WRITER'S NOTE: This story is inspired by Will It Never End?, a phenomenal story written about six years ago by feedee4you. Sadly, he has only written a few stories and there are probably a lot of fans who want him to put fingers to keyboard again. Will It Never End? was a gay-themed story, although the author is straight according to his profile. My adaptation has a straight gainer, which is testament to feedee4you's writing skills, because his original story lends itself easily to the viewpoint of gay or straight, male or female, whomever you would like in your mind to be fattened up. I apologize to feedee4you because in a couple of places I have blatantly ripped off his story, but that is because his original text was so well done it was impossible to improve upon, so I adapted it largely intact. Wherever you are feedee4you, I hope you don't mind too much. Plagiarism just proves how good your story was and is still!
* * * * *
What's Happening to Me?
The limo pulled up in front of an old building in the warehouse district of San Francisco where not just the street but the whole neighborhood was totally deserted. My two kidnappers opened the door and motioned me to get out, but I had trouble gaining sufficient momentum to free myself Sent from my iPad
My kidnappers, two young women of Amazonian proportions, one black and one white, both around six feet tall and muscular (and quite sexy I thought if they hadn't been kidnappers), chided me "come on Fatso, you can do it." But despite repeated efforts, I still couldn't gain sufficient momentum to hurl myself out of the car seat. So each of them grabbed a super flabby arm and gave me enough of a tug to get my blubber in motion and bring me to a standing position.
As I did, donut boxes and fast food wrappers fell out on the pavement all around me, evidence of the extreme gluttony I had demonstrated on my trip up from San Jose.
Both women laughed at all the empty containers, with the luscious African-American one asking the other "he really is an eating machine, isn't he?" The other snarkily replied "Fatty here must be on a seafood diet -- he sees food and eats it!" Then she continued "isn't he just the most enormous man you've ever seen?" But then their true intent in kidnapping me became abundantly clear as her partner in crime said "so true sista, he's a total blimp and he's going to be SOOOH much fatter after we get through having fun with him -- what do you think about that Fatty?"
I spoke in my firmest voice -- "what exactly is going on here?
The white kidnapper said "what is going on here Tubby is that you have been kidnapped and we are holding you for $10 million in ransom. And if your skinny bitch wife doesn't pay, we're going to make you so fat she won't recognize you." The black one then said "you'll be a mountain of lard, so fat you'll get stuck in doorways, so fat you'll break furniture, so fat that your wife won't be able to find your dick buried underneath all your blubber." Then the other one laughed and said "I bet she can't find it now!"
I responded with a bit of incredulity, "you know, my wife is far more likely to pay the ransom if you tell her you'll make me LOSE weight if she doesn't pay. If the choice is paying the ransom or returning me to her a little heavier, I bet she'll choose the latter."
Then my black kidnapper said "we wouldn't just make you a little heavier, Fatty. We're talking about fattening you up to 800 pounds. You'd be buried under a mountain of lard so deep she would need to hook your belly to a winch to even have a chance of making love to you!"
Just then, the driver, a big burly guy, probably 6'4" and 250 pounds and probably ripped with muscles under his suit, came to my side and grabbed my ham hock sized upper arm with what felt like a vise grip and led me toward the steel warehouse door. As we got inside the door, the amazons untied the belt on my 10-X robe and ordered me to take it off, then laughed at the massiveness of my belly and boobs and particularly my love handles, which formed a big spare tire that reached around and joined my huge bottom belly roll.
The black one said "538 pounds of pure lard -- I don't see what his wife sees in him -- with all her money she could have a chiseled hunk and she stays married to this blimp!" And the white one said "so right girl, she's a good looking woman, no wonder she is never seen in public any more with this big tub o' lard." I was kind of turned on by their banter, but that last one hurt, I had to admit. I was now so fat that I didn't want to embarrass her by being out in public with her and the business press (not even knowing that I had eaten myself into a quarter ton + of hubby) had taken to referring to me as "the billionaire's reclusive husband."
I was standing there just in my underwear with goose bumps all over my body because it was a brisk San Francisco day, even in the middle of summer, 65 degrees and overcast with wind blowing in. Then the girls told the driver "we'll take it from here." The driver, whom I quickly deduced was gay, asked if he could check me out first and the women smiled knowing smiles and shook their heads yes, telling him that his libido knew no bounds!
"But he's such an enormous Fatty" he uttered to the girls and slid around to my backside, where he squeezed and shook my oversized love handles, then pulled down my underwear to check out my ass, feeling up both cheeks for several awkward seconds. Then he sidled around to my front, first playing with my E-cup sized man boobs (which I thought to be my best feature as they sagged down to the midpoint of my upper belly roll). After that, he paid particular attention to my belly, grabbing my sagging lower belly roll with both hands, lifting and dropping it several times just to see all the ripples and waves it sent through my soft flesh. "This is a magnificent belly and I so want to play with it again once Bambi and Thumper here finish with you." The girls reminded him he needed to go, so he squeezed one of my massive tits and gave it a shake, then slapped me hard on the belly, just to see my blubber ripple and shake one last time.
The girls were having great fun at my expense and were betting each other whether I had an erection under all my belly blubber (even though I was most definitely straight, I did have a raging erection after that and the thought ever so fleetingly crossed my mind of what this guy would do to me if we were alone and whether I'd like it).
Then the driver said bye to the girls, slapped me on the ass cheek again, and said with an evil smirk "have fun Fatso. If your wife doesn't like you at 800 pounds, you can always give me a call."
Then the amazons grabbed me by my upper arm flab and led me toward a freight elevator, my belly slapping against my thighs and my tits a shakin' with each small piggy step I took. My black captor was having great fun watching me wobble along and said to the other "you know, we should be able to get Two Ton here up with the elevator, but I'm not sure it will have enough capacity to get him down again after we're through with him" then she slapped me on the ass. Her counterpart then said "and even if it has enough capacity, he may be too fat to fit through the elevator door."
Just the thought of that turned my erection up in intensity by at least a notch or two!
Earlier That Day
Once I had been an extremely successful corporate attorney in Silicon Valley. At least until I met Lori. She was an uber successful executive at a venerable tech company, i.e., one that had been around three years. She was 30, petite (5'2"), maybe 105 pounds, and beautiful. I was ten years older, 5'10" and a pudgy 230 pounds. We met at a charity event and hit it off immediately, making quite the odd couple, even in a tech world full of fat, nerdy guys.
We were married about a year later and a year after that she moved into the number two spot in the company, making her a billionaire. Not a Bill Gates type of billionaire, but still definitely in the top two or three percent of the top one percent, and enough that she talked me into leaving the law behind and becoming her kept man.
In our two years together, I had ballooned from 230 to 290 pounds and looked absolutely enormous next to mon petite chou. So much so that the society page photographers for the San Jose Mercury and San Jose Magazine loved to snap pictures of us, probably just to show what a fat tub of lard her husband was. But she loved it, asking the photographers for copies which she would frame and put around our house. Occasionally, she would grab the one on our bedside table, show it to me, and comment "I just love how fat you're getting," then she would climb on top of me and show me just how much she loved my newfound fat.
After I left the firm, there started to be a lot more food and snacks around the house. And though neither of us were the types to have servants, Lori soon hired a live-in cook who just happened to be an incredible baker too. Soon, there were cakes and pies and cookies and home made donuts, something new every day for me to chow down on. And the pounds started piling on even faster, usually at least ten pounds a month and eventually closer to twenty a month.
Our last charity outing together, I had weighed about 350 pounds, and a local gossip columnist referred to me in print as the "hyper-obese husband of uber-tech exec Lori James," so I had stopped going out with Lori after that, afraid I'd embarrass her and hinder her career, as she was in line to become CEO of the company.
Undeterred, Lori hired a photographer to come in periodically to make pictures of us together, to replace the old society page shots. When I hit 450 pounds, she had the photographer take some sexy pics too, and framed a four by six foot version of one and hung it opposite our bed so she could look at it while snuggled up next to me.
Once I hit the quarter ton mark, about four months ago, I began expressing concern that my weight was going to affect her ability to become CEO of the company, and planted the seed that maybe I should go to a weight loss spa and start losing some of my bulk. She didn't want to hear of it, but I persisted, and did my research to find a facility down the coast in Santa Barbara that I thought would be appropriate. Finally Lori relented and she took it upon herself to make the arrangements.
Finally the day came for me to depart and the facility sent a stretch limo with two very attractive Amazonian-build women to pick me up and deliver me to Santa Barbara. Lori invited the women in while I finished getting my gear in order. I had long since stopped doing steps, so I took the elevator down to the first floor of our house to meet the women and begin my journey.
I was dressed in some 72 waist shorts, a 9-X polo shirt, and flip flops. Since I was no longer practicing law, I'd let my once short cropped hair grow to shoulder length and had it tied up in a pony tail. And I'd grown a goatee so I looked very Northern California hippie.
My two handlers greeted me and one said "you're overdressed Mr. Jackson" and handed me a big box. I opened it and found a plush bathrobe with the facility's logo emblazoned on the chest pocket. "We want our clientele to be comfortable on the long drive to Santa Barbara and ask that they wear the bathrobe, plus it enables us to get right to work once you arrive. Just leave your underwear on underneath."
Then, the other one mentioned "oh and we need to get an accurate weigh-in for you before you leave." My wife motioned us to follow her and we walked to our first floor exercise room, where she kept my bariatric scale. One of my handlers then asked me to strip down to my underwear for the most accurate weigh-in possible. I was a little hesitant but my wife said "it's not like these women haven't seen a fat man in his underwear before -- they're professionals."
So I did as asked and waddled onto the scale for a most-ever reading of 538 pounds. "Very impressive" I heard one of the women whisper to the other.
Then I put on the robe, which was a 10-X, and it fit like a glove and was oh so comfortable. My wife tied the belt firmly around my waist and gave me a passionate kiss and sent me toward the front door with my handlers.
"Oh, and by the way honey, I asked these young women to ensure that you had some treats for your trip to Santa Barbara. Kind of like one final stuffing before you start losing all these delicious pounds." When I got to the open door of the limo I saw what she meant. There must have been eight dozen boxes of donuts from my favorite donut shop! And then one of the girls said "and we're under strict instructions to drive the limo thru the drive thru at In and Out before we get too far down the road!"
"I love you so much" I told my wife. And she said "I'm gonna miss you and all of your beautiful fat" and gave me another passionate kiss.
I was starving and had already consumed a box and a half of donuts by the time we reached the In and Out Burger drive thru. I heard the driver order six of my favorite breakfast biscuits (how did he know?), plus hash browns, a super sized Coke, and a large chocolate shake. I was salivating at the thought of eating all that, plus the rest of the donuts, before beginning my weight loss regimen.
I was so busy chowing down, while the two lovely women held my shake and my Coke and handed me another biscuit or donut whenever I finished the one before, that I didn't notice that the driver had gone north toward San Francisco rather than south toward Santa Barbara. But after finishing four of the biscuits and half the donuts, I finally looked up from all the food and noticed an exit sign for a town that was north of San Jose.
I motioned one of the women for another donut and asked "why are we headed north?" The African-American beauty just said "keep eating and don't worry about it." That's when I started worrying and said "just tell me why we're going north instead of south." Then my white handler reached into her purse and pulled out a .38 snubby and said "like the girl said, just keep eating Fatty -- we know you love to eat and it's best not to ask any more questions. Let's just say we have different plans for you and leave it at that for now." Then she stuffed a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit in my mouth and said "eat Fatso."
Up The Freight Elevator
The door opened onto the old freight elevator. In the elevator was a small table with a blender full of what looked like weight gain shake. One of the girls said "hope you are hungry, Fatso." And despite my gluttony on the drive up, I was. The elevator door slowly closed and the car started slowly moving upwards. I picked up the container and started chugging down the delicious chocolate shake laced with weight gain powder, my belly and everything else shaking with the vibration of the old hydraulic elevator rising with its heavy fat load.
As I chugged and shook, I began to think about Lori and wondering if this was all a ruse to keep me from losing weight. I recalled that when I hit 350 pounds, she made a comment that she would like to see me get to my "ideal" weight and then put another 200 pounds on me on top of that! I thought it was such a sexy fantasy but I had no idea she might actually be serious about it! If I was 538 pounds now, 200 more pounds on top would make me immense! But maybe that's what she wants and she has paid these young women to make it so, since they are talking about making me 800 pounds!
About the time I finished the shake and the thousands of calories it must have contained, the elevator slammed to a stop and sent my belly and boobs shaking wildly again. I was standing on an empty warehouse floor with no other people in sight.
After consuming the shake, I really needed to go relieve myself and the kidnappers pointed me to the far corner of the floor. "I don't think I can walk that far without a rest" so they motioned me to an oversized chair that had been outfitted with restraints.
While I sat there resting, I said "so your names are Bambi and Thumper, just like the kidnappers in the old Bond film Diamonds Are Forever?" One of them said "that's right Tubby and just like those chicks, if you're not a good fat boy and eat all your meals, or if you try to escape, we're gonna kick you big ***!"
I laughed and said "that movie always gave me fantasies about being held by two beautiful women like that and them fattening me up until I was utterly huge."
"Well Fatty, you're gonna live out that fantasy if your wife doesn't pay."
"Speaking of that, who exactly kidnaps someone and spends a fortune on food to fatten them up, not knowing if the spouse is going to pay up? That's an awfully bad investment if you don't mind me saying so."
"Shut up Blubber Boy and go to the bathroom! Then we're gonna hook you in the chair here and start stuffing that belly until you pop!"
Stuffed to Bursting
When I returned from the bathroom, my captors told me I'd had a tough day so far and that I should take a nap before they commenced stuffing me. So they led me to a king bed and restrained one of my feet to a steel loop screwed into the floor. Then, while one stayed to keep a watch on me, the other left, no doubt to come back later with the food. I was still kind of turned on by what they had in mind for me and wondered just how much food there would be.
I reckoned I had slept for two hours when I heard a loud ruckus and saw one of my captors noisily rolling a food cart off the freight elevator. She was accompanied by another Amazonian woman, this one a lovely Asian, of Chinese origin I guessed. "What's your name," I asked. "None of your ***ing business Lard Ass."
But then, she looked at other two women, and said "damn he is every bit as fat as you told me he would be, and then some." She strode over and undid my restraint and extended a hand to help me get out of bed. She must have been incredibly strong as she had no problem getting me to my feet all by sexy self. Then she led me to the feeding chair and strapped my fat wrists and calves into extra long restraints.
The food cart was industrial-sized, and my white captor slapped my naked ass cheek hard and told me "you are going to burst tonight, Fatty. I bet we've got all your favorite things here and all of them are going in that enormous belly of yours, whether you want them to or not."
Then my sexy black captor said "we've got donuts, eclairs, pastries, shrimp cocktail, lasagna, meatballs, three kinds of potatoes, pork chops with a gallon of gravy and so much more my fat glutton."
"Let's begin ... shall we?"
I was so hard in anticipation of all that food, I shouted "*** YES!"
"Open wide then my fat helpless pig", said the Asian as she took a huge spoon of lasagna and stuffed it into my waiting mouth. It was warm and delicious and went down oh so easily. "That's good" I said and she said "good, then you won't mind eating the entire pan."
She started shoveling spoonfull after spoonfull into my mouth and I eagerly ate it. Soon the pan was empty.
"Very good piggy" she smiled. "That was two pounds of lasagna. But that's just the beginning."
"More" I blurted out, thinking of Lori and how this was probably all her idea to get me enormously fat, 200 pounds above my "perfect" weight, which she must have believed was 600 pounds. Then my black captor, turned feeder, picked up a giant pastry bag.
"Ready for some mashed potatoes and gravy? "Got 3 pounds here", she said. "YES". She placed the tip of the pastry bag in my mouth then stated to squeeze like feeding a baby with a bottle. Soon the bag was empty and my belly was getting so full I didn't know how much longer I could go on.
"Time for a little desert I think", my third feeder said with a smile and from the table she grabbed a huge cherry pie. Then she dumped the whole thing into a huge bowl. Then grabbed another cherry pie ... and a third one. Then she took a huge jug of chocolate fudge topping and covered the three pies with it and started mashing them all together.
"Makes it easier for you too eat. Don't want you to have to chew... just swallow." My heart was pounding in anticipation of tasting the delicious concoction ... and eating every bite. Then she took a huge mixing spoon and started shoveling it into my mouth.
Halfway thru I told her I was gonna burst, but she just kept on shoveling. I was moaning and gasping for breath as she kept forcing spoonful after spoonful into me. When the bowl was finally empty, she took a towel and wiped the remains off my mouth and cheeks and chest.
"How do you feel now?"
"I've gotta take a break -- give me at least a half hour" I begged.
"Very well then, but that's your last break of the evening."
* * * * *
What's Happening to Me?
The limo pulled up in front of an old building in the warehouse district of San Francisco where not just the street but the whole neighborhood was totally deserted. My two kidnappers opened the door and motioned me to get out, but I had trouble gaining sufficient momentum to free myself Sent from my iPad
My kidnappers, two young women of Amazonian proportions, one black and one white, both around six feet tall and muscular (and quite sexy I thought if they hadn't been kidnappers), chided me "come on Fatso, you can do it." But despite repeated efforts, I still couldn't gain sufficient momentum to hurl myself out of the car seat. So each of them grabbed a super flabby arm and gave me enough of a tug to get my blubber in motion and bring me to a standing position.
As I did, donut boxes and fast food wrappers fell out on the pavement all around me, evidence of the extreme gluttony I had demonstrated on my trip up from San Jose.
Both women laughed at all the empty containers, with the luscious African-American one asking the other "he really is an eating machine, isn't he?" The other snarkily replied "Fatty here must be on a seafood diet -- he sees food and eats it!" Then she continued "isn't he just the most enormous man you've ever seen?" But then their true intent in kidnapping me became abundantly clear as her partner in crime said "so true sista, he's a total blimp and he's going to be SOOOH much fatter after we get through having fun with him -- what do you think about that Fatty?"
I spoke in my firmest voice -- "what exactly is going on here?
The white kidnapper said "what is going on here Tubby is that you have been kidnapped and we are holding you for $10 million in ransom. And if your skinny bitch wife doesn't pay, we're going to make you so fat she won't recognize you." The black one then said "you'll be a mountain of lard, so fat you'll get stuck in doorways, so fat you'll break furniture, so fat that your wife won't be able to find your dick buried underneath all your blubber." Then the other one laughed and said "I bet she can't find it now!"
I responded with a bit of incredulity, "you know, my wife is far more likely to pay the ransom if you tell her you'll make me LOSE weight if she doesn't pay. If the choice is paying the ransom or returning me to her a little heavier, I bet she'll choose the latter."
Then my black kidnapper said "we wouldn't just make you a little heavier, Fatty. We're talking about fattening you up to 800 pounds. You'd be buried under a mountain of lard so deep she would need to hook your belly to a winch to even have a chance of making love to you!"
Just then, the driver, a big burly guy, probably 6'4" and 250 pounds and probably ripped with muscles under his suit, came to my side and grabbed my ham hock sized upper arm with what felt like a vise grip and led me toward the steel warehouse door. As we got inside the door, the amazons untied the belt on my 10-X robe and ordered me to take it off, then laughed at the massiveness of my belly and boobs and particularly my love handles, which formed a big spare tire that reached around and joined my huge bottom belly roll.
The black one said "538 pounds of pure lard -- I don't see what his wife sees in him -- with all her money she could have a chiseled hunk and she stays married to this blimp!" And the white one said "so right girl, she's a good looking woman, no wonder she is never seen in public any more with this big tub o' lard." I was kind of turned on by their banter, but that last one hurt, I had to admit. I was now so fat that I didn't want to embarrass her by being out in public with her and the business press (not even knowing that I had eaten myself into a quarter ton + of hubby) had taken to referring to me as "the billionaire's reclusive husband."
I was standing there just in my underwear with goose bumps all over my body because it was a brisk San Francisco day, even in the middle of summer, 65 degrees and overcast with wind blowing in. Then the girls told the driver "we'll take it from here." The driver, whom I quickly deduced was gay, asked if he could check me out first and the women smiled knowing smiles and shook their heads yes, telling him that his libido knew no bounds!
"But he's such an enormous Fatty" he uttered to the girls and slid around to my backside, where he squeezed and shook my oversized love handles, then pulled down my underwear to check out my ass, feeling up both cheeks for several awkward seconds. Then he sidled around to my front, first playing with my E-cup sized man boobs (which I thought to be my best feature as they sagged down to the midpoint of my upper belly roll). After that, he paid particular attention to my belly, grabbing my sagging lower belly roll with both hands, lifting and dropping it several times just to see all the ripples and waves it sent through my soft flesh. "This is a magnificent belly and I so want to play with it again once Bambi and Thumper here finish with you." The girls reminded him he needed to go, so he squeezed one of my massive tits and gave it a shake, then slapped me hard on the belly, just to see my blubber ripple and shake one last time.
The girls were having great fun at my expense and were betting each other whether I had an erection under all my belly blubber (even though I was most definitely straight, I did have a raging erection after that and the thought ever so fleetingly crossed my mind of what this guy would do to me if we were alone and whether I'd like it).
Then the driver said bye to the girls, slapped me on the ass cheek again, and said with an evil smirk "have fun Fatso. If your wife doesn't like you at 800 pounds, you can always give me a call."
Then the amazons grabbed me by my upper arm flab and led me toward a freight elevator, my belly slapping against my thighs and my tits a shakin' with each small piggy step I took. My black captor was having great fun watching me wobble along and said to the other "you know, we should be able to get Two Ton here up with the elevator, but I'm not sure it will have enough capacity to get him down again after we're through with him" then she slapped me on the ass. Her counterpart then said "and even if it has enough capacity, he may be too fat to fit through the elevator door."
Just the thought of that turned my erection up in intensity by at least a notch or two!
Earlier That Day
Once I had been an extremely successful corporate attorney in Silicon Valley. At least until I met Lori. She was an uber successful executive at a venerable tech company, i.e., one that had been around three years. She was 30, petite (5'2"), maybe 105 pounds, and beautiful. I was ten years older, 5'10" and a pudgy 230 pounds. We met at a charity event and hit it off immediately, making quite the odd couple, even in a tech world full of fat, nerdy guys.
We were married about a year later and a year after that she moved into the number two spot in the company, making her a billionaire. Not a Bill Gates type of billionaire, but still definitely in the top two or three percent of the top one percent, and enough that she talked me into leaving the law behind and becoming her kept man.
In our two years together, I had ballooned from 230 to 290 pounds and looked absolutely enormous next to mon petite chou. So much so that the society page photographers for the San Jose Mercury and San Jose Magazine loved to snap pictures of us, probably just to show what a fat tub of lard her husband was. But she loved it, asking the photographers for copies which she would frame and put around our house. Occasionally, she would grab the one on our bedside table, show it to me, and comment "I just love how fat you're getting," then she would climb on top of me and show me just how much she loved my newfound fat.
After I left the firm, there started to be a lot more food and snacks around the house. And though neither of us were the types to have servants, Lori soon hired a live-in cook who just happened to be an incredible baker too. Soon, there were cakes and pies and cookies and home made donuts, something new every day for me to chow down on. And the pounds started piling on even faster, usually at least ten pounds a month and eventually closer to twenty a month.
Our last charity outing together, I had weighed about 350 pounds, and a local gossip columnist referred to me in print as the "hyper-obese husband of uber-tech exec Lori James," so I had stopped going out with Lori after that, afraid I'd embarrass her and hinder her career, as she was in line to become CEO of the company.
Undeterred, Lori hired a photographer to come in periodically to make pictures of us together, to replace the old society page shots. When I hit 450 pounds, she had the photographer take some sexy pics too, and framed a four by six foot version of one and hung it opposite our bed so she could look at it while snuggled up next to me.
Once I hit the quarter ton mark, about four months ago, I began expressing concern that my weight was going to affect her ability to become CEO of the company, and planted the seed that maybe I should go to a weight loss spa and start losing some of my bulk. She didn't want to hear of it, but I persisted, and did my research to find a facility down the coast in Santa Barbara that I thought would be appropriate. Finally Lori relented and she took it upon herself to make the arrangements.
Finally the day came for me to depart and the facility sent a stretch limo with two very attractive Amazonian-build women to pick me up and deliver me to Santa Barbara. Lori invited the women in while I finished getting my gear in order. I had long since stopped doing steps, so I took the elevator down to the first floor of our house to meet the women and begin my journey.
I was dressed in some 72 waist shorts, a 9-X polo shirt, and flip flops. Since I was no longer practicing law, I'd let my once short cropped hair grow to shoulder length and had it tied up in a pony tail. And I'd grown a goatee so I looked very Northern California hippie.
My two handlers greeted me and one said "you're overdressed Mr. Jackson" and handed me a big box. I opened it and found a plush bathrobe with the facility's logo emblazoned on the chest pocket. "We want our clientele to be comfortable on the long drive to Santa Barbara and ask that they wear the bathrobe, plus it enables us to get right to work once you arrive. Just leave your underwear on underneath."
Then, the other one mentioned "oh and we need to get an accurate weigh-in for you before you leave." My wife motioned us to follow her and we walked to our first floor exercise room, where she kept my bariatric scale. One of my handlers then asked me to strip down to my underwear for the most accurate weigh-in possible. I was a little hesitant but my wife said "it's not like these women haven't seen a fat man in his underwear before -- they're professionals."
So I did as asked and waddled onto the scale for a most-ever reading of 538 pounds. "Very impressive" I heard one of the women whisper to the other.
Then I put on the robe, which was a 10-X, and it fit like a glove and was oh so comfortable. My wife tied the belt firmly around my waist and gave me a passionate kiss and sent me toward the front door with my handlers.
"Oh, and by the way honey, I asked these young women to ensure that you had some treats for your trip to Santa Barbara. Kind of like one final stuffing before you start losing all these delicious pounds." When I got to the open door of the limo I saw what she meant. There must have been eight dozen boxes of donuts from my favorite donut shop! And then one of the girls said "and we're under strict instructions to drive the limo thru the drive thru at In and Out before we get too far down the road!"
"I love you so much" I told my wife. And she said "I'm gonna miss you and all of your beautiful fat" and gave me another passionate kiss.
I was starving and had already consumed a box and a half of donuts by the time we reached the In and Out Burger drive thru. I heard the driver order six of my favorite breakfast biscuits (how did he know?), plus hash browns, a super sized Coke, and a large chocolate shake. I was salivating at the thought of eating all that, plus the rest of the donuts, before beginning my weight loss regimen.
I was so busy chowing down, while the two lovely women held my shake and my Coke and handed me another biscuit or donut whenever I finished the one before, that I didn't notice that the driver had gone north toward San Francisco rather than south toward Santa Barbara. But after finishing four of the biscuits and half the donuts, I finally looked up from all the food and noticed an exit sign for a town that was north of San Jose.
I motioned one of the women for another donut and asked "why are we headed north?" The African-American beauty just said "keep eating and don't worry about it." That's when I started worrying and said "just tell me why we're going north instead of south." Then my white handler reached into her purse and pulled out a .38 snubby and said "like the girl said, just keep eating Fatty -- we know you love to eat and it's best not to ask any more questions. Let's just say we have different plans for you and leave it at that for now." Then she stuffed a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit in my mouth and said "eat Fatso."
Up The Freight Elevator
The door opened onto the old freight elevator. In the elevator was a small table with a blender full of what looked like weight gain shake. One of the girls said "hope you are hungry, Fatso." And despite my gluttony on the drive up, I was. The elevator door slowly closed and the car started slowly moving upwards. I picked up the container and started chugging down the delicious chocolate shake laced with weight gain powder, my belly and everything else shaking with the vibration of the old hydraulic elevator rising with its heavy fat load.
As I chugged and shook, I began to think about Lori and wondering if this was all a ruse to keep me from losing weight. I recalled that when I hit 350 pounds, she made a comment that she would like to see me get to my "ideal" weight and then put another 200 pounds on me on top of that! I thought it was such a sexy fantasy but I had no idea she might actually be serious about it! If I was 538 pounds now, 200 more pounds on top would make me immense! But maybe that's what she wants and she has paid these young women to make it so, since they are talking about making me 800 pounds!
About the time I finished the shake and the thousands of calories it must have contained, the elevator slammed to a stop and sent my belly and boobs shaking wildly again. I was standing on an empty warehouse floor with no other people in sight.
After consuming the shake, I really needed to go relieve myself and the kidnappers pointed me to the far corner of the floor. "I don't think I can walk that far without a rest" so they motioned me to an oversized chair that had been outfitted with restraints.
While I sat there resting, I said "so your names are Bambi and Thumper, just like the kidnappers in the old Bond film Diamonds Are Forever?" One of them said "that's right Tubby and just like those chicks, if you're not a good fat boy and eat all your meals, or if you try to escape, we're gonna kick you big ***!"
I laughed and said "that movie always gave me fantasies about being held by two beautiful women like that and them fattening me up until I was utterly huge."
"Well Fatty, you're gonna live out that fantasy if your wife doesn't pay."
"Speaking of that, who exactly kidnaps someone and spends a fortune on food to fatten them up, not knowing if the spouse is going to pay up? That's an awfully bad investment if you don't mind me saying so."
"Shut up Blubber Boy and go to the bathroom! Then we're gonna hook you in the chair here and start stuffing that belly until you pop!"
Stuffed to Bursting
When I returned from the bathroom, my captors told me I'd had a tough day so far and that I should take a nap before they commenced stuffing me. So they led me to a king bed and restrained one of my feet to a steel loop screwed into the floor. Then, while one stayed to keep a watch on me, the other left, no doubt to come back later with the food. I was still kind of turned on by what they had in mind for me and wondered just how much food there would be.
I reckoned I had slept for two hours when I heard a loud ruckus and saw one of my captors noisily rolling a food cart off the freight elevator. She was accompanied by another Amazonian woman, this one a lovely Asian, of Chinese origin I guessed. "What's your name," I asked. "None of your ***ing business Lard Ass."
But then, she looked at other two women, and said "damn he is every bit as fat as you told me he would be, and then some." She strode over and undid my restraint and extended a hand to help me get out of bed. She must have been incredibly strong as she had no problem getting me to my feet all by sexy self. Then she led me to the feeding chair and strapped my fat wrists and calves into extra long restraints.
The food cart was industrial-sized, and my white captor slapped my naked ass cheek hard and told me "you are going to burst tonight, Fatty. I bet we've got all your favorite things here and all of them are going in that enormous belly of yours, whether you want them to or not."
Then my sexy black captor said "we've got donuts, eclairs, pastries, shrimp cocktail, lasagna, meatballs, three kinds of potatoes, pork chops with a gallon of gravy and so much more my fat glutton."
"Let's begin ... shall we?"
I was so hard in anticipation of all that food, I shouted "*** YES!"
"Open wide then my fat helpless pig", said the Asian as she took a huge spoon of lasagna and stuffed it into my waiting mouth. It was warm and delicious and went down oh so easily. "That's good" I said and she said "good, then you won't mind eating the entire pan."
She started shoveling spoonfull after spoonfull into my mouth and I eagerly ate it. Soon the pan was empty.
"Very good piggy" she smiled. "That was two pounds of lasagna. But that's just the beginning."
"More" I blurted out, thinking of Lori and how this was probably all her idea to get me enormously fat, 200 pounds above my "perfect" weight, which she must have believed was 600 pounds. Then my black captor, turned feeder, picked up a giant pastry bag.
"Ready for some mashed potatoes and gravy? "Got 3 pounds here", she said. "YES". She placed the tip of the pastry bag in my mouth then stated to squeeze like feeding a baby with a bottle. Soon the bag was empty and my belly was getting so full I didn't know how much longer I could go on.
"Time for a little desert I think", my third feeder said with a smile and from the table she grabbed a huge cherry pie. Then she dumped the whole thing into a huge bowl. Then grabbed another cherry pie ... and a third one. Then she took a huge jug of chocolate fudge topping and covered the three pies with it and started mashing them all together.
"Makes it easier for you too eat. Don't want you to have to chew... just swallow." My heart was pounding in anticipation of tasting the delicious concoction ... and eating every bite. Then she took a huge mixing spoon and started shoveling it into my mouth.
Halfway thru I told her I was gonna burst, but she just kept on shoveling. I was moaning and gasping for breath as she kept forcing spoonful after spoonful into me. When the bowl was finally empty, she took a towel and wiped the remains off my mouth and cheeks and chest.
"How do you feel now?"
"I've gotta take a break -- give me at least a half hour" I begged.
"Very well then, but that's your last break of the evening."
