BHM. XWG, Stuffing, Revenge
[NOTE: This story is a sequel to The Right Stuffing, which for best understanding should be read first.]
The alarm clock rung for the fifth time, but in this instance, Steve came fully awake.
"I’m late," he thought.
Steve jumped from bed and into the bathroom to take a quick shower. As he lathered his body with the liquid soap, he went over the current advertising figures for his account, Fab Cakes, in his head. Mr. Jeffers had given him the account last year to manage.
Originally, Sam Jeffers had him slated for the Vitamins and Fitness account. He and his college friend, Bob, were up for the same position. Steve had wanted the job so bad that he had sabotaged Bob’s obtaining the position . He had convinced Jeffers that Bob’s added weight would be a detriment to the account. But then Bob's friends had blown Steve up and he was deemed unqualified as well.
Steve glanced at himself in the hall mirror. He gripped and gently shook his now expansive middle. He sucked in his gut to button his pleated Brooks Brothers trousers. He still hadn’t taken off the weight he had gained last year in Monica’s apartment. His lean figure had been blighted forever.
When Bob and their friends, Monica, Josh, and Ed heard of his betrayal, they had wanted to get even with Steve. Monica had lured him over to her apartment for dinner. Josh and Ed jumped him and bound him to the dining room table. The three friends stuffed him like a turkey for hours.
Bob had joined them later in the evening after the jam session had ended. At this point, they had given him a powerful laxative to expel some of their night’s work. The only problem was that he was so packed full of food, Steve found he was plugged up. He couldn’t move his bowels.
Steve could still feel the bitter humiliation of being so vulnerable. He had had to depend mainly on Bob, his rival, to assist him in his time of colossal need. He was forced to accept their ctions as they rolled and spun him on the floor, driving his bloated belly to the carpet struggling to shift its contents.
It hadn't been esy. Bob had to clasp Steve to his massive chest and constrict Steve’s belly, which was full to bursting. Steve also felt the ache of Bob’s thrusting of his own considerable weight onto Steve’s prone bulging form. Steve remembered the shame yet also the relief when he finally felt the mind-blowing urge to force out the blockage.
Steve had tried to regain his trim physique, but had been greatly changed after his experience that fateful evening. He had oddly enjoyed the feeling of being filled to capacity and fondled. They had pushed and massaged his belly trying to help in its expansion. When they finally released him, he was fattened, flabby, and exhausted.
Steve had been embarrassed going back to work on Monday morning. He had squeezed his rump into a designer suit one size larger than he normally wore. Steve was horrified to discover his newly flabby potbelly swelled over his belt. He explained away his rapid weight gain by making up a story that he had gone away on a weekend cruise and got a little carried away by the drinking and large buffets available. He was luckily able to hide most of his protruding gut under the jacket of his double-breasted suit.
Bob still didn’t get the account, but neither did Steve. He went from promoting health products to snack food. Bob resigned from the firm shortly afterward. He joined their competition taking several key accounts with him. The interesting thing was that Monica and Bob’s plan to punish Steve also seemed to bring them closer together. Monica and Bob had gotten married and had taken an apartment together in the suburbs.
Steve was still a little miffed he hadn’t gotten Monica into his bed. But, he still didn’t seem to have any trouble getting other women to sleep with him. Steve was still very appealing to women even if he had lost his trim figure. He was devilishly handsome and could charm the pants off of anyone. What he did have difficulty with was getting women he dated to share in his fantasy play of feeding his dick and his belly at the same time. He had to resort to heading for prostitutes to satisfy his desires.
He remembered his most fulfilling time was when he had hired three women who worked him in a team effort. The pretty, petite brunette mounted him while the two beach- blondes fed him and rubbed his bloated gut. He was in rapture for hours. So, this is why the pounds from a year ago remained. His fetish for feeding had also increased with time. So, more weight blew out his belly and his pant size.
But, now was not the time for reminiscing. He didn’t want to be late for his meeting this particular Friday. He was planning on taking the rest of the morning off after he finished with Mr. Jeffers. They would be going over their strategy for Monday’s final meeting with Fab Cakes president, Tim Oakley. Steve wanted to make sure he was relaxed and focused for Monday, so he had scheduled a rub down at a local massage parlor. As he did before other important meetings, he would unwind with a soothing massage and spend the rest of the weekend going over notes and statistics to impress Mr. Oakley.
Steve felt that he had to stay in top form since Bob departed. The firm’s numbers fell significantly when Bob took the clients with him. He didn’t want Jeffers to see where the real brains were. Steve was always the face man. He could package and sell anything using his charisma and talent for exploitation. The added girth to his physique did not diminish his appeal. But, he still needed someone to come up with the initial ideas and organize them – which meant someone to do most of the hard work and he would use his allure to sell the ideas. The only problem is that good old Bob was gone. Although he now had found others in the firm to pitch in, it was harder to take all the credit for himself. They were not always as selfless as Bob was for doing what was best for the company.
Bob was an idiot. An ignorant fat idiot, Steve thought to himself.
Now Steve had to actually work. He hated that.
The trip to work was uneventful. Everything in the office was running smoothly as usual. The meeting with Mr. Jeffers went beautifully. He seemed truly impressed with Steve’s take on the account and told Steve that he seemed well prepared for the meeting on Monday. Jeffers said that he was impressed that everyone in Steve’s department seemed to be on board.
By eleven o’clock, Steve was ready to leave the office for the day and start his weekend off right.
The massage parlor was located just blocks away from his office building. As a matter-of-fact, it was highly recommended by other people at the firm. The parlor, White Rain, was decorated with exotic murals of faraway paradises. Everything was tastefully chosen and the management was very discrete. For an added fee, the masseur would give you more sensual attention. They wouldn’t sleep with you, but they would work you anywhere you were in the most need. Steve felt he was in need of the full treatment today. Maybe he would treat himself to two beautiful masseurs.
Steve was greeted at the door by an exotic beauty. She had golden brown skin and startling deep hooded green eyes. She said she was originally from Ghana when Steve asked her origins. She brought him to the desk to go over the arrangements for his visit. He had never seen her at White Rain before. She introduced herself as Roni. She said that it would be her pleasure to personally make sure he experienced his full treatment. She further explained that since he was such a good customer at White Rain that he was entitled to the special – an extra person for the price of two. Steve was pleased and told her so. Roni smiled and told him he could go upstairs to room thirty-four and disrobe.
On his way upstairs, Steve could see that this wing was recently renovated. The hallways were newly painted and decorated. Upon entering room thirty-four, he observed that the normally stark white massage table was colored in a charcoal gray and the room was highlighted in misty shades of blue and green. There was an incense burner whisping swirls of fragrant lotus flower scents through the air. Steve knew that the additional pillar candles in pale hues, hot stones, oils, creams, and the CD player were normally stored in a small room off to the side partitioned off by streams of clear crystal beads.
Oh, this is going to be good, he said to himself.
He quickly entered the changing room and emerged wearing a soft charcoal linen robe. Roni entered with in moments shadowed by a beautiful, petite Asian woman called Song and the auburn-haired, finely chiseled young man who called himself Magnus. He was long, lean with the slight budding of a belly. Magnus closed the door behind him, took Steve’s upper arm firmly, and guided him toward the table. Roni and Song put on the soft New Age music and gathered the warmed oils from behind the beaded curtain.
Steve had some difficulty lying face down on the padded table. His rounded potbelly kept getting in the way inclining his rump into the air a fraction.
“Sir, please make yourself comfortable on your back first,” Song instructed.
They helped Steve remove his robe and placed him on the table ace up. Roni began her ministrations to his face and neck while Magnus worked the muscles in his legs. Song started at his chest and ended at his stomach. She stroked it adoringly and smiled at him.
“You are well fed, Mr. Moore,” Song said, pressing her knuckles into his gut, kneading it gently.
“Oh, yeah,” Steve moaned. “Ladies…and gentleman you are wonderful.”
“And, we haven’t even gotten to the full treatment yet,” Margot whispered almost seductively into Steve’s ear.
After a half hour, they rolled him over to lie on his stomach. Together the three began to massage his flexed ass that his added belly fat kept slightly raised. He moaned in a state of euphoria. They teased his anus and lightly stoked his scrotum. They dug their nimble fingertips into his ass and balls and manipulated the surface of his tummy.
Oh, I’m getting so hard, Steve thought. If this keeps going, I’m going to have to beg them to put me out of my misery.
After a few minutes of their attentions, Roni and Song left his side and Magnus began to knead his back and neck. Steve turned his head, which had been turned to the left side and adjusted it into the headrest. His forehead now pressed against a fully padded cushion while his eyes, nose, mouth, and chin peaked through the opening. He heard the two women return and felt a warmed, wide leather strap slide across his shoulder blades. The women positioned themselves on either side of him and moved the soft leather in a sawing motion across his shoulders.
“Ohh,” Steve breathed.
Suddenly, he felt the strap tighten across his back. Another under his buttocks joined the first one. He stiffened in surprise. The strap squashed his belly onto the table, which was somewhat uncomfortable. His buttock was no longer elevated. Steve did loosen up again because Magnus continued to move his fingers across Steve’s back.
“Comfortable, Steve?” a familiar male voice questioned at the head of the table.
Steve realized that he couldn’t raise his neck to look at this man because the straps restricted his movement. Then he heard the soft purr of a motor. Steve felt the table gradually tilt. His body was being moved into an upward position. The strap pressed against his ass. The straps were preventing him from slipping to the floor.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Steve yelled.
Steve was now raised enough where his buttock hung slightly over the leather strap. Although his weight had to some extent shifted with the incline of the table, a good deal of his mass was still compressing his plump belly. Steve gasped, as he was now able to see the identity of this man through the opening in the headrest.
“Mr. Jeffers is this some kind of joke?” Steve demanded.
Here was his boss standing in front of him and him butt naked and affixed to a massage table by two beautiful women and a strapping, young stud. This was not the image he wanted to project.
“It’s not a joke at all,” Mr. Jeffers replied. “Not at all.”
What the hell is he doing here? Steve thought.
“You cost me one of my best employees,” Jeffers continued.
Sam Jeffers then told Steve how he had accidentally discovered how Steve was responsible in Bob’s departure from the firm a few months ago. He had done some investigating on his own and had Steve closely watched until he was able to ascertain the full truth.
“I had lunch with Bob a few weeks ago,” Jeffers said. “I really had to push, but I got him to tell me everything.”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Steve tried to explain.
“Oh, really,” Jeffers responded, doubtfully. “I heard what your friends did to you to try to teach you a lesson and you still haven’t learned yet.”
Struggling with his bindings, Steve tried to speak, but Mr. Jeffers held up his hand to silence him.
“You take all the credit for everyone else’s work. Other people in the firm have tried to tell me about you, but I was so enthralled with you, I wouldn’t listen,” Jeffers explained. “Then Bob left with what turns out to be his superior expertise.”
Jeffers shook his head at Steve.
“It appears that you’ve been riding on his coat tails all this time,” Jeffers continued. “I can’t get Bob back. He was clear about wanting to make a fresh start. But, I can also see your worth. For all your faults, you are still able to get the job done.”
Mr. Jeffers squeezed Steve’s ass. Then smacked it hard. Steve winced.
“Now, your ass is mine,” Jeffers proclaimed.
He began to slowly circle Steve’s prone form like a shark swimming around its prey.
“It seems that Tim Oakley, our client, wants to see that we are taking his product line as seriously as some of our larger accounts. He wants to make sure that the people representing him fully understand his products – namely you,” Jeffers said.
“I do understand,” Steve replied. “I understand every nook and cranny.”
“You need to identify with the audience,” Jeffers told him. “So, I want to make you its audience by you tasting the entire product line.”
“Now, wait just one minute,” Steve cut Jeffers off.
Mr. Jeffers smiled wickedly at Steve. He moved his palm from Steve’s rump and began to rub the swell of Steve’s belly, which was forced down against the table.
“I can see Bob and his friends made a good start padding your belly,” Jeffers began. “I guess you thought I didn’t notice how large you swelled up over that particular weekend last year?”
Steve began to sweat profusely. Mr. Jeffers looked like he was really enjoying this.
“But, you need to show Oakley you empathize by accumulating some more mass in that gut of yours by Monday,” Jeffers said. “A more corpulent man may be more credible on this account. It is sort of the reverse of what you were trying to convince me about Bob. Your added weight will be an asset, I think.”
Jeffers began to handle Steve’s ass, thighs, chest, and belly as if he were sizing up a prized hog.
“According to your physical last week, you weighed 245 pounds,” Jeffers began. “That is quite a ways from your original 180 pounds one year ago. Since you seem to be able to put weight on more easily now, getting close to 300 pounds by Monday shouldn’t prove a problem for you.”
“I can’t do that,” Steve blustered.
“Sure you can and you will, “ Jeffers answered. “Your job depends on it.”
JUST DESSERTS
by Mick Haggen
by Mick Haggen
[NOTE: This story is a sequel to The Right Stuffing, which for best understanding should be read first.]
The alarm clock rung for the fifth time, but in this instance, Steve came fully awake.
"I’m late," he thought.
Steve jumped from bed and into the bathroom to take a quick shower. As he lathered his body with the liquid soap, he went over the current advertising figures for his account, Fab Cakes, in his head. Mr. Jeffers had given him the account last year to manage.
Originally, Sam Jeffers had him slated for the Vitamins and Fitness account. He and his college friend, Bob, were up for the same position. Steve had wanted the job so bad that he had sabotaged Bob’s obtaining the position . He had convinced Jeffers that Bob’s added weight would be a detriment to the account. But then Bob's friends had blown Steve up and he was deemed unqualified as well.
Steve glanced at himself in the hall mirror. He gripped and gently shook his now expansive middle. He sucked in his gut to button his pleated Brooks Brothers trousers. He still hadn’t taken off the weight he had gained last year in Monica’s apartment. His lean figure had been blighted forever.
When Bob and their friends, Monica, Josh, and Ed heard of his betrayal, they had wanted to get even with Steve. Monica had lured him over to her apartment for dinner. Josh and Ed jumped him and bound him to the dining room table. The three friends stuffed him like a turkey for hours.
Bob had joined them later in the evening after the jam session had ended. At this point, they had given him a powerful laxative to expel some of their night’s work. The only problem was that he was so packed full of food, Steve found he was plugged up. He couldn’t move his bowels.
Steve could still feel the bitter humiliation of being so vulnerable. He had had to depend mainly on Bob, his rival, to assist him in his time of colossal need. He was forced to accept their ctions as they rolled and spun him on the floor, driving his bloated belly to the carpet struggling to shift its contents.
It hadn't been esy. Bob had to clasp Steve to his massive chest and constrict Steve’s belly, which was full to bursting. Steve also felt the ache of Bob’s thrusting of his own considerable weight onto Steve’s prone bulging form. Steve remembered the shame yet also the relief when he finally felt the mind-blowing urge to force out the blockage.
Steve had tried to regain his trim physique, but had been greatly changed after his experience that fateful evening. He had oddly enjoyed the feeling of being filled to capacity and fondled. They had pushed and massaged his belly trying to help in its expansion. When they finally released him, he was fattened, flabby, and exhausted.
Steve had been embarrassed going back to work on Monday morning. He had squeezed his rump into a designer suit one size larger than he normally wore. Steve was horrified to discover his newly flabby potbelly swelled over his belt. He explained away his rapid weight gain by making up a story that he had gone away on a weekend cruise and got a little carried away by the drinking and large buffets available. He was luckily able to hide most of his protruding gut under the jacket of his double-breasted suit.
Bob still didn’t get the account, but neither did Steve. He went from promoting health products to snack food. Bob resigned from the firm shortly afterward. He joined their competition taking several key accounts with him. The interesting thing was that Monica and Bob’s plan to punish Steve also seemed to bring them closer together. Monica and Bob had gotten married and had taken an apartment together in the suburbs.
Steve was still a little miffed he hadn’t gotten Monica into his bed. But, he still didn’t seem to have any trouble getting other women to sleep with him. Steve was still very appealing to women even if he had lost his trim figure. He was devilishly handsome and could charm the pants off of anyone. What he did have difficulty with was getting women he dated to share in his fantasy play of feeding his dick and his belly at the same time. He had to resort to heading for prostitutes to satisfy his desires.
He remembered his most fulfilling time was when he had hired three women who worked him in a team effort. The pretty, petite brunette mounted him while the two beach- blondes fed him and rubbed his bloated gut. He was in rapture for hours. So, this is why the pounds from a year ago remained. His fetish for feeding had also increased with time. So, more weight blew out his belly and his pant size.
But, now was not the time for reminiscing. He didn’t want to be late for his meeting this particular Friday. He was planning on taking the rest of the morning off after he finished with Mr. Jeffers. They would be going over their strategy for Monday’s final meeting with Fab Cakes president, Tim Oakley. Steve wanted to make sure he was relaxed and focused for Monday, so he had scheduled a rub down at a local massage parlor. As he did before other important meetings, he would unwind with a soothing massage and spend the rest of the weekend going over notes and statistics to impress Mr. Oakley.
Steve felt that he had to stay in top form since Bob departed. The firm’s numbers fell significantly when Bob took the clients with him. He didn’t want Jeffers to see where the real brains were. Steve was always the face man. He could package and sell anything using his charisma and talent for exploitation. The added girth to his physique did not diminish his appeal. But, he still needed someone to come up with the initial ideas and organize them – which meant someone to do most of the hard work and he would use his allure to sell the ideas. The only problem is that good old Bob was gone. Although he now had found others in the firm to pitch in, it was harder to take all the credit for himself. They were not always as selfless as Bob was for doing what was best for the company.
Bob was an idiot. An ignorant fat idiot, Steve thought to himself.
Now Steve had to actually work. He hated that.
The trip to work was uneventful. Everything in the office was running smoothly as usual. The meeting with Mr. Jeffers went beautifully. He seemed truly impressed with Steve’s take on the account and told Steve that he seemed well prepared for the meeting on Monday. Jeffers said that he was impressed that everyone in Steve’s department seemed to be on board.
By eleven o’clock, Steve was ready to leave the office for the day and start his weekend off right.
The massage parlor was located just blocks away from his office building. As a matter-of-fact, it was highly recommended by other people at the firm. The parlor, White Rain, was decorated with exotic murals of faraway paradises. Everything was tastefully chosen and the management was very discrete. For an added fee, the masseur would give you more sensual attention. They wouldn’t sleep with you, but they would work you anywhere you were in the most need. Steve felt he was in need of the full treatment today. Maybe he would treat himself to two beautiful masseurs.
Steve was greeted at the door by an exotic beauty. She had golden brown skin and startling deep hooded green eyes. She said she was originally from Ghana when Steve asked her origins. She brought him to the desk to go over the arrangements for his visit. He had never seen her at White Rain before. She introduced herself as Roni. She said that it would be her pleasure to personally make sure he experienced his full treatment. She further explained that since he was such a good customer at White Rain that he was entitled to the special – an extra person for the price of two. Steve was pleased and told her so. Roni smiled and told him he could go upstairs to room thirty-four and disrobe.
On his way upstairs, Steve could see that this wing was recently renovated. The hallways were newly painted and decorated. Upon entering room thirty-four, he observed that the normally stark white massage table was colored in a charcoal gray and the room was highlighted in misty shades of blue and green. There was an incense burner whisping swirls of fragrant lotus flower scents through the air. Steve knew that the additional pillar candles in pale hues, hot stones, oils, creams, and the CD player were normally stored in a small room off to the side partitioned off by streams of clear crystal beads.
Oh, this is going to be good, he said to himself.
He quickly entered the changing room and emerged wearing a soft charcoal linen robe. Roni entered with in moments shadowed by a beautiful, petite Asian woman called Song and the auburn-haired, finely chiseled young man who called himself Magnus. He was long, lean with the slight budding of a belly. Magnus closed the door behind him, took Steve’s upper arm firmly, and guided him toward the table. Roni and Song put on the soft New Age music and gathered the warmed oils from behind the beaded curtain.
Steve had some difficulty lying face down on the padded table. His rounded potbelly kept getting in the way inclining his rump into the air a fraction.
“Sir, please make yourself comfortable on your back first,” Song instructed.
They helped Steve remove his robe and placed him on the table ace up. Roni began her ministrations to his face and neck while Magnus worked the muscles in his legs. Song started at his chest and ended at his stomach. She stroked it adoringly and smiled at him.
“You are well fed, Mr. Moore,” Song said, pressing her knuckles into his gut, kneading it gently.
“Oh, yeah,” Steve moaned. “Ladies…and gentleman you are wonderful.”
“And, we haven’t even gotten to the full treatment yet,” Margot whispered almost seductively into Steve’s ear.
After a half hour, they rolled him over to lie on his stomach. Together the three began to massage his flexed ass that his added belly fat kept slightly raised. He moaned in a state of euphoria. They teased his anus and lightly stoked his scrotum. They dug their nimble fingertips into his ass and balls and manipulated the surface of his tummy.
Oh, I’m getting so hard, Steve thought. If this keeps going, I’m going to have to beg them to put me out of my misery.
After a few minutes of their attentions, Roni and Song left his side and Magnus began to knead his back and neck. Steve turned his head, which had been turned to the left side and adjusted it into the headrest. His forehead now pressed against a fully padded cushion while his eyes, nose, mouth, and chin peaked through the opening. He heard the two women return and felt a warmed, wide leather strap slide across his shoulder blades. The women positioned themselves on either side of him and moved the soft leather in a sawing motion across his shoulders.
“Ohh,” Steve breathed.
Suddenly, he felt the strap tighten across his back. Another under his buttocks joined the first one. He stiffened in surprise. The strap squashed his belly onto the table, which was somewhat uncomfortable. His buttock was no longer elevated. Steve did loosen up again because Magnus continued to move his fingers across Steve’s back.
“Comfortable, Steve?” a familiar male voice questioned at the head of the table.
Steve realized that he couldn’t raise his neck to look at this man because the straps restricted his movement. Then he heard the soft purr of a motor. Steve felt the table gradually tilt. His body was being moved into an upward position. The strap pressed against his ass. The straps were preventing him from slipping to the floor.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Steve yelled.
Steve was now raised enough where his buttock hung slightly over the leather strap. Although his weight had to some extent shifted with the incline of the table, a good deal of his mass was still compressing his plump belly. Steve gasped, as he was now able to see the identity of this man through the opening in the headrest.
“Mr. Jeffers is this some kind of joke?” Steve demanded.
Here was his boss standing in front of him and him butt naked and affixed to a massage table by two beautiful women and a strapping, young stud. This was not the image he wanted to project.
“It’s not a joke at all,” Mr. Jeffers replied. “Not at all.”
What the hell is he doing here? Steve thought.
“You cost me one of my best employees,” Jeffers continued.
Sam Jeffers then told Steve how he had accidentally discovered how Steve was responsible in Bob’s departure from the firm a few months ago. He had done some investigating on his own and had Steve closely watched until he was able to ascertain the full truth.
“I had lunch with Bob a few weeks ago,” Jeffers said. “I really had to push, but I got him to tell me everything.”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Steve tried to explain.
“Oh, really,” Jeffers responded, doubtfully. “I heard what your friends did to you to try to teach you a lesson and you still haven’t learned yet.”
Struggling with his bindings, Steve tried to speak, but Mr. Jeffers held up his hand to silence him.
“You take all the credit for everyone else’s work. Other people in the firm have tried to tell me about you, but I was so enthralled with you, I wouldn’t listen,” Jeffers explained. “Then Bob left with what turns out to be his superior expertise.”
Jeffers shook his head at Steve.
“It appears that you’ve been riding on his coat tails all this time,” Jeffers continued. “I can’t get Bob back. He was clear about wanting to make a fresh start. But, I can also see your worth. For all your faults, you are still able to get the job done.”
Mr. Jeffers squeezed Steve’s ass. Then smacked it hard. Steve winced.
“Now, your ass is mine,” Jeffers proclaimed.
He began to slowly circle Steve’s prone form like a shark swimming around its prey.
“It seems that Tim Oakley, our client, wants to see that we are taking his product line as seriously as some of our larger accounts. He wants to make sure that the people representing him fully understand his products – namely you,” Jeffers said.
“I do understand,” Steve replied. “I understand every nook and cranny.”
“You need to identify with the audience,” Jeffers told him. “So, I want to make you its audience by you tasting the entire product line.”
“Now, wait just one minute,” Steve cut Jeffers off.
Mr. Jeffers smiled wickedly at Steve. He moved his palm from Steve’s rump and began to rub the swell of Steve’s belly, which was forced down against the table.
“I can see Bob and his friends made a good start padding your belly,” Jeffers began. “I guess you thought I didn’t notice how large you swelled up over that particular weekend last year?”
Steve began to sweat profusely. Mr. Jeffers looked like he was really enjoying this.
“But, you need to show Oakley you empathize by accumulating some more mass in that gut of yours by Monday,” Jeffers said. “A more corpulent man may be more credible on this account. It is sort of the reverse of what you were trying to convince me about Bob. Your added weight will be an asset, I think.”
Jeffers began to handle Steve’s ass, thighs, chest, and belly as if he were sizing up a prized hog.
“According to your physical last week, you weighed 245 pounds,” Jeffers began. “That is quite a ways from your original 180 pounds one year ago. Since you seem to be able to put weight on more easily now, getting close to 300 pounds by Monday shouldn’t prove a problem for you.”
“I can’t do that,” Steve blustered.
“Sure you can and you will, “ Jeffers answered. “Your job depends on it.”
