# Pavlov's Diner - by AK the FA (SSBBW, ~XWG)



## AK_the_FA (Oct 5, 2009)

_SSBBW, XWG_


*Pavlovs Diner
*​ *by AK the FA


*​ She didnt know what to make of this place. Set in the middle of nowhere, by that she meant the Allegheny Mountains of Pennsylvania, so near home yet she never knew this place was there. Following a long driveway they came to a professional looking sign with the letters IWG carved in bold blue against the slate background. All and all, with all the trees and mountains, this place seemed a little intimidating, especially to a woman who hadnt been out of her home in nearly a year. 

Leslie and her husband Paul had lived in a teeny, tiny converted double-wide for almost five years. Despite the fact that most people who live in such an environment are either poor or absolutely broke, Paul was making a tidy amount of money at the nearby coal mine as a mid-level executive. Leslie hadnt worked a day in nearly five years. 

The Ford E250 van was built and sold for the purpose of transporting people in wheelchairs comfortably, being fully furnished with a TV, carpet, plush seats and plenty of anchor points for stretchers and what have you. Today, the dark green van with IWG on the side carried some indeed precious cargo. 

Leslie sat on a padded dolly wearing nothing but a bed comforter over her chest and belly, everything else displayed to the world. Her blonde hair was matted and in need of a good washing along with the rest of her, having not taken a proper shower in nearly six months. 
Even now she felt her stomach rumbling from hunger, having not devoured something in the past two hours that it took to drive from their old home to their new one. Paul sat on the floor behind her head, holding her hand and gently stroking her hair. Though he was more nervous than her, he was also anxious to get his wife the care she both needed and deserved. 

Clothes were something that felt weird to her, as she was forces to wear two sheets sewn together as she was cut out, and then wheeled out of her house because none of the doors could fit her. As a matter of fact, even if they managed to get her from her bedroom, the main door out of the trailer wouldnt have been big enough either. So Paul and the nurses who came to collect her revved up the reciprocating saws and cut down a whole wall, exposing Leslie to the sunlight for the first time in a long time. The glow felt good against her pale skin, and the first thing that crossed into her head was that she might have to wear sunscreen if she was to stay out any longer. The men who helped her out, all devout husbands and boyfriends of women like her, were astounded at her size, even more at what she had been such a short time ago. 

Leslie met Paul in Philadelphia about ten years ago. She wasnt very tall, only about 54 to the stark contrast of his 62 build. She wore a size 1, and weighed less than 110 pounds, something she was both proud and ashamed of. She always wished she had curves, hips, thighs, real breasts larger then the diminutive A-cup she wore. Now those jeans she once wore were packed away in a duffel bag in the bed of a large Chevy pick-up following them from their old house. They served as a testament to her growth, along with a bra and panties that sat in a glass picture frame which also contained a collage of old pics of her. Some with Paul, some without. 

The next poster sized picture frame was from when she was 210 pounds, after a hundred pounds of weight was dumped onto her small frame. Like the previous frame, it held a bra, panties, and tons of photos. There were a few more of these, for 300, 400, 500 all the way up to their last recorded weight of 750 pounds. Thats when the scale broke. Two weeks after reaching that milestone Paul helped her out of bed and onto the scale, the numbers flashed four zeroes, then the screen cracked. 

That was two years ago. 

The van came to a gentle stop, and her belly shifted back and forth accordingly. The doors all opened and that was when she got a good feel of her surroundings. The E250 was in a covered loading area and the back end was level with a large platform. With the greatest of care, an orderly slid a pallet jack under her and she was slowly lifted off the vans floor. Paul stood up and grabbed her original framed photo and watched with a curious wonder as his enormous wife was carted down the hall with almost no effort at all, a stark contrast to the exhaustion they both incurred going from bed to bathroom. 

Their first stop was check-in. And to be honest, it reminded her of a very fancy hotel, granite floor, cherry wood desks and well dressed people. The only difference was the distinct lack of doors and normal furniture. Backed benches that looked as though they were made of pure concrete with wood laminate over it, topped with deep cushions and steel rails for support getting down and up. 
The people at the counter leaned over, amazed at the woman they were seeing. Without a word, her medical records were handed over and she was pushed to what looked like wooden garage door. A flick of a switch and it raised up to reveal a long corridor with exceptionally wide doors on both sides. One was open but they went right past it. 
After what felt like a mile, they reached a very bright white walled room. With her husband holding her hand, the pallet was placed on a jack and hoisted up to waist level.
Hi Leslie, how are we feeling today? The voice was calm and soothing, reminding her of a preacher she had heard as a youth. So was his face, warm and kind. 
Im Dr. Huber and Ill be your primary physician for your duration here at the Institute for Weight Gain, my staff and I will assist you in any medical need you may encounter. Today well be running a full physical exam to assess your general health and suggest a healthy gaining plan for you.
Okay was all she managed to say as the comforter was taken off of her and the two orderlies left, leaving just her, the doctor, her husband and three nurses who as if by rote took her blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen levels, and a smattering of other readings before helping her completely get out from on top of the dolly and sitting up for the first time in months. 
Even with her legs spread as far as they could, her thighs still met together under her belly which flowed and wiggled like Jell-O and cascaded forward enveloping her knees and rested comfortably on her fatty shins. Her breasts were the most noticeable part of her, other than the fact that she was almost six feet across at the widest point of her hips. They sat on either side of her bloated belly, and were a few Baconators away from cascading onto the warm tabletop that she sat on. 
Looking up she noticed a flat screen TV bolted to the ceiling. At first she thought it was just a commercial . MacDonalds. Then Wendys, her favorite. She began to remember eating nine Baconators in a single afternoon. Then Burger King, Pizza Hut, Dominos, after a few minutes she realized that all this channel played was food commercials. Even those for individual restaurants, ones from New Jersey, Vermont, Texas, Virginia, California and her stomach began to grumble. Loudly. 
Im very hungry. She stammered; her mouth salivating as the doctors continued to poke and prod and test. 
Leslie, do you know how much you weigh?
No, I dont. When can I get some food, Im famished.
Take a guess. Paul insisted, stunned at the small LED number flashing beyond his wifes field of vision.
Nine hundred? Nine-fifty? Baby I just dont nooooooooooOOOoooooo. She moaned from hunger, or at least what she perceived it as being. 
One thousand four hundred twenty-two pounds, ten ounces. 
Leslie could feel a familiar warmth between her legs, followed by a hot wetness as yet another food commercial came on the TV, which her eyes were now glued to, she couldnt turn away. 
Your blood pressure is 155 over 120, blood sugar level is 202, been having sweets lately havent we?
Oh yes, I had so much chocolate cake yesterday, I thought I was going to pop! The doctor and Paul exchanged knowing looks, both amazed at this young womans growth.
Dr. Huber produced from a cabinet on the wall something warm and gooey covered in foil and gave it to a nurse who stood in front of Leslie and slowly unwrapped it, holding it four feet from her mouth. 
Straining her arms, she tried to lurch forward to get at it, only to be firmly glued to the table by her own body. The one thing she succeeded in doing after several energy-draining heaves was winding herself beyond reason. Her heart rate jumped from 62 to nearly 150 beats per minute in nearly 30 seconds. The nurse brought the burger closer and in a surprisingly fast move for a woman with arms as large as hers, grabbed it and greedily wolfed it down in four massive bites. 
As she looked around, hoping for another bite to eat, several nurses took the platform she was on, lowered it onto the pallet jack once more and brought her out of the room and down the hallway. 
Paul wasnt as nervous today as he usually was when he brought her places, mostly because he knew that all the doors would fit, and none of the chairs had arms to worry about. A limitless supply of food, and the best care the world could offer to a woman who weighed more than ten of these nurses combined. 
From the examination room, she was carted down the hall to another tiled room, but this one was smaller, like a bathroom, and when the door was shut behind them instead of the metallic click of the handle, it sounded more like an airlock from a Sci-Fi movie. 
Now were going to give you a proper bath. Ever been scuba diving?
No, Paul, didnt you go when you were a kid?
Yup, its easy baby, just keep breathing as best you can.
With that, the nurses hit a series of buttons on a control panel to her left and from the ceiling, five masks with hoses were lowered to knee level. Paul grabbed one for himself and the nurse to her right, Marisol, placed it on Leslies face before securing it to her own. Elise, the other nurse, did the same. Something was different about them, they were dressed in scuba-style wetsuits and had handed Paul a pair of swimming trunks which he changed into in a small dressing room off of the bath. 
If its too much for you, squeeze this button and youll be above water in less than ten seconds.
OK. With that, as if on cue, water began to pour out of spigots on the walls into the room. Within a few minutes, it felt warm to the touch on her skin and the added soap tingled ever so slightly. She felt the water rise up past her toes, then hips, then belly, she got worried when it lapped up against her chin, but the soothing warm water brought her at ease as it went past her eyes and swiftly over her head. 
Paul held her hand tight as they both breathed in the cool clean air, letting the tingling water cover them and start to clean her on a very deep level. The attendants began to work with loofa sponges, lifting her rolls and expertly cleansing her body, then working on her tangled and dirty mop of hair until she felt like a whole new woman. 
For the first time in years, she felt light again. She raised her arms, marveled that people could easily clean her rolls in and out without straining themselves at all. It was brilliant, and it was magical. 
After about twenty-five minutes, her hunger building by the second, a water jet was produced from under her table and the last bits of soap were sprayed out of her creases and rolls. Then slowly, the water began to drain out of the room. Soon, she was above water and being carefully dried with soft towels by everyone in attendance. 
Once she was dry, an attendant fetched an apron from a closet and tied it around her fat neck, making sure it covered her chest and a bit of her stomach. 
Truth be told, it was basically useless. It sat between her massive breasts, which were pushed way off to the side, and wouldnt even begin to cover her monster of a belly. Its only real purpose was to measure her senses as she anticipated the oncoming meal. 
Indeed it was quite a reaction, Marisol looked at her Palm Pilot that was recording the readings and noticed an immediate jump in activity in parts of the brain associated with pleasure and happiness. She showed it to Elise and then to Paul, who all smiled at each other, then at Leslie, who had her eyes shut, she could almost envision the food that awaited her down the hall.
Ok baby, are you hungry? Paul asked, knowing the answer. It hadnt changed in years. Even when they both knew she was full to the brim, it was always the same.
Yes baby, Im sooooooo hungry. Marisol looked at the graph on her Pilot, and sure enough, her brain was telling her that she was hungry, and that she would get great satisfaction from the meal to come. 
The dolly beneath her came to life, and they were guided down the hall to a room with was starkly different from the one they had just left.
Wall to wall lush red carpet, paintings on the walls, ornate chairs and couches, coffee tables trimmed with gold leaf and velvet. It reminded her instantly of pictures she had seen of a French royal hall. The centerpiece of the room was a very, very long table, so long she couldnt see the end of it from her perspective so close to the ground. Turn out, it was about seventy-five feet long, four feet wide, and curved at the end, disappearing behind a long red curtain that extended from floor to ceiling.
The paintings were in large wooden frames painted gold, and there were dozens of them. So beautiful, yet so, wait a moment. Botero, Fischl, Renoir They all depicted fat women!
She was pushed towards the end of the table, and on the count of three after being told the process- was lifted off her dolly by a small hydraulic crane and lowered onto a futon of sorts. Her legs were comfortably supported for the first time in a while, she was properly supported upright. The bed was made of very soft velvet and felt good against the bare skin of her ass, hips and thighs. The bed was wheeled over to the end of the table and without warning, from behind the curtain, a slight whirring noise started. Then, the table top  she assumed it was solid wood- began to move and disappear under the edge in front of her. It was a conveyer belt! She could feel herself getting more and more aroused by the second and the smell wafted towards her nostrils. No! Could it be?
From behind the curtain, the a plastic plate with a very tall and greasy cheeseburger next to a yellow carton of French fries and standing proud beside it was a tall and wide cup of Coke, no ice. 
It made its way closer to her watering mouth, too slow for her taste. As soon as it got within reach, she grabbed the hearty Baconator and took a gigantic bite, a gob of cheese landing on her apron. With her left hand she snarfed a fistful of fries and brought them to her mouth, shoving as many in as she could. Barely chewing, just trying to get as much in her as she could to satisfy this hunger that brewed within her belly
As if by magic, just as she was downing her soda, another Baconator, fries, and drink appeared and reached her just as she devoured the last bite of her previous burger. 
Paul stood back and watched with sheer amazement as the process continued. She was insatiable, and must have had ten before Dr. Huber walked in and stood next to him. 
Shes gained a lot lately, especially since the last time we spoke. That had to have been last year sometime?
Probably was. Im looking at her charts and Im not worried, just amazed. Her blood sugar level is the highest Ive seen in months, cholesterol levels are through the roof, nearly two hundred-sixty milligrams per deciliter. Her body-mass-index is almost 230, yours is less than TEN! At the rate shes gaining, shell crest a ton before flipping through his chart April. 
Our anniversary. Hows her respiratory system?
About average for someone her weight. In case you didnt notice, these rooms have a higher oxygen concentration then regular air, hence the hermetically sealed doors and windows. We even have a man here who is considerably larger than her and lives quite comfortably without an oxygen mask. Did she ever smoke?
No, not while I was with her and I dont think she ever did.
Ah, good, shell do just fine then. You took great care of her, Paul.
Eh, I tried my best. She just got too big for our home. You know, well, I guess you do, you cant discuss clients can you?
I think they prefer to be called patients actually. Though this is a research clinic, we also provide healthcare, and have a full staff of doctors and nurses, as you already know. I cant say specifics, but I can tell you this: Ive seen people much larger then Leslie, and some of them are here within these walls, living quite well whereas they wouldnt be able to survive out there due to their size and needs. One thing that Im allowed to say is that the autographed painting of Elvis over there- he pointed to an oil print of The King on the wall behind them.
That was painted by a patient here in 1986, and signed by Elvis Aaron Presley in the same year.
No way, Elvis died in 1977.
Nope, he faked his own death and became a patient here in 1977. Elvis died in 2002 from heart problems at the right bold age of 67 years and nearly 1,700 pounds. He spent the last six years nearly immobile because he fell one day when he was around 800 pounds and broke both his legs and one of his hips. Along with a few torn muscles, he just gave up on mobility and was quite happy to cruise around here in his motorized scooter.
Paul was stunned. He had seen Elvis perform in the mid seventies and was under the illusion that he had died from a drug overdose, like all the great ones. 
Any other stars?
Joselina de Silvia ring a bell?
Was she the Spanish woman who answered the phone when I called last week?
Yup. She stays here for free, she just does the answering service at night. She moved here in September 1996. The locals in Sao Paulo claim that she died in the hospital only because they never saw her leave and we paid the doctor down there a large sum of money to play along with it. Youll meet her tomorrow to discuss billing-
Wait, how much does she weigh?
Youll have to see for yourself. Shes a lot fatter then Dimensions Magazine ever reported her as and she still dresses better than most people here. Our workers just finished loading your things into your new suite, so you can go unpack your bags while she eats here.
No, no, I think I will stay and watch.
Dr. Huber left, leaving them alone together in this fantasy feeding room, a seemingly endless stream of fattening burgers being delivered to her at her very whim. He grabbed one of the red padded chairs and dragged it over towards her bed, and leaving back, watched her wrap her grease and cheese covered fingers around the sides of this titanic burger, bringing it greedily to her awaiting mouth and shoving as much as she could into it. She closed her eyes and chewed the mound, savoring the flavors that surrounded her tongue. 
He knew the expression on her face, the same as their wedding night and countless times after. The way her mouth hung slightly open and she moaned as she swallowed. It was like sex for her. He looked down towards her mammoth breasts and saw that her nipples were indeed hard as pebbles, and under the rolls of fat, he could see a slow, rhythmic churning as she rocked her hips back and forth.
Here baby, let me help you. Paul stood up and climbed onto the bed next to her. Leaning over, he took the burger from her and her arms fell slack at her sides. She wiped her grimy hands on her belly and chest, trying to clean them on the grease, cheese, fat, and bits of French fries that stuck to them. 
He brought it to her mouth and she took a good bite, enjoying every bit of it. He adjusted it to make up for the missing portion and she took another. And another, and another, until it was gone. 
She let forth a small burp, and then took a deep breath, as if to let the almost twenty burgers she had consumed settle in her stomach. Paul leaned his face and kissed her longingly on the lips, letting the food on her face smear all over his own. She opened her mouth wider and French Kissed with the flavor of French fries. 
He could feel her orgasm building, faster and faster, harder and harder, higher and higher. He reached with his left hand and pressed the top of her belly, deeply and slowly rubbing it to the rhythm of her buried hips. 
Her moaning and cooing became faster, louder, and then, she pulled back and exhaled deeply, almost shivering as she did so. Her back and neck went slack and she rolled a few inches back onto the reclined part of the bed behind her. 
I love you she whispered before she was fast asleep. 
Today was the first day of the rest of her life in Paradise. They found Heaven on Earth in their own backyard. 
 








::::::::::::::::::
::Wrote this a year years ago and put it on FantasyFeeder, but find that it's easier to find here. 

Leme know what you think, since I plan on putting up quite a few more that I've written. 

-AK the FA


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## tarquin (Oct 8, 2009)

Very, very good - can't wait to read the rest of your work!


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## FatBlackKitteh (Oct 9, 2009)

If you don't put them up I will run on FF and put them up for you.

This is meant as an incentive.


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## AK_the_FA (Oct 11, 2009)

FatBlackKitteh said:


> If you don't put them up I will run on FF and put them up for you.
> 
> This is meant as an incentive.



I'll try to beat ya to it!

I'm also writing two more stories right now, one i've been at for over a year and the other just a few weeks, plus the others i've got up on FF, I'll work on getting them up here soon, especially with the positive feedback (pardon the pun) I've been gettin here 



-AK the FA


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## GoddessCurvaceous01 (Oct 11, 2009)

Can't wait to read more of your stories <3.


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## AK_the_FA (Oct 11, 2009)

GoddessCurvaceous01 said:


> Can't wait to read more of your stories <3.




Thank you 

I seriously wouldn't consider this to be my finest work, I like to think I've written better ones, especially the one I'm working on that's almost done and the one that's about 30 handwritten pages so far. 

I'll submit some of my others in the next few days, see if you guys like em. 

Until then, leme know what you think of this one, likes, dont likes, i'm open to anything to help me write better. 

-AK the FA


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## Durin (Oct 12, 2009)

Very Good!

Would love to read the other stories you have.

:bow:


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