Chocolate Lovers - by Lardibutts (SSBBW (multiple), Explicit sex, lactation)

Discussion in 'Erotica Archive' started by Lardibutts, Jun 21, 2010.

  1. Jun 21, 2010 #1

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

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    SSBBW (multiple), Explicit ~sex, lactation ~XWG – Re-imagining of Size Matters by MAGM

    [Author’s Note:] It is early summer in the southern Mediterranean. Everywhere on my favourite island deliciously bulging soft new fat is being shyly exposed for the first time. The sights in the evening passeo are extraordinary; wobbly muffin tops in extravagant swaying motion engulf me. As the sap rises in my old veins, I have the urge to write again.

    What follows is a “remake” of a mega saga: ”Size Matters” by MAGM posted in 08-25-2006. The story seems to be forgotten, it only clocked up 2236 viewings in total.
    What I particularly liked were the long intimate dialogues between a hesitant young girl and her SSBW mentor. What I didn’t like were a lot of rambling sub plots and scarcely understandable digressions. Over the years, whenever I return to it on my hard drive I've stripped it out as I read. Now only the core dialogue remains.

    My “remake” makes use of the original dialogue but locates it in “my” island setting. If you all feel I have plagiarised too much, then the moderators can step in and delete it.





    CHOCOLATE LOVERS ​

    by Lardibutts


    Part 1 The northern ice maiden



    The frail and delicate la Signora Carmella had been bubbling over with anticipation for weeks. Through Flavia she’d be able to revisit the long departed Dolce Vita life style of her youth.

    Standing at the balcony window of the Villa Manciate, a florid liberty style palazzo standing in its own grounds behind iron gates, she gazed out over the stylish boulevard onto the fashionable Panciuto beach just visible between the tamarisk trees. Away to the right, on the headland, was the flamboyant old casino, the centre of the island’s celebrated nightlife. Beyond lay a kilometre strip of clubs, 5 star hotels and glitzy attractions.

    Rheumy eyed, she pictured Flavia strutting out over the boulevard in her beach wrap and bikini to excite the boys in the beach cafe. At night her vibrant young visitor would be whisked away in a dashing open Alfa Romeo to dance the night away.

    In a land of shining dark tresses, smouldering eyes and flashing smiles, the reality proved very different. Amidst the throng meeting and greeting arrivals off the Verona Ryanair flight, Signor Manciate and his wife had been shocked at their first encounter with Flavia. Bent under a gigantic back-pack, they’d found a tall artlessly pale and embarrassed young woman, blonde hair tightly plaited and pinned around her head in the northern Italian German-speaking Tyrolean fashion.

    Flavia was taking a year out from her studies because her parents, anxious about the pressures of her exam years, felt she needed a break before university. Flavia’s dad had fixed for her stay with a business associate in Pannecotterra, the fairy tale Italian island way down in the southern Mediterranean.

    Since the Tunisian coast is close enough to be seen on a clear day, the island’s culture is a mixture of Arab and Italian. The islanders enjoy a cuisine of both pasta and sweet things in abundance, and love pampering their children and their womenfolk (not to mention themselves).

    No doubt for these reasons, a recent EU health statistic identified the tiny island’s population as the most obese in the whole of the European Union, a minor news item overlooked by Flavia and her parents.

    Daddy’s contact was a wealthy man living in some style in the island’s capital Panciuto. Signor Manciate and his wife were a dignified couple, short in stature like many Mediterranean island dwellers. Signor Manciate always wore a dark formal suit with waistcoat - partly to reinforce his importance, but mostly trying to mitigate the visual impact of a comical globular paunch.

    Just as Flavia’s parents hoped, Signor Manciate and his wife had been delighted to agree to welcome their daughter; the couple seemed ideally suited to be kindly elderly grandparents acting in loco parentis for Flavia.

    Carrying out an instant visual appraisal as they passed out of the little airport terminal, la Signora Carmella noted that Flavia would have had acne through her teenage years and that her metabolism must have pitched her into weight gain. Now, at eighteen, the young girl’s complexion had cleared but weight loss attempts had resulted in a kind of lumpen shapelessness. She saw how, struggling with low self esteem, the poor girl would have been ridiculed by the fast set at school and college.

    During her first days at the villa Flavia continued being painfully shy and retiring. Deathly white, she hid away out of the sun in her bedroom and at mealtimes ate scarcely anything. She would just sit eyes downcast at the table, say nothing and look homesick.

    Comparing things with her maid, la Signora Carmella heard how the poor girl always scuttled back to her room where she escaped back into her iphone and resumed the endless texting of her friends back in the Tyrol.

    La Signora had got her driver to take Flavia out shopping with her in the Lancia but the girl had looked gawky and ungainly towering over all the bustling assistants in Signora Carmella’s favourite gown shops.

    The only scrap of information that was in anyway positive got relayed back to la Signora from the cook via the maid. Signora Carmella’s driver – who usually shared the fat cook’s bed - reported that he’d dropped Signora Carmella and Flavia off for a cappuccino at Panciuto’s premier Café Braunzucker during their expedition and afterwards the prim northern maid had mentioned how proud she’d been at seeing her father’s produce on sale in the café’s display cases. For this was the business link: Flavia’s dad dispatched northern mountain delicacies southwards, Signor Manciate’s luxury island produce went northwards.

    Hearing their driver’s remark, the Manciates resolved to show Flavia their own shop on Saturday morning. Here she could see her father’s baked Tyrolean produce arranged on show alongside the Manciates’ own Pannecotteran delicacies.

    For Signor Manciate was the proud owner of a famed chocolate business. His shop on the Corso Garibaldi, Panciuto’s prime shopping street, was no less luxuriously appointed than the Café Braunzucker several doors along,

    Gold trimmed sparkling glass fittings floated over a glasslike polished marble floor, displaying the most delectable food items of every manner and type. Clad in a slinky gold silk shift, Maria, the roly-poly effervescent little shop assistant who worked front of house for Signor Manciate was checking her tables and chairs when they arrived, she returned to the counter to greet them warmly.

    Signora Carmella was delighted that Flavia had made more of an effort for the trip. She’d re-plaited her hair and was wearing a new bottle green trouser suit from her back-pack, though still of an austere militaristic cut. Even so, at 5’ 10” she still loomed, gaunt and awkward over the sparky bubble butted Maria.

    They had scarcely begun to take stock of the array of delicacies on display before a large party of Japanese tourists arrived to fill the shop and demand the full attention of Maria and the proprietor.

    Propelling Flavia brusquely through a bead curtain to be out of the way, la signora hissed “You must come behind to see how we make all our chocolates”

    Disoriented at first, Flavia found she was in a cool dark cavern of a space, filled with the most deliciously heady aroma.

    “Aha!” bellowed a great deep voice, “Signora Manciate! Bon giorno! Is this the famous Flavia? So you have brought the mysterious ice maiden from the north to visit us? My but isn’t she a beautiful great girl”

    Her eyes growing accustomed to the dark, Flavia saw a vastly fat black woman advancing towards her. She had never seen anyone wider than this woman. Sideways on, she seemed at least a good 4 feet from low thrusting prow to high shelving bum. She too wore a gold shiny garment similar to Maria’s though it was blasting apart, failing to contain her bulk.

    “Flavia . .” la Signora began “you must meet la Signorina Marronecaramellato our Chocolatiere.

    “La Signorina Marronecaramellato? Ha! Who the hell is Meena Marronecaramellato?
    Listen, everyone calls me Meena or ‘la cremeria!’ or ‘la svezzagrande’ (shorthand for the ‘the bigweaner’).

    The woman laughed uproariously as she struggled to heft her enormous bulk. “Why? Because of these two beauties, they’re the biggest and the best girls in Pannecottera – aren’t you my lovelies?”

    Flavia’s eyes boggled; she couldn't help fixating on the woman’s enormous pendulous breasts, thrusting well out down at her waist:

    “My God! They're huge, I wonder how……I mean how could anyone ever manage that much breast flesh? Flavia thought.

    "You want to stare at my tits all day honey or ya going to find out how I make chocolate with them?"

    Flavia tried to stammer out some kind of reply but before she could do so the woman had pushed on into her, crushing her up against the wall. Looking Flavia straight in the eye, she was mouthing as if to kiss her.

    “You’re my kind of girl, I love ‘em tall like me. Come along, we’ll soon get you settled in.”

    La signora Manciate, feeling like a burden was lifted from her shoulder, slipped back through the bead curtain into the shop.

    Nearly an hour passed before the Manciates were through with helping Maria deal with the Japanese party. Most had sampled the various treats sitting down at the tables before deciding what to buy. Then followed the extended ritual of wrapping pretty little parcels and decorating them with elaborately flowery ribbon bows.

    In the excitement of serving the Japanese, Signor Manciate had forgotten completely about Flavia until his wife reminded him. They went through into the back to find her but everything was in darkness. Then they heard peals of laughter coming from the other end of the great stone vaulted work area. Passing around the broad stainless steel work tops they traced the source of the merriment to a little cave-like relaxation area at the back. Flavia was lying back, draped over a chaise lounge while Meena was selecting little titbits for her to try. Flavia wore a big white work apron like Meena’s but the front was streaked with chocolate; Flavia’s mouth too was caked in chocolate.

    “She says she likes my bitter chocolate and bitter lemon butterflies best!” Meena laughed “But she also likes your chocolate shells filled with ricotta brandy too Signor”

    The Manciates could not believe the transition. It was like chocolate had somehow cast a spell over their troubled ward.

    “I said she deserved a rest because she worked so hard helping me with the chocolate butterflies.

    “Yes but I mainly helped by eating the ones I’d messed up,” Flavia giggled.

    “She’s a fast learner though,” and Meena bent to kiss her on the forehead approvingly. I’ve been showing her the rest of our range.

    “Oh do we have to go already?” said Flavia, and she made puppy like pleading eyes at la Signora Manciate.

    Well we could go and get lunch at the club and collect you on our way home if you prefer,” said Signor Manciate.

    “Ooh yes that would be lovely.”

    The Manciate’s went out to their car marveling at the transformation in their troubled guest.

    “Who’d have ever thought she’d hit it off with Meena,” la Signora said.

    Her husband merely grunted a response. He’d read the signs. He already knew a thing or two about his “little” Meena and her ways; Flavia would be a very different shape after his Chocolatiere had done with her.

    He himself felt turned on by the idea, that’s why he so loved the business he was in – but he would never let on to his wife.

    to be continued
     
    chicken legs and Lou Grant like this.
  2. Jun 21, 2010 #2

    chicken legs

    chicken legs

    chicken legs

    yawn

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    Yay you decided to write more stuff..
     
  3. Jun 22, 2010 #3

    Bluestreak

    Bluestreak

    Bluestreak

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    Whoo Hooo! This looks like it'll be a LOT of fun!
     
  4. Jun 22, 2010 #4

    elroycohen

    elroycohen

    elroycohen

    Steampunk Psycho

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    Had to do a doubletake when I first saw who wrote this, but that is great, man. Good to see you back writing.:bow:
     
  5. Jun 23, 2010 #5

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

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    Thanks for the encouraging posts guys.

    And ec you been here too! What’s a seriously big fish like you doing scratting around in the shallows?
    Get back out there writing with the heavyweights, along with “fish I cannot even pronounce.” (I’m going to have to work that quote in somewhere while plagiarising other people’s stuff).
     
  6. Jun 24, 2010 #6

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

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    Part 2 Teenage dreams right through the night



    The Manciates returned to collect Flavia around five. Since the shop shut early on Saturday afternoons, they rang the side door.

    “She’s fast asleep,” Meena boomed at them over the intercom. “Come in and I’ll wake her.”

    They were obliged to help Flavia out to the car, unwinding her out of the big white apron just before she slumped into the back seat. Back at the Villa she somehow managed to stumble up to her room before passing out across the bed in a stupor.

    For most of Sunday Flavia was still out for the count; la Signora Manciate saw nothing of her all day. Serving afternoon tea, Carmen the maid reported she’d just heard Flavia showering and . . . wonder of wonders. . . she’d been singing in the shower!

    Later on, taking her leave for the night, the cook too said she had taken a hearty supper up to Flavia’s room around seven and that Gianni the driver had just come down from collecting the empties and said their guest had wheedled him into taking her back to the shop in the morning.


    When la Signora arrived down for breakfast around nine thirty, she found Flavia long gone. She had taken coffee and a brioche with her husband before leaving for town with the driver just after eight.

    “So how was she dressed?” la Signora was curious to know.

    “Just an ordinary pair of shorts and a shirt as far as I can remember,” was the reply. “Why do you want to know?”

    “Huh! She seems to have decided to relax all of a sudden and let her hair down.”

    “Now you mention it, her hair was down. It was all loose around her shoulders – made her look much more comfortable and happy.”

    Flavia arrived back on the bus about seven that evening ready to eat heartily with the Manciates, initiating a pattern that was to continue all week: - off into town on the bus sometime after seven, back tired but happy some twelve hours later.

    By the end of the week, Signor Manciate was covertly enjoying how Flavia’s tummy was pooching all silky and wobbly in her white tee shirt. With her deliciously soft navel recess pressing against the fabric, it was like she was mouthing something provocative to him with her tummy whenever she walked by.

    La Signora Manciate was in turn enjoying (even more covertly) how the young girl’s development was affecting her husband. Things hadn’t turned out quite what she had imagined they’d be when she first agreed to their visitor; nevertheless it was good watching the sap rise in the shriveled old curmudgeon. He was even beginning to touch her again – – though no doubt imaging her to be Flavia.

    ------

    As for Flavia: she felt she was entering the paradise garden.

    For those long years through puberty she’d felt lumpen and despised, not least by herself. Now at last, thanks to Meena, she was finding herself. At eighteen she was being complimented (even cherished dare she admit) for what she was: a statuesque tall blonde - and OK maybe still a bit hunky here and there.

    It wasn’t only Meena’s skills with chocolate she desired; she could learn so much from Meena as her mentor. For Meena had captivated her; swept her utterly off her feet.
    Flavia had gleaned a few scraps of her exotic bio. Though she looked African, Meena’s mum was Indian (hence the name Meena). She’d been born in Addis Ababa where her mother worked as a UN translator. The dad she’d never met was an African judge at the UN, but had paid for her schooling in Geneva where mum had been posted for a while.
    School holidays had been spent with her mother around the world wherever she was working: Brazil /Saigon/Jakarta – all places famous for their food joked Meena patting her belly. These days mum was retired and living in Singapore; she came to see Meena now and again, but missed the spices and the curries.

    Flavia admired how Meena was so gifted and creative in all the things she had previously believed were sinful and should be denied. In her lust for living Meena was totally outrageous. Never before had Flavia encountered anyone so wantonly larger than life than Meena; she dominated everyone with her laughter and directness. Moreover Flavia had learned that, just like her, the teenage Meena had begun acquiring her chocolate making skills (along with her figure?) with a Saturday job in Geneva.

    Had she recognized it, Flavia had fallen head over heels in love.

    The person who did recognize those feelings was Meena. She couldn’t stop congratulating herself on the seduction of innocent young Flavia.

    She’d won herself her very own plaything, a real live doll to decorate. The sweet gauche soul was putty in her hands. She would delight in fashioning a lumpen crude chunk of chocolate into the most exquisite piece of creamy artistry.

    She knew old Manciate would be turned on too by what she had in mind for the tall northern blonde. Had he not taken the greatest pleasure in encouraging Meena’s own expansion?
    Flavia would be recompense for their disappointment with Maria their shop manager. So promising as a little plumper at first, Maria had gone off the rails, got married and worried about dieting plans ever since.

    Meena daydreamed of what she might achieve with Flavia. Play her cards right and she could do whatever she wanted. She visualized a great glowing golden goddess, gliding slowly and magisterially around the golden showcases out front, her shining blonde tresses coiled high above her head. She went wet with lust as she imagined her lustrous protégé willing customers to indulge themselves in far more than they had planned on spending.

    Coincidentally a naked Flavia was echoing those thoughts exactly while surveying and fingered her new softness in detail in the mirror at the Villa Manciate. She turned sideways, pooched out her little tummy and swung her hips experimentally around the room, noting her deportment over her shoulder. It made her realize she had an awful lot to learn.

    Slipping into bed she longed to command space confidently like Meena. Not for the first time Flavia lost herself between the sheets in wonder at Meena’s spectacular breasts; she loved picturing what hefting those huge balloons of breast flesh might feel like.
    She enjoyed dreams that night which left her wet in the morning. Frustratingly she was never quite able to recall them in detail.

    Before they retired to bed, Signor Manciate watched his wife removing her necklaces. Just before he drifted off to sleep he’d worked up an impressive hard on fantasizing that he was smoothing over the softly curving shoulders of a lovely big blonde. Oof!


    To be continued
     
  7. Jun 26, 2010 #7

    elroycohen

    elroycohen

    elroycohen

    Steampunk Psycho

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    Some would argue the shallows is exactly where I belong.

    As for the story, I'm not real familiar with the original, but reading what you have so far there is enough of your style throughout (the exotic locale, for instance) that I would not have even known you had borrowed the idea if you had not called attention to it.
     
  8. Jul 1, 2010 #8

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

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    Part 3 Meena’s Specialities

    Over the next two weeks a pattern emerged. Flavia would manage to arrive at the shop from one direction just as Maria turned up from the other to run up the shutters. They would begin with an early morning coffee at one of the gilt tables. Maria would pick delicately at a tiny ornamental brioche while Flavia worked her way happily through a whole pile of time expired confections that were otherwise destined for the bin.

    “You need to watch what that’s doing to your figure young lady! It’s the one big drawback of working for old Manciate. Look at me, I’m taking forever to get this big bubble butt off me.”

    “How you do exaggerate Maria! Compared to anyone else in this street; you’re a sylph.”

    “That’s only because Pannecotterra is a land of hugely fat arsed cows!”

    “Anyway - we all say your bum is your best feature; sideways on you look so peachy.”

    “Mmm! Perhaps you’re right; my Toni calls it sua susina (his plum). But Toni wants us to move north to Torino to join his cousin. You know yourself how you have to be slim in the north. And at the rate you’re stuffing yourself you will look like a lump of lard when you go back home.”

    Flavia sighed, this conversation got repeated every morning. It was time to go behind the bead curtain, Meena would be arriving down to work anytime.

    As she passed around the back of Maria’s chair, Flavia’s own protruberant butt barged the neighbouring chair, nearly sending it flying.

    “See!” Maria cried gleefully, ”you don’t even notice how big you are getting!”

    Flavia was secretly delighted. She’d already checked how the shorts she’d been wearing to work were tightening across her buns.

    This particular morning Meena was brusque and short tempered when she arrived down from her apartment (she’d stopped being an early starter long ago, when she’d grown big).

    “I thought I told you we needed all that lot cleared out. I’m making a fresh batch today! She gestured across at a couple of refrigerated storage shelves adjacent to the doorway into the shop filled with chocolate gateaux.”

    Flavia conceded that she’d put it off yesterday because she’d felt so full from eating all the mis-shapes she’d been responsible for making in the afternoon.

    “Look madam! I’ve a business to run, this is not a day nursery for idle teenagers. OK I’m going to have to punish you. I insist you eat that lot before you do anything else!”

    Oh God! Really I can’t do that” Flavia gasped – secretly she loved Meena being so dominant.

    “Listen! They’ve all got to go. I won’t serve anything that isn’t fresh to my customers. Make sure there is enough space available for my first batch in half an hour,”

    “OK OK Meena, I’ll manage somehow” Flavia said. She watched Meena’s vast jobbling backside sway slowly away across the work space. As usual Meena appeared to be wearing nothing under her big apron.

    Flavia went and lifted a chocolate gateaux cake from out of the glass fronted case. My oh my, it was seriously heavy! She needed both hands to transfer it across to the nearest stainless steel top. She was about to sit down to it when she realised it would make sense to empty all of the first cabinet out onto the table before she started into eating. This way the great chocolate cream cakes would have time to thaw and soften a bit.

    After some minutes of working to and fro, a phalanx of twenty chocolate gateaux with various trimmings addressed her as she settled herself down at the table to begin. She scarfed the first one down in less than 10 minutes and realised she could handle two at a time no problem. She found she could consume ones with a bitter lemon cream really fast, but others took longer because their hazelnut filling clung greasily to the roof of her mouth.

    Some forty minutes later Meena waddled over with her first batch of the day. By now Meena’s temper had eased and realising Flavia was nearly through finishing her fourth pair of big gateaux, she laughed encouragingly.

    “Wow! What a talented blonde angel we have “ She came across and stood behind her protégé. Flavia felt Meena’s enormous breasts envelope her neck. They flooded out of the apron and wrapped around her shoulders to droop massively either side of Flavia.

    Leaning down Meena murmured into Flavia’s ear, “you see honey? I knew you could do it for me.”

    Flavia was mesmerised by those big breasts flopping down either side of her. She came over all dreamy - just supposing these were her own boobs!
    Touching one of them Flavia marvelled at the weight of the enormous tit. The areola had to be 5" in diameter.
    Meena’s eyes flickered closed as she felt Flavia brushing tentatively at one of her big loose nipples. Instantly the nipple transformed into a dark fist causing Flavia to recoil in shock.
    A heavy drop of milk splashed on the table.
    Meena gurgled with delight and shushed Flavia. “Hush silly girl! You can do more of that later when we get through with work.”

    “I’ll fetch you a drink. It’ll make it easier for you to get through the rest of the stuff.”

    Returning with a litre bottle of sparkling mineral water she poured a glass and set it before Flavia who had already started into her fifth pair of gateaux.

    Meena stood behind Flavia again saying “You are getting so beautifully big and soft now. You don’t want that darling little tummy trapped by those horrible mean little shorts do you?” She bent forward artfully to murmur “So why don’t you eat your way out of them for me?”

    By lunchtime Flavia had done with the first refrigerated case. One by one the buttons on her shorts had popped but still the fabric held - straining around her hips.

    She lay back sweating from the sheer exertion of shovelling all the sweet fattening cake into her belly. By now she was unable to stop herself - she looked piteously up at Meena, her face slathered in chocolate.

    “Oh you poor dear! Let me help you.” Meena shuffled off and returned brandishing a cold bottle of the island’s sparkling white wine. She drew off the cork and splashed some over Flavia face, cleaning away the chocolate before holding the bottle to Flavia’s lips. Flavia swigged down more than half of it then gasped, her eyes blinking in shock at the cold.

    Maybe its time for lunch now! said Meena, you can tackle the other case this afternoon.

    I’ve brought along a green salad and a deep tin of baked macaroni cheese. It will do you good to have something savoury.

    It was true; Flavia enjoyed the salad and its sharp dressing and the spicy piquant salami spread over the hard cheese topping to the baked macaroni. This had become one of her island favourites. She managed to down her half of the meal and lay back gazing vacantly at Meena.

    Meena, sitting quietly by Flavia fed her a peach.

    “Maybe I need to help you this afternoon” she said eventually, placing a hand on Flavia’s grossly distended belly.

    Sitting at the side of her, Meena massaged a glassy-eyed Flavia gently; she sung to her softly about what a wonderful big girl she was getting.
    Flavia worked her way stolidly through the trays of chocolate orange concoctions Meena had fetched for her from the second cabinet. Forty minutes later her jaws were masticating slower and slower.

    …SPLUTT…Blert ….Ping! Suddenly buttons ricocheted as Flavia’s shorts blew apart - followed by a frrrrrrrp of seams bursting open as a roll of stuffed hard new belly barrelled out triumphant.

    She and Meena squawked in delight as Meena drew the shreds of material out from around her thighs and backside and from under her belly. Meena gathered Flavia into her breasts again and kissed her.

    Flavia seemed to rally after her shorts exploded so spectacularly so Meena left her to it. But returning after half an hour Meena found Flavia completely out for the count, face down in a tray of fluffy chocolate concoctions Meena termed her big kisses.
    She was asleep, snoring with her hands clutching at the swollen ball of her new belly. Meena could tell many inches had been added to her waistline.

    It was late in the day when Flavia awoke to see Meena had helpfully transferred all the remaining trays from the second case out onto the table for her. Plus she could swear that there were a couple of the fresh ones there too. Meena had only made them this morning!
    It was just as well she had a little more room now after her nap. She was resuming eating as Meena arrived at her side.

    “Aha! Welcome back to the land of the living! Sleeping beauty has finally woken up.” Meena guffawed. “I’ve just been to check the shop; Maria has just shut up and gone. So there’s only you and me here now; we have the place all to ourselves. I’m so proud of the way you are eating again.”

    ”Tell you what honey, why don’t you let me feed you? I never get to feed anyone these days and I do so love it. I think you might enjoy it too! Lean back, relax and let me do all the work.”

    ”Meena you’re right as usual,” Flavia conceded when she’d been re-arranged. “It really is so much more comfortable lying back. My poor tummy was all squashed up leaning forwards.”

    “OK time to get started,” commanded Meena. Flavia lifting her chin obediently, opened her mouth wide. Meena chuckled, saying she looked like a little bird in a nest.

    Meena began by hand feeding this morning’s chocolate coated plums topped with tart sugared lemon segments (another of her specialities) into Flavia’s expectant mouth. Meena quickly grew tired of standing while feeding her protégé holding the first tray, and fetched her big stool close alongside. Now she was able to feed with one hand while softly caressing Flavia’s swelling stomach with the other.

    While she was gently feeding Flavia the second tray, Meena saw how Flavia’s eyes were shutting for long periods as she relaxed; so she stepped up her efforts with her lower hand. Not only was she caressing the taught skin of Flavia’s grossly over strained new belly, she started to lightly trace its extent. Working up to the undersides of Flavia’s young breasts and across to either side, she purred into Flavia’s ear her approval at the young girl’s efforts as she continued her stolid eating. Meena continued tracing softly around the straining abdomen then eased her way around under Flavia’s new belly. Suddenly Flavia flinched as she felt Meena’s soft fat little sausage fingers moving in between her thighs.

    “Shush shush my sweetie, this is your reward for being such a good little baby bird.”

    Flavia tried wriggling in protest; she wanted to squawk out something but Meena adroitly smothered her utterance with lemon ricotta.

    Meena worked her way expertly up between Flavia’s soft thighs with Flavia twitching in rising terror as she felt Meena homing in. Meena whispered reassurances then became aware of a change in Flavia’s movements once her vulva started reacting. She sensed Flavia‘s lips swelling and her fingers became wet. Unerringly she found her clitoris and gently worked Flavia up.

    Flavia was writhing in abandon, endeavouring to grab her breath in great gulps between gobbets of chocolate, sponge and ricotta. To increase her pleasure she threw her legs wide to give Meena better access. She was moaning now
    but Meena simply pushed more food into her mouth while increasing her excitement with the other.
    As Meena’s hand worked her up, Flavia downed the chocolate goodies faster and faster. Within the space of an hour Flavia had consumed 4 trays of chocolate confections and half a gallon of vanilla ice cream. Flavia was in ecstasy, her nipples rock hard. At last the fingers of both Meena’s hands delivered the coup de grace……. Flavia came violently; screeching out loud and long as she experienced the first set piece orgasm of her sheltered life.

    Once her orgasm faded Flavia was distinctly aware of her painfully swollen tummy. “I’ve got so enormous now. I can’t possibly get up! I’m so swollen.”

    She beseeched Meena “I need you to help me?

    Meena yanked her to her feet and offered her support.

    “Wow honey! You look so hot in just your bra. Look at the size of that sweet tummy of yours! You’d better face it ducky, you own a belly now – and it looks like it has a cannon ball rammed down into it.”

    “Do you have something I could borrow Meena? I can’t go home on the bus like this.”

    There was no way Flavia would get home in this shape.

    “You’d better stay with me. Ring Manciate and tell him you’ve got behind on your orders. He’ll understand.”

    Meena helped Flavia past their rest room at the back of the cave and into her office. She listened as Flavia telephoned saying falteringly ‘Meena says you will understand if I say ‘I got my behind in the orders’ I have to stay the night.

    Meena heard old Manciate laugh on the other end. He knew what they were up to all right.

    “Come on up to my apartment “ Meena said propelling Flavia out into the lift. Flavia had never been this far into Meena’s domain. To her surprise she was in a cumbersome old goods lift containing a couch and a big frig.

    Meena went to the frig and cracked open a bottle of rose, “Us big girls need our comforts!”
    Large polythene containers of milk lined the frig shelves. Meena gesticulated: “Here’s more of the secret ingredient for your favourite chocolate”.
    Meena giggled, hefting one of her breasts as she swigged her wine.

    The lift jolted off on its ascent abruptly jerking its passengers down onto the couch. So slowly did the lift grind upwards, they’d downed half the bottle by the time it clunked to a stop.

    The view from Meena’s apartment was breathtaking. The lift had ascended inside the cliff up to the old citadel, Panciuto’s centro storico. The building was an old loft style space with a balcony jutting out over the modern city. Below on the Corso Garibaldi, the lights of the traffic were gliding to and fro from the harbour.

    An extensive cold supper was spread across a low table adjoining a broad built in area of cushions.

    “Francesca always leaves me something before she leaves; she appreciates how hungry I get through the night.”

    Exchanging her work apron for a short gauzy shift (Flavia was right, she did have nothing underneath) Meena untied her white headscarf and, shaking a thick mane of long dark hair free, spread herself on the couch sighing contentedly. She flicked on the TV, helped herself to some chunks of cold pizza and settled back. She snugged up sensuously to Flavia and fed her several refreshing tomatoes washing them down with a sparkling prosecco.

    Meena drew Flavia in further against her mountainous bulk and relaxed. Blissfully intoxicated by now, Flavia nestled into the endless extravagance of Meena’s great soft body. Playing with it, running her fingers over the
    contours, the sexual power of all the soft springy chocolate fat overwhelmed Flavia.

    She was murmuring “I’d love to be big like you, do you think you can make me as big as you? “

    Again and again she was returning to Meena breasts. Her finger idly brushing a nipple, she heard Meena gasp and felt a shiver ripple through Meena’s corpulence.The nipple reacted instantly.

    Meena, her voice husky with sensuality beseeched Flavia, "honey I’d like you to touch me again.”

    Flavia giggled when her caresses induced more tumescence: the nipple was darkening, growing thicker and longer. Flavia moved her finger tentatively over the tip; immediately droplets of milk were expressed.

    Before either knew what they were doing, Flavia had locked on, sucking noisily. A sensation of sheer bliss swept over her, she wanted to lie there forever, floating in heaven. A relaxing warmth began permeating her aching belly; Meena’s breast milk was so sweet and smooth, thick and creamy. She was scarcely aware of Meena moaning wildly in ecstasy.

    Flavia settled across Meena, held like a babe in arms by a delighted Meena, sucking first one breast then the other. This was the first of their sessions together on the couch that would only end when one of them would eventually wake-up besotted in milky sweetness.

    Much later that night, Meena awoke, to ease a sleeping Flavia off her gently and shut off the TV cutting a brace of men-in-suits off in midsentence.

    She was hungry now and standing at the open balcony window in the early hours, she wolfed down Francesca’s supper. All was quiet and still in the city below her, except for the distant chugging of an idling diesel. Away at the harbour Meena spotted the culprit: an early morning fishing boat unloading under the arc lights at the fish market quay.

    She turned and surveyed the sleeping Flavia – she was her Flavia now - lying naked and foetus-like across the cushions, pale and vulnerable.

    Tenderly she decided she could not rouse the poor soul to move her into a bed (Meena’s own bed?). Placing one knee carefully down on the edge of the great day bed, she commenced manoeuvring her enormous bulk over amongst the cushions to lie close up alongside her promising new protégé.



    Continued in post #12
     
  9. Jul 4, 2010 #9

    mdy73

    mdy73

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    I enjoy to read this nice story & of course i look for next chapters. Thank you very much for posting...
     
  10. Jul 9, 2010 #10

    bbwsrule

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    Promising story. Keep it up!
     
  11. Jul 12, 2010 #11

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

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    Thank you.
    Sorry for the delay - I've been away for the last week.
     
  12. Jul 12, 2010 #12

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

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    Part 4 "I... I want to gain weight."

    Flavia awoke as the rays of the early morning sun across the harbour slanted across her. To her astonishment she found herself lying partly crushed by the bulging weight of a sheer wall of soft warm chocolaty flesh overhanging her. Wonder of wonders! It was one of Meena’s enormous arse cheeks and she sensed it quivering as Meena snored.

    Flavia needed to pee. Easing herself out from below Meena’s fat, she padded into the bathroom to relieve herself - and caught sight of herself in the mirror.

    OMG!
    In disbelief she saw a hugely round shockingly hard belly forcing her tits up high towards her neck. She thrust outwards to accentuate the boulder belly and saw how the hardness ran around to either side of her. Where only yesterday she’d had a waist, her belly sides bulged wider even than her hips –- those bulges would be clearly visible from the back!.

    She turned sideways on, her new rock hard belly bulged straight out above her like she was nine months pregnant. She tried to gauge just how much she’d pushed into it. Hefting it, she imagined the contents of those refrigerated shelves compressed into it; judging by its hardness they were rammed down hard into her!

    She noted how her big new belly was jutting out further at the top which is why her breasts were resting on top of a sort of gently curving shelf. Moreover the belly was even harder at the top than around its lower curves.

    Now she was aware of the full extent of this spectacular new addition to her figure, she felt she had to use her arms to cradle it wherever she went. She needed to protect her new belly; maybe she might even be in danger of bursting: damaged by sharp objects.

    Meena rolled over releasing a long deep fart and awoke. She laughed when she saw Flavia examining herself.

    “Come here child! She smiled, “let me feel that beautiful new belly. Aha! You are so gorgeous, but you will have to take care of it, feed it. Promise me you will talk to it, love it. You must tell it you want it to relax, grow big and soft.”

    Flavia proffered her jutting gut for Meena’s kisses then Meena drew Flavia down against her.
    “"Now then.....” Meena said at length, " …remember what happened last night? You still want to be my size?”

    Flavia arose and stood by the bed looking deep into Meena’s eyes. "I've never been more serious in my life.... I want... I want you to help me get really big."

    She hauled Meena up into a sitting position resembling a gigantic wobbly walnut whip. As they talked quietly about their reaction to the astonishing evening, Meena probed reflectively around in her tits, examining the effect on them.

    She said at last “OK we have to get down to work, remember? Go fix us some coffee young lady while I get a bath.”

    Flavia watched as Meena’s gigantic arse shook and shimmied away into the bathroom. More than ever she found herself wondering what owning those tits and nipples might feel like. Cradling her hard new boulder belly she went off to ponder how to work Meena’s Gaggia coffee machine.

    In search of milk she opened the frig to see more of the unmarked polythene milk containers she’d seen in the lift lining its shelves. Flavia opened one and held it to her lips. Meena’s secret chocolate ingredient was milk all right - but extremely creamy and very sweet.

    The distinctive sweet taste lingered in Flavia’s mouth; she couldn’t quite bring to mind why it was so familiar.

    She called “Is it OK to use this milk?

    Meena called back “its all I’ve got – you should be used to it by now. Francesca helps me express it. I reckon she’d be more than happy for you to take over the chore”

    Meena relaxed into her bath. As she luxuriated, proudly watching her breasts float amongst the suds, Meena asked herself 'that girl, I wonder what she’s thinking?'

    Maria opened up the shop alone that morning; she rather missed breakfasting with Flavia. But she smirked and phoned Toni to tell him when Meena and Flavia arrived down to work together and over an hour late. What’s more, she told Toni, just like her boss, Flavia appeared to be wearing nothing more than a wrap around apron.

    “Well that means the pressure is off you ma susinsa piccola,” Toni told her.

    Just like any other day Meena had Flavia sit in the back and eat her way steadily through the older stock. You need to keep that new baby of yours well topped up or you will lose it she warned. But she also set Flavia to oiling herself every hour with warm olive oil.

    Having burst her way out of her clothes yesterday, Flavia sat naked except for her apron. She wondered how she was going to get back to the Villa Mazzini on the bus that night. Mid afternoon Meena shuffled over with a new loose white sleeveless top and a pair of black pants with a cord drawstring. She’d sent her maid Francesca out shopping for them.

    -------

    Every day Flavia stood in front of her full-length bedroom mirror taking stock of her expanding acreages of northern ice-maiden flesh. Flavia’s metabolism had gone into working overtime adapting to cope with her violently enforced step-change. Even so it was taking a good few days to convert all her unrelenting eating into fat for redistribution.

    If anything the size of her belly had increased but was becoming increasingly soft and plushy. The original brutal cannon ball shape was folding into two rolls, though still pushing defiantly outward. Her lower roll of belly was softer and had actually begun drooping over her panties. The bulges around her sides had strengthened (the left-hand one appeared noticeably larger); they were melding together with some deep creases at her back.

    The skin seemed to be slightly dimpled on her thighs and where her panties were too small to contain the fleshy cheeks of her bottom. She stood sideways on to the mirror and admired her bottom jutting out proudly behind her. Now it looked really big compared to the rest of her body. It was causing her spine to curve outwards towards the bottom - pushing her new belly rolls further outwards.
    Flavia decided her blue vein flecked northern white flesh would look a lot better with a tan; a golden colouring would go well with her blonde hair.

    Some weeks on and events one morning made Flavia realise how noticeably she had already changed

    Readying herself to go into town, once again admiring her newly tanned golden body, she stood before the mirror towelling off after her shower.

    ‘Wow, my boobs have gotten huge.' Flavia thought.
    She held her newly ample breasts in her hands, fondling them, feeling their weight and circumference, watching them wobble vigorously as they bounced back once she let go. Flavia got very turned on by this discovery, but suppressed the desire to lie on the bed to finish celebrating. She continued checking herself out.

    She turned around. “OH SHIT She pinched herself. A big bubble butt!” Then “Omigod, my legs. I've got fat legs!”

    Her inspection had delayed her. So she skipped as fast as her lush new bodywork would allow down the stair of the Villa Manciate and bounced out across the hallway to catch the bus.

    Through the open door to the breakfast room she glimpsed Sgr Manciate. He was sitting alone (lying in wait for her as usual).

    She called in “Buon giorno! Sorry, no time for a coffee this morning Signor. “

    Sgr Manciate sat enjoying her flounce away from him. ‘Ooh! Aren’t you getting a plump little darling!’ he thought.

    He could see a lot of wildly swinging wobbly movement to her deliciously fat bottom now. And she was getting wider as well as full. 'Those shorts are about to burst at any moment’ he said to himself. ‘Meena is getting you so nice and fat. She’ll blow you up so incredibly big, you’ll always be gasping for more!’

    Glancing around at the door to wave her goodbye, Flavia caught what she interpreted as Sgr Manciate’s critical look.

    ‘Uh Oh! Stay in with Daddy’s business partner she told herself. I can always get the next bus.

    She came back to sit beside him, looking quizzically at him.

    “Oh there's nothing wrong dear - I just noticed that; well how can I say …um.., you seem to be outgrowing those shorts dear, don't you think?"

    She looked down at the lower roll of her soft tummy fat flowing over the waistband of her shorts onto her thighs. It was true her shorts were far too small - and seated as she was, her thighs were flattening out tearing the leg seams apart.

    She saw him note how the tops of her breasts were pushing out over her neckline; her top was scarcely able to contain her. "You think I am getting too fat Signor?"

    Sgr Manciate laughed "Good heavens no. You're not too fat at all! Look here, why don’t you call me uncle? I’d like that. You are only 18 - it's normal for a girl to fill out a bit at your age, besides, you like Meena’s chocolate too much don’t you eh... ha, ha!" He patted her beautiful golden thigh. He enjoyed how it quivered, so he patted some more.

    “Oh dear! I’ve made you miss your bus. Look, why don’t I give you a ride into town?”

    By the time they arrived outside the shop he was resting his hand permanently on her thigh in-between gear changes.

    He drew out his wallet, passing her a clutch of €50 notes “Here have some money. You really must let me buy you some new clothes.”

    Leaning over to shut the door he added “Just our little secret, eh?”

    “But of course uncle! Ciao.”

    Flavia slowed her walk, exaggerating the roll of her hips as she crossed in front of the car. She found she had six €50 notes to spend.

    She was back in his good books.

    And so it continued…. she never ever wanted for something exciting to grow out of ever again.

    to be continued
     
  13. Jul 16, 2010 #13

    Bluestreak

    Bluestreak

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    Awesome!!!!
    More please!
     
  14. Jul 26, 2010 #14

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

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    Part 5 "Too damn sexy for her own good"

    The Manciates had gone off to the mainland for a few days so Flavia was staying in town with Meena up in her loft apartment. Everyone was noticing how Flavia was finding excuses to stay with Meena more and more frequently.

    Flavia was readying herself to go off strutting around town wearing some of her expensive stuff old Manciate was paying for. She’d enjoyed selecting a pair of designer jeans and a little peacock blue top that were up to capacity, not to say overfilled. Her backside was round, protuberant, and very sexy with her tight clothes accenting the jut of her rump. She had a jelly belly roll flopping over her jeans waistband, which, by leaving the top button undone, she’d pushed down low.

    Beginning by parading down the Corso Garibaldi, she noticed how all the guys were clearly lusting after her. Checking herself in the windows she realised she looked delightfully gappy and everything, boobs, midriff and backside were bouncing about as she strutted her stuff. Her boobs were mashing against her top and soft breast flesh was flooding sexily up over a low neckline as she moved.

    She continued down the Corso Garibaldi, flaunting herself to the full as she sashayed past the punters seated around the outside tables of the Café Braunzucker. She enjoyed the feel of her new 46“ hips rotating best of all. She rolled them lazily around, watching her big bum swaying past the windows, listening to her fat thighs swishing.

    At the next corner, on a whim she turned off left to descend one of the narrow streets that led directly down to the harbour. She fancied buying an ice cream then sauntering along admiring the expensive millionaires yachts nosed into the quayside before embarking on the serious business of spending more of Signor Manciate’s clothing funds in the expensive boutiques lining the waterfront piazza at the end of the Corso.

    But as she progressed on down the narrow street, the character changed abruptly, the shops were mostly closed up and dirty, everywhere kids were wailing - their mums, often in their underwear, leant in tenement doorways gossiping, oblivious to the screaming around them.

    They all eyed Flavia up and down as she past, envious of her obvious affluence. Nevertheless everything went fine until she noticed two guys following her.

    'Uh-oh, " she thought but she didn't turn around, she simply ducked into the first shop doorway she could find that was open.

    Flavia found herself in a classic long narrow old fashioned Pannecotteran pizzeria/bakery, the kind that were now dying out but which, at one time, had clustered along the streets of the districts around the harbour.

    She clattered through between the two long tile topped tables to address the rather large man at the counter. "Um…Hi!"

    "Buon giorno Signorina, so what can I get for you?"

    "Oh well... erm… actually, there's some guys following me."

    "Right.", the man came from behind the counter and went outside. There was a bit of yelling, than he came back in and got back behind the counter.

    Flourishing a damp grey greasy cloth, he wiped his hands jubilantly before saying, "can I take your order now?"

    "What happened?"

    "Sigh; those kids come around here up to no good, I've had to kick they're asses a couple of times now."

    "Those didn't look like kids to me."

    "Well I think of them as just kids, now, you going to order?"

    "Yes… Yes. Of course! Suddenly she realised she felt hungry, ravenously hungry. It must be with the relief. “Two timpani (deep baked macaroni with tomato and minced beef sauce topped with toasted cheese) please, a dozen pastizzi and a large coke."

    "To go?"

    "For here."

    "Small, medium or large timpana?"

    "Large."

    "Right... Large."

    'Which is what I hope to be soon,' Flavia said to herself.

    "You sure you can handle all this Signorina?"

    "Yup."

    A few minutes later he served up the order from the gas ovens behind him. As Flavia got her food and sat down at one of the wall benches she noticed a few stares.

    At first she started to put her head down. But then:

    'If yer gonna be big hon, ya gotta act BIG.', Flavia heard Meena say. So she held her head up stared out the bystanders and ate the lot. One old lady hurumphed in disgust, Flavia belched aggressively and kept on eating.

    She got up, reached around the back to yank out a wedgie and (nearly sweeping everything off the table with her bum) pulled her jeans up as far under her gut as she could. Finally she lumbered down to the counter to pay.

    "Boy I really wish my girlfriend had your appetite – and that figure of yours!"

    "You think so? Well thanks, Flavia had to burp deeply then undid another button. And thanks again for seeing those guys off."

    “Those kids should be gone now, if they're still there, come and see me, my name's Frans."

    'Thanks, I'm Flavia. Bye."

    "Bye."

    'No wonder those kids were chasing her', Frans thought watching her hips rolling voluptuously out through his place and out into the sunshine, 'She's too damn sexy for her own good, aw well.'

    ----------------

    Back home Big Meena wormed the story out of Flavia.

    "Lets be quite sure” Meena said, “you really do still wanna be my size?”

    “I already said so. I want you to help me get fat, I want a tummy like yours and fat legs and ..….yes ……I want you to grow me an enormously fat soft arse.”

    Meena fondled Flavia’s breasts "Listen honey you’re getting too much boob flesh up here. And not enough in the other places."

    Flavia was lost in wonder at the dominance of Meena's spectacular breasts. She goggled at the plunging enormous water filled balloons of breast flesh, 3 inch nipples aimed at the floor. Her tits were counter-balanced by her gigantic arse: twin spheres of jobbling buttock blubber topped by a wide arse shelf supporting 3 great tubular rolls of back fat.

    So she ventured "Like where?"

    "We need to get your arms bigger, yer legs are big enough, but you need more upper body strength."

    "My tummy?"

    "Yup."

    On the debit side, Flavia had decided she wasn't too attracted by the way the cottage cheesy drapes of Meena’s colossal belly flab sagged towards her knees.

    Hence "Lemee think about it,"

    "Meena gave her a look."

    "But I still wanna get big real fast."

    " OK! OK! When I'm done with you, kiddo… you’re gonna be globular. You'll see."

    "You’re sure about that?”

    “We can do it, but it can be like a roller coaster ride, you start out slow, things speed up, then it's hard to stop."

    "Yes I'm sure."

    "Fine."

    ----------------

    In the evening, over dinner, Meena said, "Look, if you really do want to get to my size, try this on." Meena threw a bundle of gold cloth onto the table.

    'My God, that's the first dress I ever saw you in ....'

    “Yeah! So put it on for me.

    Flavia pulled the dress over her head. It was like being inside a great golden marquee tent. With both hands Meena pulled the front of the dress down and out. Now Flavia was looking over an acreage of gold – just like she was looking out over the roof of a marquee.

    "You want to be fat enough to push this out yourself?"

    "Yes really I do."

    "Alright, take it off."

    Flavia had some difficulty extracting herself from all the folds of tent fabric.

    When Meena pulled it on herself, it stretched so taut across her bust and hips it split violently apart.

    "OK.....” Meena said, " so you still wanna be my size?

    Flavia was looking goggle eyed: “I… I already said I do!”

    “OKl, Well I’ll tell you something in return young lady ... I wanna get slim."

    Flavia's eyes had widened an extra couple of stops... "You? You want to lose weight?"

    "Look Flavia... You’ve had what most girls dream of"

    “But…”

    "Let me finish, you're still relatively thin. You could have been a model. You have those great blue eyes, you're blonde. Long legs." Before Flavia could interrupt again Meena waved her to be quiet. "Now, I know size matters, if I want to get my way: it's easy. I like being big ‘cos I like getting what I want. Nobody really argues with you when you're my size. Or if I want big guys, I have no trouble. I've always been big. But it's hard too. More than a few people look at me like there's something wrong with me. Besides it's tough getting through doors. As you can see, working here at the shop just makes me bigger. I just want to know what's it's like to be thin. So, if you really want to be big... Fat, I'll help you. But in return I want you to help me to lose weight."

    Flavia, overjoyed, attempted a clumsy hug. Meena drew her into her fat and stilled her. Flavia nuzzled Meena’s giant cleavage; she felt so reassured by the endless extent of those giant boobs.

    She pulled her head out and looked deep into Meena’s eyes.

    "All right?" Meena said to her quietly.

    "Right," Flavia smiled.

    After they shook hands on the deal, Flavia and Meena relaxed. They spent the evening on the giant sofa bed watching T.V.

    She’s taken the bait, thought Meena, she’s agreed to be the chocolatiers’ resident weight gain project. She could hardly conceal her exhilaration. How this would pull in all the chocoholic punters!

    to be continued
     
  15. Jul 26, 2010 #15

    Bluestreak

    Bluestreak

    Bluestreak

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    Let the games begin!

    (Thanks for new chapter!!!!)
     
  16. Jul 27, 2010 #16

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

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    OK, just for that here's another one...

    Actually there is scarcely any of my writing in this next chapter; I am simply re-posting MAGM's dialogue from the original story. I think it's brilliant stuff.
     
  17. Jul 27, 2010 #17

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

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    Part 6 Weighing and measuring sessions


    As usual Flavia and Meena were curled up together watching T.V.

    Flavia leaned closer in, right up against Meena’s bulk clad in nothing but her tee-shirt. Flavia noticed she was distracting her big boss big time and that Meena was blushing.'

    "You OK darling?"

    "Yeah its just you’re getting so beautifully soft Flavia honey – you’re giving me the hots! You're living every woman's dream: ‘to eat as much as you want and not care.’ Get close to me.”

    After an hour or so of snacking Meena allowed Flavia her customary bedtime feed on the cushions and as usual they fell asleep.

    Flavia awoke at about 5:00 in the morning and went off to her own bed. She lay in bed thinking.

    'Hooray I'm getting fat. Every day I'm getting fatter.'

    Her hand started to move downwards as she thought of this. She let it continue masturbating and she climaxed noisily in the growing light of dawn.

    Coming from the loo she stopped by the mirror. ‘I love the way my bum is growing, I look really good.'
    Flavia placed two hands on her lower stomach, heavy from Meena’s feeding, layered thick with fat curving out sagging slightly over her crotch. She stroked her belly upwards, downwards, sideways, breathing slowly, pondering the probability that it would get bigger still. She gazed in awe at her midriff, where the fat turned tender, soft as honey, bulging out gracefully at her sides. Her wide hips curved down to sexy, fat thighs, and hefty legs.

    She turned to the side, caressed and squeezed her plump bottom. Her rear promised the most gain she thought. Looking behind her over a plump upper arm at her three quarter rear view in the mirror, she admired two shapely globes divided by a delicious cleft.

    -----------------

    The following evening Meena hauled Flavia through into her bathroom announcing. "We're going to weigh ourselves. I wanna check what I'm losing hon. And how fast you’ve been gaining."

    Meena pulled out a big scale. "It's electronic. Gotta strip off to get a good reading."

    Meena peeled the clothes off her enormous body. Once again Flavia was lost in wonder at the dominance of Meena's spectacular breasts. She goggled at the plunging enormous water filled balloons of breast flesh, 3 inch nipples aimed at the floor. Her tits were counter-balanced by her gigantic arse: twin spheres of jobbling buttock blubber topped by a wide arse shelf supporting 3 great tubular rolls of back fat.

    On the debit side, Flavia decided she wasn't too attracted by the way Meena’s colossal flabby belly sagged to her knees.

    Meena stepped on the scale, her great mass of fat all of a quiver.

    "Five hundred and sixty pounds!"

    "Wow Meena: it talks to us!"

    "Yeah - now its your turn."

    Flavia went to get on the scale.

    "Take your clothes off to get a good reading."

    "Two hundred and five pounds!"

    “You poor mite. You’re so thin, I can see your bones!.” laughed Meena and scooped Flavia up into her embrace, wrapping her up deep and warm in her unbelievably soft blubber.

    "There's no way I can weigh 205, it's impossible!" Flavia jumped up and down, Meena grabbed her mid air.

    "Oof. Yer gettin heavy. You won't be able to do that for much longer or you'll break the scale."

    "I'm.... 205?.... How?... I mean..... Wow! I'm...", Flavia hefted her breasts, "I'm getting big." She rubbed her butt and hips. "Real big. Wow!"

    Then she looked around…"Meena, why are you not getting dressed again?”

    "Cos my dress is on the floor. There’s no way I can bend down to pick it up."

    Flavia knelt lightly and handed it to her. She gave Meena another hug.



    So Flavia started gaining as Meena started losing. In two months Flavia gained 50 pounds; Meena lost 70.

    Flavia began experiencing a permanent new fullness, while Meena felt her stomach and hips grow smaller. Flavia now weighed in at 260, Meena had dropped below 500.

    "Wow Bel, everthing’s getting bigger, my boobs, butt, everything."

    "Yeah, well, your belly hasn't grown any."

    "Who would want a bigger belly?"

    "Well hon, a lotta body strength can come from the stomach. Plus yer gonna need something to hold your boobs up."

    "Ya been working out, ain'tcha. So how big you wanna get?"

    "I.... I want to get as big as you."

    "Then you’ll be way too fat for push ups. Your belly, tits everything just gets too fat."

    "Whaddya mean?"

    "Look hon, do I have to spell everything out?"

    Meena grabbed hold of the stair newel and attempted to kneel. Her huge belly spread like a cushion over the ground under her great legs. Her arms weren’t able to reach past her breasts.

    Flavia was so alarmed she screamed for the purple faced Meena to stop. They got her hauled back up.


    God! You really are so big. Lets measure your amazing body.

    "I'm not sure I want it measured."

    "C'mon girl, it'll be fun”. Flavia found a tape measure and handed it to Meena. “You go first."

    "Silly young girl! You really think I can measure myself."

    Flavia got behind Meena.

    "Wait a minute hon.", Meena pulled her dress over her head.

    "There, OK, go ahead."

    "OK, let's see, your bust is... Wow... 95 inches."

    "Damn it, I’ve gone down. I knew it... Hell it's going to keep happening.
    Oh well....", she hefted her breasts and said to them. "Had to happen sometime girls, but I’ve enjoyed a lot of fun with you both."

    "We both have Meena!” said Flavia wistfully, “You really are sure about losing them?"

    "Aw, c'mon, hell yer I'm sure, now keep going."

    Fondling Meena’s breasts Flavia had been enjoying this bit. Meena's huge soft breasts beckoned, hanging down, jutting well out over her great low slung belly. She’d begun taunting the nipples by fingering and licking them. She tried to suckle on them.

    ”I said KEEP GOING Kiddo !”

    "Oh, right.... Waist...130 inches."

    "Well that's gone down too."

    "By how much?"

    "Hh. enough... You mind?"

    "Oh sorry Meena. Your hips are . . gosh! They’re 140!”

    “That’s enough child! Meena growled. Snatching the tape measure she commanded. "Now its your turn": Get undressed. I want an accurate reading."

    Flavia bending over, started undressing with Meena feeling her behind. She heard Meena moaning. 'What is she doing?' Would Big Meena really want to take me from behind? Flavia found she’d gone wet at the idea.

    "Um, Meena - your hands are turning me on." They giggled.

    "OK here we go: bust 52 inches."

    "52 !", whoa


    "Waist 42. Hmmm."

    "Hips 56."

    "Whoa, am I getting big!"

    "You been getting back pains?"

    "A bit."

    " Holding Flavia and gauging her, Meena explored Flavia’s breasts.

    "You are Double E."

    "How do you know?"

    "Used to work in a lingerie department. Women love having someone female and matronly do this. Especially female, but also being big, really big round the bust doesn't hurt either."

    "Oooh – you’re right. It feels so nice honey. Warm and, aaah…. so sensuous when you draw me against you."

    Meena said. "Yer gettin big alright! We really need to work on that belly.": "

    "I... I've been looking at myself, and I don't mind if my belly gets bigger.... Just as long as I can move around."

    "So I've noticed... I’ve heard you really enjoying it."

    "WHAT?"

    " I heard you masturbating last night. "

    "Meena, you’ve been spying on me?"

    ”Spying? You should have heard the row you made! It's fine; everyone does it. I enjoy it too”.

    Meena's tone softened. You know honey, yer gettin to be real sexy. You turn me on all the time. Do you know that?”

    But Flavia was not to be soft soaped; she was still piqued.

    "Look, from now on you work out the way I say, got me?"

    Their feeding session that night extended into sleeping together.


    to be continued
     
  18. Jul 28, 2010 #18

    Bluestreak

    Bluestreak

    Bluestreak

    Well-Known Member

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    Sooo, if I give another snappy comment, we'll get some more?

    (The dialog is terrific...thanks for helping to share this around!)
     
  19. Jul 28, 2010 #19

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

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    Sadly the next post requires more of an input from me, and will need a bit more time. Sorry.

    The last posting contained quite a bit of number crunching where I simply re-gurgitated MAGM's stats. Sadly I have no hands-on experience of weights relative to body dimensions at these exciting latitudes so if anyone out there would like to rectify this I'd welcome helpful suggestions.
     
  20. Jul 31, 2010 #20

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

    Lardibutts

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    Author’s Note:There isn’t any of MAGM’s original dialogue in this chapter, but since it is a cut and paste collage of a story, I've enjoyed reworking a dressmaking scene from one of my earlier stories “Bottoming Out” I reckon the current dressmaker must be the grandaughter of the original Madame Zachary for whom the young Bernadetta worked in Ch 1 of "BttmingO".

    Part 7 Flavia’s “front of house” make-over


    One Monday morning there was a fearful noise as Maria opened up. The clattering and banging of roller shutters and the prolonged ear grating re-arrangement of chairs and tables turned out to be Maria’s preferred way of summoning her work colleagues to hear an important announcement.

    Maria was pregnant – or, to be precise, she was actually 13 weeks (just over four months) pregnant.

    Flavia was full of congratulations though Meena was more guarded. She’d already noticed the growing bulge but was hoping Maria had decided to relax on her diets and go along with her co-workers in just getting big. Maria said that was exactly what husband Toni was worried about. There was basically far too much temptation around here – she gestured around the shelves of chocolate, at Meena flopping out of her apron, and Flavia noisily sucking out the soft inside of one of Meena’s chocolate kisses.

    Toni had decreed she should leave work NOW – with no argument about it. But good sense prevailed and they managed to settle on the end of the month, leaving a little over two weeks for Signor Manciate and Meena to come up with a successor.

    In a discreet lunchtime tete a tete partners’ board meeting up in Meena’s penthouse, Signor Manciate and Meena agreed that given the timing, they had no choice but convince Flavia she should step through the bead curtain to “front of house”.

    They congratulated one another for having had the foresight to encourage Flavia to commit herself personally to the fortunes of their celebrated enterprise.
    When Meena reported that Flavia, becoming more and more a living advertisement for the House of Manciate and its renowned products now weighed over 220 lbs., Signor Manciate contrived a detached dignified executive expression despite his tenting trousers.
    There was no doubt about it, they agreed, their “little” Flavia had thrown herself heart and soul into the business.

    To make certain she got all she wanted out of the meeting, Meena begun putting pressure on the Signor - quite literally!

    By their third glass of champagne, she was squashing him hard up against the wall of her balcony - and wasn’t he loving it?

    Nose deep into her luscious chocolate cleavage, she was flattering him about the way he’d won over Flavia. She assured him he had lost none of his charms.

    Murmuring intimately down at him, she reminded him how she herself as ‘a young slip of a girl’ been had persuaded by the Signor to enhance herself, just as Flavia had now given herself willingly to the House of Manciate.

    She feigned surprise when Signor Manciate revealed that Flavia called him “uncle” and that he had been keeping her in clothes as she’d been expanding.

    The ‘working lunch’ ended with Signor Manciate agreeing to a dressmaker measuring Flavia for a new front of house gold dress that very afternoon and for hair and beauty makeovers so she could understudy Maria in the two weeks remaining.

    Having extracted all she wanted, Meena needed to straighten up the woozy old letch. She patted his erection down, refreshed his dewlaps with a damp napkin and pushed him into the lift.

    ------

    For anybody who was anybody among the old well-to-do families on the island - such as the Manciates, there was only one dressmaker.

    La Signorina Tanti-Zachary, sombrely dressed and slow-moving, was a couturiere from an earlier age.

    Her fashion house had been founded by her grandmother Madame Zachary in the nineteen forties, the era of Italian new wave films: snappy brimmed hats and long grey frocks with shoulder pads. These days Casa Zachary’s premises were frankly past their best. The glass showcases were cracked and the chrome art deco fittings rusted. Matronly mannequins, naked and faded, leant at drunken angles in the window display. Inside piles of cardboard boxes, some marked “recent arrivals” could be seen stacked to the ceiling.

    This did not much matter for nobody actually came to La Signorina; she went to the clients.

    La Signorina had some kind of a hold over, or relationship with, a lugubrious Groucho Marx look-a-like (some claimed he was her son). He drove an 8 seater Fiat taxi of the sort used for airport transfers and was the legs of the operation. Groucho shuttled the grande dame between her clients and seamstresses, collecting garments and distributing dress making materials. His most grueling task was getting the hugely bottomed signorina in and out of the vehicle and assisting her in waddling to her appointments.

    This afternoon Groucho and Signor Manciate had shared the burden between them of unloading the bulky dressmaker and installing her in the shop.

    With the blinds discreetly closed, the session began with pleasantries.

    At Signor Manciate’s invitation, behaving like a little girl, the couturiere had excitedly chosen an extensive selection of chocolate delicacies from the glass shelves “to be going on with”. Along with a cappuccino and a glass of aqua minerale, these were now piled up in front of her and (with her little finger outstretched daintily plus a look of ‘Oh! Really I shouldn’t’ on her face) she’d begun scoffing, pushing them into her mouth one after another.

    Her mouth still stuck up with chocolate, she enquired after La Signora Manciate, regretting that it had been too many years since she had last created an ‘evening frock’ for her.

    Meanwhile Maria was readying Flavia for her measuring. She slipped Flavia out of her chocolatiere’s apron and, releasing her long blonde hair from being coiled up in a white cap, flicked it out and over Flavia’s shoulders. Flavia, statuesque in just bra and panties looked dramatic; striking bands of bright light from the blinds slanted theatrically across her in the twilight of the shop.

    Maria, looking half the height of Flavia and because of this seeming much fatter, began pushing at all the young maiden’s bulging fat. Clucking her disapproval she was saying. “Oh dear Flav! Look at all this. You just wouldn’t listen to me Flav!”

    Led by Meena, the rest of the shop (even Groucho) joined in a chorus of dissent. Drowning Maria out, they assured Flavia she was a beautiful blonde angel.

    Heaving herself out of the chorus line La Signorina Tanti-Zachary advanced to address the newly expanded Flavia. She said, “Allora piccolo – I see you are growing to be a truly lovely big girl.”

    “Thank you Signorina Tanti-Zachary,” Flavia replied, she was blushing now; her eyes lowered respectfully.

    “Call me Tanti! Everyone does my child. Now we must get your sizes.”

    Groucho had stepped up to the couture’s side, armed with a tape measure, note book and pen.

    ‘Tanti’ tried wrapping the measure around Flavia but her own belly and breastworks got in the way. Flavia had to help and ran it around her own waist for Groucho to read. Taking the measurement exactly where Flavia’s tummy hung out the furthest just above the navel, he announced “forty nine inches,” and wrote it down in the book.

    “We really ought to have done bust first, because he’s gone and written your waist on the top line of his notebook,” Tanti observed reproachfully.

    ‘Tanti’ tried to run the tape around Flavia’s sensitive breasts, but her nipples were, getting more and more enthusiastic at Tanti’s touch; they puckered up and Flavia got the giggles with all the tickling.

    “OK! You hold the tape there and I’ll do the back. Oooh lovely! You’re 54”

    The couturiere struggled to ease herself down, trying to manage her unruly lower body.

    “Could you help me down dear” she panted, red faced , “I need to do your hips and legs.”

    Preparing to tackle Flavia’s bottom measurement La Signorina was full of admiration for the young girl’s carriage. She felt gently around but her progressively more intimate groping in and around Flavia’s big bottom soon had Flavia catching her breath and gasping.

    Groucho, pencil poised in readiness over his notebook, heard the danger signs (clearly he’d a lot of familiarity with this work) and gestured for someone to help steady Flavia. Without delay Signor Manciate leapt forward and Meena felt she should intervene too,

    Growing increasingly excited, La Signorina had embarked upon a running commentary on how beautifully large Flavia could grow herself around the rear end. Flavia simpered, wriggling her hips with pleasure at the compliments.

    By this stage all engaged in attending to Flavia were at risk of getting a little over stimulated so Maria feeling excluded, intervened calling out “anyone for more coffee?”

    It allowed Groucho to step in and take Flavia’s hip measurement himself, licking his pencil to record it he proclaimed Hips: sixty and a half inches!

    There was a murmur of approval and La Signorina Tanti-Zachary commented on how beautiful those hips would look wrapped around in gold. Maria used the opportunity to try and take centre stage with a proud twirl of her own gold lame clad hips. But she merely advertised the scale of her preggy belly, reminding them of why they were gathered together.

    Using her fingers to probe and pry at Maria, La Signorina drew detail attention to the way her pregnancy bump was overloading and pulling the gold fabric into shreds as well as dragging the hemline of her skirt up high over her thighs and splitting the seams. She contrasted this with the good sense of her own loose dark skirts where it was impossible to judge exactly where her undoubtedly gargantuan saddle-bagged hips and buttocks might be lurking.

    Just one glance at Signor Manciate confirmed how this shrewd recourse to the dialectic exposed his desire for precisely the opposite. The bottom line for his young front-of-house chocolatiere had to be tightness and glitzy sparkle.

    With a twitch of her eyebrow, the couturiere dispatched Groucho to fetch a bolt of cloth from the van. He rolled it open in the stripes of bright light from the shutters; Flavia squealed with delight as a galaxy of stars flickered around the room.

    “These are our Gold Hologram Sequins,” the couturiere announced proudly, “they will go beautifully with the young lady’s golden tan and blonde hair…plus, no matter what strain they are under they never ever destruct.”

    “From my inspection I realise I am privileged to be dressing a healthy fast growing young lady, therefore I consider one of our fully adaptable dresses essential. In this way she will always be shown off to her best. Instead of the short dress we see falling apart on the pregnant lady, I’d like to create an ankle long slit sheath dress.

    If expansion of the legs occurs especially above the knee, the slit simply lengthens to afford freedom.”

    “Around the hips and waist we make pleats which, should the lady continue to gain as I anticipate, will be designed to burst out progressively.”

    “Now, coming to her breasts…”

    “Oh yes! They’ll be certain to grow....” the Signor chimed in, then went cherry red.

    Flavia cut across him brusque and confident. “....a whole lot bigger I hope!”

    “Yes child," La Signorina assured her, "they will. That’s why I recommend a fully supportive under bodice for the breasts and a low cut neckline so further swelling of the breasts may be pushed upwards – always an alluring - ‘outcome’ - may I say! Ha ha.”


    “As for sleeves: on a young girl a slightly tight short sleeve ending midway down the soft upper arm is always appealing. But on a truly voluptuous beauty, the upper arms may enlarge and droop in a becoming way that complements her full upper figure. In such cases they should be displayed to their best in a sleeveless dress. Our sleeves can easily be removed to reveal full upper arms.”

    After a final check with her clients that no extraneous ornamentation would be allowed to distract from the classic lines she’d ordained, Tanti-Zachary announced a fitting in two days time. Before taking her leave La Signorina was pleased to make a further selection from the shelves, boxed and wrapped by the Signor personally.

    Flavia couldn’t sleep that night for fantasizing about bursting herself out of her beautiful new sequined dress in wave after wave of shooting stars.

    to be continued
     

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