchanged after the fallout. They were very much creatures of habit and within weeks of Chelsea’s abrupt departure the Carrins’ life went back to normal. They had to adjust a tad as Robert’s weight continued to increase; their intimate time turned more into Rachel caring for the increasingly dependent man. He simply kept loving food long after he could no longer bring his hands up to his mouth to feed himself.
Rachel loved the feeling of being needed by him almost as much as she loved to gorge herself with him until both were too stuffed and exhausted to move. Her weight continued to skyrocket with the results continuing to manifest itself in her belly and butt. Her cheeks sagged down to touch the back of her knees, looking like sacks of lumpy oatmeal. Her gut soon collapsed under its own weight and resembled an impressive apron far more than it did a pregnant belly.
Rachel had long since turned in her preconceived notions about appearance for acceptance of her ballooning figure as a side effect of her happy relationship, but there were times she wondered if there was another reason behind her sometimes insatiable hunger that seemed to be growing more and more intense.
After a long session of massaging Robert’s globular legs to help his circulation Rachel was pouring with sweat and felt hungry enough to empty out the fridge despite being less than an hour from having eaten supper. Almost as if on cue there was a knock on the door and standing behind it was longtime maid Mary Munoz, smiling broadly and holding an enormous platter piled high with hot and steamy Mexican food.
“I thought you and Mister Carrin might enjoy some of my homemade cooking. I made way too much,” Mary explained.
Rachel’s mouth instantly began watering and she snatched a burrito and crammed it in her mouth before making a move to accept the heavy platter. “It’s like you can read my mind,” she said through a mouthful of beef and rice.
Mary watched closely as Rachel turned with the platter and waddled away. She could see the sweatpants the hefty rich woman had on were hugging the wide load of her ass a little tighter than when she wore the same pants last week. It was not something a person would notice in casual observation but if a person were specifically monitoring for just that kind of thing…
If that stupid gold-digger thinks she can just drive apart a father and daughter and not think that there will be consequences, she’s got another thing coming. Mary thought to herself as she watched Rachel race to finish two more of the greasy, extra cheesy, appetite stimulant loaded burritos before she even made it back to Robert’s side. I better hurry up with some “extra” dessert.
Last edited by Risible : 06-21-2008 at 02:20 PM.
|06-21-2008, 01:34 PM||#25|
Join Date: Feb 2007
Cheri and Chelsea
For being a low-class girl from meager beginnings, Cheri certainly knew how to live high on the hog. She used Chelsea’s clean name to buy ownership of an exotic, secluded resort where she took up residence in the largest most extravagant place on the grounds. Chelsea got set up in the slightly lesser in size but none less indulgent place on the other side of the small island. The separate places seemed excessive at first as they spent most of their time together in the lusty throws of passion or simply laying around being pampered by their staff.
It was not long before their lifestyles started showing a distinct difference.
Cheri certainly made good on her promise to keep Chelsea overfed. The chesty young woman was barraged with rich decadent meals that flowed into one another interrupted only by the mind-blowing sex that comes from being pleasured by someone that knows how to do it right. There were days, even weeks where Chelsea did not leave the bed except to shower or use the restroom.
So overcome with a sense of vindication as a result of sticking it to her father and overwhelmed by her extraordinarily decadent lifestyle that Chelsea did not notice Cheri’s devilish grin as her body widened quite rapidly. It was not until she was popping out of all her clothes that she realized there was a consequence for her gluttony. By that time it was too late for her to try and resist, Cheri had her right where she wanted her. It was the sense of power Cheri got from exploiting her partner’s lack of willpower that fueled her relentlessness in studying her lover’s habits and preferences until she made Chelsea’s waistline a victim of her own desire for sweets and baked goods. The growing girl could only resist the cakes and rolls that were constantly around for so long before plowing through a weeks worth of calories in one sitting and then looking up at Cheri with her big eyes and wonder aloud, “Are you trying to make me as big as my dad?”
“That little guy,” Cheri would chuckle. “I just like to keep my women fat and happy.” She would then jiggle Chelsea’s blubbery body until it was a rippling mass of waves. “And I must say I think I’m doing a bang up job.”
The power rush was a huge thing for Cheri. The feeling was almost better than sex for her. It continued beyond merely playing to Chelsea’s collapsing willpower. She bought no more clothes for her submissive girlfriend after she outgrew the ones she had. Blubbery Chelsea had only one mercilessly tight thong and what used to be a baggy t-shirt before she caught onto what was happening. By that time she was too lazy to be bothered much by being relegated to her lavish pad. The main reason Cheri kept her naked and housebound was because she used Chelsea’s name on all the paperwork when they bought the resort. In case things went bad there would be no paper trace of her at all and keeping Chelsea on a short leash seemed the safe thing to do. She figured the ditz did not even realize the power she had with everything being in her name but why risk it.
There was also a very sexually charged pleasure Cheri got from watching Chelsea’s now quite prominent belly fight for space in her lap with her outrageously heavy breasts when she was seated. Her shoulders hunched over from the weight of her chest making her look shorter and wider than she was. Watching her stand with her hands pressed firmly into her love handles to offset the balance of her chest as well as her jiggling and gyrating flesh when she waddled around the house with nothing to support her udders nearly brought Cheri to climax.
In Cheri’s mind she had created a food and sex-aholic who was content to lie in front of the television if she not receiving either one. And for that reason their island resort lives differed greatly.
Cheri was too much of a free spirit to be lounging around a bungalow all day, even if it was to watch her beautifully obese girlfriend eat on command. So not long after Chelsea was relegated to being housebound due to lack of clothes Cheri began to explore the island.
The locals were good for some specially made drinks and hand rolled “cigarettes” and they all seemed to put Americans on a pedestal, so just about everywhere she went she was given preferential treatment and that fed even more into her sense of power.
She looked nothing like the Cheri from back in the states. Being a billionaire she was able to hire people to do all the things she usually opted not to; laundry and personal hygiene were taken care of by women who were happy to do it for the money Cheri would toss their way afterwards. She had a different one for shaving her legs then she did for plucking her eyebrows. Cleaned up, Cheri was even more attractive than when she was a slob. She resembled a plus-sized Madonna. The plus-size part of that got even more plus as time went by and she continued to enjoy time with the always eating Chelsea or the munchies that came with certain versions of the islanders’ homemade “cigarettes”. Her ass became an island almost unto itself and her breasts plumped up as well giving her a very mouthwatering hourglass shape that allowed her to have her pick of any man on the island and a lot of the women. Some old habits are hard to break.
While one might think that Chelsea would have felt deserted with the woman that helped her betray her father spending time with others so often. In fact it was quite the opposite. The time left alone was very welcome by Chelsea. She had good reason to put up with being treated like an over inflated sex toy.
Charles Naven – The End
Charles put on quite the act when the officers arrived to escort him from the mansion. He wanted to make sure he came across surprised and angry so any of the mansion staff that saw him would be sure to tell Rachel when she asked. As the police hauled Charles out of the mansion and stuffed him into the back of the patrol car, he contemplated the way he was leaving things with Rachel. He could not really call her apparently happy marriage to a man so rich he was still a millionaire after be swindled out of billions in stock and real estate a good revenge. He had, however, accomplished what he set out to do which was split up Rachel and Cheri. Now that the brains of the pair was out of the picture he could focus his attention who he was really wanting to get even with. He was done chasing Rachel.
Naven was in and out of the police department in two hours. After they realized he was a former officer they bought his detective story without even doing any fact checking and let him go with a mere lecture about proper investigation work. Charles then took a cab directly to the airport where the ticket he was promised was waiting for him at the desk under the false name he had been told.
The one way ticket to some city he had never heard of on some island he never new existed read that the flight would be a fourteen hour one. By the time the plane took off Charles had emptied enough beer bottles at the airport bar to make the flight seem a fraction the length of what it was.
After the commercial flight, another much shorter flight in a little puddle jumper and a ferry ride awaited the now very hungover Charles. He looked quite out of place in his jeans and t-shirt amongst all the tourists in their brightly colored shirts and khaki shorts.
When he finally staggered up to the resort he glanced around to make sure who was around before he asked for a reservation at the front desk under the same false name as he got the plane ticket with.
The concierge, who had initially been a little hesitant to help Charles, immediately perked up. “Ah, yes, sir. We’ve been alerted to your situation and have your accommodations ready.”
The accommodations appeared at first to be a small storage shack tucked away in a remote area of the resort ground from the outside. On the inside of the building high tech surveillance equipment that put the paltry stuff he used back in the states to shame were set up on a series of tables along with a laptop and phone. Charles gave the gadgetry a quick once over before picking up the large binoculars from next to the small cot laid out on the floor.
Outside his windowless residence he used the binoculars to make sure he a good view of both of the resort’s more lavish, high end suites off to either side of him about a half mile off.
“Perfect,” Naven said before ducking back inside. He knew it would be days if not weeks before he could make contact with Chelsea without alerting Cheri. He could breathe a sigh of relief now that he could begin his end of the plan. It had all happened so fast after Chelsea had confessed to him what she had been plotting against her father with Cheri that day in her bedroom. She felt she got herself in over her head with the underhanded Cheri, who was starting to scare her a little. It was then she also confessed falling in love with him and asked him to help her plot a double cross against her new partner in crime. Charles had been skeptical the naïve young girl could pull off what he had assigned her without being found out by Cheri or simply just failing on her own. He was so much in love himself, however, it did not really matter and he blindly followed her directions. Now that she had exceeded his expectations he could get on with his end of the deal. He was not about to blow the lucky set of circumstances that led him to this point.
It took longer than he had ever thought to find a buyer for the lavish resort the girls had bought. Even longer to find one that did not fall through before closing. Months and months of him living in the less then luxurious shack went by. An unforeseen development late in the game had put a little extra pressure him to close a deal. Once he did though the rest went pretty smoothly. Cheri had kept her name off any paperwork, relying on her partner’s clean name and underestimating her ability. Once the resort was sold he moved billions of dollars from the girls’ joint offshore accounts to new ones that only he and Chelsea had access to.
He had made sure Cheri was off at a local smoke shop she had been frequenting lately before he set things in motion. Once he had seen the thick smoke billowing out of the windows of the tiny little “tobacco” shop he knew he had a good couple of hours. By that time she would be locked out of the resort she no longer owned and penniless.
Charles ran full speed over to Chelsea’s after everything was done. She was in the kitchen. Half of the granite island countertop was hidden beneath her breasts as she munched away on heavily buttered croissants dripping with honey that filled the rest of the island. Her rapid weight gain that Cheri had a hand in had continued to grow her chest first and everything else after, but this last week her boobs had become bright pink sacks of throbbing blue veins as they swelled to epic proportions. Before he told her of the good news, he asked something he felt was far more important.
“Have you had it yet?”
Chelsea’s eyes lit up when she saw him and then turned serious. “No, and now I’m a month late.” Her honey covered lips split into a huge smile. “Baby, I think we’re going to be parents. Isn’t it great?”
While Charles was ecstatic she was so happy and pleased that their current situation was about to come to an end before his archenemy could fatten his lover to the point where she was impossible to travel with (As it was he figured they would have to buy a plane ticket for each boob), his mind flashed to the fact that she was a young spoiled rich girl who had stolen from her own father only to double cross her lesbian lover with the help of her boyfriend. Along with the fact he was jobless and obsessed with getting revenge against the tramp who had easily seduced him on two occasions, Charles was pretty sure parenthood might not be the next logical step for them. In the interest of getting her moving more quickly he simply said, “Yes, hun, that is great. Did Cheri notice the…” He gestured to her bright pink fun bags.
“I told her I thought I had a food allergy. She just thought it was fun to pinch them and make me squeal. They are so sensitive.”
“They look about ready to pop, but this should fit. Its time to go.” He tossed her a XXL muumuu with a brightly colored tropical print. In an instant it turned her from a horny teenager’s wet dream to an image closer resembling a circus fat woman, as it was impossible to tell where her breasts ended and her stomach began.
Once the cheery couple was seated in a cab whose driver was only too happy to speed them to the ferry for a handful of hundreds Chelsea gave a big sigh. She reached her pudgy hands up to her man’s cheeks and pulled him into her for a long, passionate kiss.
“I hope I didn’t get too fat for you, baby?” It was a question she had asked many times over the last few months, “I think that bitch was purposely using my love of food against me. But now that we’re together I can diet down to whatever size you want.”
Charles had been able to see Chelsea only when he was sure Cheri was going to be gone for extended period of time. The times he did get to spend with her the two were doing things which led to the pregnancy and not doing a lot of talking. Consequently Charles had not been able to express how much he had been turned on as Chelsea grew bigger and wider. So much so that he had made provisions for their upcoming long trip.
“Rich people don’t diet, hun,” he said, opening a satchel he brought to reveal it was filled with countless packages of chocolate chip cookies and Mars bars. “Especially rich pregnant ones.”
Before he had even finished his sentence Chelsea had a package of cookies opened and resting on her cleavage as she shoveled a handful into her mouth. While she continued eating Charles made a phone call.
“Yeah, I’ll need two tickets to L.A. please.” After a short pause he glanced over and saw how Chelsea’s wide ass packed tightly in the floral muumuu was spread out over more then half of the back seat. “Better just go ahead and make it four, we’ll need at least that many of the meals anyway.”
Last edited by Risible : 06-21-2008 at 02:28 PM.