Blame Picasso
Well-Known Member
SSBBW (multiple), Romance, Stuffing, ~Sex, ~MWG - a girl out to snag a guy gets educated and changes her target; her stand-in coach winds up being captain of more than he ever expected
Part 1
My friend and business partner, Dante, and I sat in a booth in the basement bar at The Edgewater Inn in Pine Beach, New Jersey.
"I just liked her better back when she had a little more meat on her bones," said Dante, eyeing his girlfriend Tammy, who was standing at the bar waiting for her light beer.
"Yeah," I replied absently, not really comfortable to be talking about Tammy while she was just a few feet away. I did remember the way she looked a year ago, before she started working at the health spa. She seemed healthier and happier then.
Tammy returned with her beer and sat down next to Dante. I sipped my Guinness.
"Man," I thought to myself, "she has slimmed down; she must have lost 20 pounds this year."
Tammy had in fact, lost 30 pounds since she started the diet that the spa had recommended for her. It was not necessarily required that she had to lose weight at her job, but it was kind of implied. It was a fitness center after all.
Tammy went along with it because she thought that losing weight would make her look sexier to Dante and she loved him dearly. Lately she felt that he seemed kind of distant and didn't seem as interested in her as before and this confused her. She wore a tight, sleeveless red tank top that showed her colorfully tattooed shoulder and a pair of tight faded blue jeans with a tear on the knee. Black high top Converse All-Stars completed her outfit. Tammy thought she looked hot.
“I’ve got to pee,” she remarked and grabbed her small bag and headed for the stairs that led up to the rest room.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Dante put down his beer and said. "You know, this may sound kind of strange to you but I used to have this dream about Tammy. I dreamed that we got married and that she got fatter and fatter."
"So," I questioned, "what's strange about that?"
"Well", he replied, "the thing is in my dream I loved her that way, don't you think that's a little strange?"
"Not really." I replied. "Lots of guys dig curvy women. I know I do."
Dante kind of scowled and finished his beer.
“You need another one?” He asked.
I downed the last of my Guinness and slid the empty pint glass over to him. “Hit me.”
By the time Dante returned with the beers, Tammy was heading back to the table and the conversation turned to movies and other topics that were not Tammy’s shrinking figure.
Two days later I was sitting alone at the bar in the same room. I had just finished working on a painting for a surf shop on the shore and had been there about an hour when in walked Tammy. She sat next to me and ordered herself a light beer. "Do you mind if I sit down for a while and talk?"
"Not at all." I said. "What’s on your mind?"
I turned to look at her. She wore a white blouse and a leather skirt. Her legs were encased in dark panty hose and she wore a pair of black pumps. I figured she was going out somewhere fancier than the Edgewater later judging by her outfit, she certainly wasn’t dressed from the spa.
Tammy was a beautiful girl. She was 20 years old, about 115 pounds at five foot two. Her hair was sandy blond with darker streaks. Her brown eyes were large and hypnotic. She had a perfect nose and pouty lips that surrounded a beautiful smile. She still had nice boobs, though they were smaller from her weight loss than they were a year ago. She used to have a nice, round, killer rack. Her tiny behind made the men look twice from their seats further down the bar though.
"Dante left this morning for Colorado on business,” she stated and a tear rolled down her cheek.
“It’s okay.” I said, stroking her shoulder. “That’s the snow board deal he was hoping for, that’s actually great news.”
I meant that, he was the business guy and I was the designer. If he got the contract I would be designing the boards. I figured he’d be calling me tonight.
“He wants to give our relationship a rest." She spat and began to cry, I got up and held her.
"I don't understand what happened, but he said that you do." Her brown eyes looked at me accusingly and tears streaming down her face.
"Please tell me what's wrong. I have tried to get him to, but he wont tell me."
I sat back down in my stool and after a few minutes thought I finally said, "It’s…your appearance that bothers him."
"My appearance?" she asked, getting angry now. “What the heck do you mean my appearance?”
"Well, yeah. Please calm down.” I whispered, looking around. Luckily, the place was almost empty. That’s why I liked the basement, all of the yuppies hung out upstairs. The artists and reprobates like me stayed downstairs.
She blew her nose and then she went on. "I've changed my hair, my makeup, and I even went on a diet and lost thirty pounds of ugly fat for him. Can you tell me just what I did wrong?"
After some hesitation I told Tammy about Dante's fantasy dreams and how her weight loss was just the opposite transformation that she needed to turn him on.
"Well", she growled. "I won't get fat again, even for him," and with that she got up and stormed out of the bar.
It was about a week later and I was watching the Simpson’s when I heard the doorbell ring. It was Tammy and she had tears in her pretty eyes and a piece of paper in her hand.
"What's the matter Tammy?" I asked.
"I got this email from Dante today."
I took the paper in my hand and read it. In it, Dante told her about his fantasies and how he wished things were different. He said he was sorry, but that he just knew he couldn't be satisfied sexually with her being so thin.
He ended the email assuring her that he still loved her and that he would like to see her when he came back in two months to gather his things for his final move out west.
I had been in contact with him by phone and by email as well, but he was all business with me. He hadn’t even mentioned Tammy to me, and I didn’t bring her up. Regardless of the deal in Colorado, I was staying in New Jersey; I could do all my work by email and UPS anyway. I had a design studio in my house and that’s the way I liked to work. We still had a bunch of clients here that I had to worry about anyway.
"So what do you plan to do about all this?" I asked.
Tammy was silent for a long time. Finally she looked me in the eye and stated. "Well, I still love him, and I think he loves me. I'm going to get as fat as I can get in two month's time. Will you help me?"
Needless to say, being the nice guy that I am, I agreed to help fatten her up without batting an eye.
Tammy wanted me as her personal coach in this matter and allowed me full control over her life for the next two months. She decided to quit her job at the spa because working there would be detrimental to her progress. They expected her to be fit and in shape. Besides, working all day wouldn't allow her to spend all of her time eating.
She had enough in her savings to pay for the large amounts of the fattening foods that she figured it would take to get the desired Amount of fat that I, or rather, we hoped to pile on her. Tammy still lived with her parents and I figured they would become an obstacle to our plan, so I offered to let her stay in at my house. This meant that I would sleep in the master bedroom and it had a stairway up to a loft that I used for working.
As for Tammy. there was a second, large bedroom that just had crap piled in it as storage. I could have it cleaned out and painted for her over the weekend. She would have her own bathroom. Downstairs was a large living room and kitchen with a dining room not to mention the garage and full basement.
The following Sunday night she showed up at my door with several suitcases and her laptop computer. I brought her bags in and led her up the bedroom. It still smelled of paint. I had painted the room a sand color with sea-foam trim. A large white fan spun slowly above a queen-sized bed with a coral comforter on it. I loved the beach and most of the house was decorated in seashore themes.
“I love it.” She exclaimed, throwing her arms around my neck and hugging me tightly. She spent Monday unpacking and decorating her room and bathroom while I worked upstairs. I traded emails with Dante and even spoke to him on the phone, yet I told him nothing about Tammy or her plan.
I decided to quit for the day about 2:00pm and went down to make a shopping list. Tammy came to the supermarket and a large discount warehouse with me. We returned about 5:00 with enough food for an army. She started putting things away in the freezer and pantry while I started cooking. When she was done I chased her out to go make sure all of her bills and everything were updated online with her new address.
Two hours later, Tammy stood at the entryway to the dining room, staring at the table loaded with the first of many huge meals she would put away. She was wearing cut-off jeans and a blue tank top that was pulled up under her perfect breasts exposing her flat tummy and shallow belly button around which I could see faint stretch marks from when she was plump before. I thought to myself, it wouldn’t be long before I have those stretch marks splitting at the seams.
She walked over, stood by the table, examined the feast I had laid out for her, and said, "I don't know if I can go through with this."
She then started heading for the door.
Quickly I countered, "Do you want Dante back or not? Don't you love him?"
"Yes, yes," she said, with tears starting to run down her slim model-like face.
"Then come back, sit down and enjoy. There are worse things in life than a good meal!" As Tammy walked over to the table and was about to sit down she patted her flat tummy and looked down at her feet and sighed, "I guess before long I'll be back to my old chubby self again."
Finally, she sat and began to eat. I wasn’t Italian, but I loved to cook Italian food. Tammy was Italian and she complimented my cooking with a mouth full of spaghetti. She finished the huge bowl of pasta and followed it with fish and chicken and several meatballs. After an hour she sat back and rubbed her full stomach. It was a little distended from her big meal, but she was far from finished.
“Oh wowod, Bill, I’m so full.” She burped quietly into her napkin. “That’s it for now, I can’t eat anymore.”
“Take a break.” I replied clearing the dirty dishes.
“You can, and you will, eat more.” I reassured her with a wicked grin. She just smiled weakly.
“You’re the boss.”
“Coach.” I said as I walked into the kitchen. I returned with a platter of lasagna and a basket of hot garlic bread. I poured her a glass of Merlot and had one myself. I also refilled her tall glass of Pepsi with ice.
Forty-five minutes later the bread was gone along with a quarter of the huge pan of lasagna. Her soda was empty as was her wine and she was visibly uncomfortable, her belly was stretched out as though she were four months pregnant. She pushed away from the table and belched loudly.
That first day was not as productive as I had hoped, but I couldn't complain too much. After all she had eaten quite a lot considering the shrunken state of her stomach. I was hoping she would have finished the lasagna.
Tammy staggered to the couch and fell asleep. It was eight o’clock, I decided I’d give her until ten to sleep and then serve dessert. I left her asleep on the couch and I cleaned the kitchen. When that was done, I went upstairs to my loft and painted for a while.
At ten o’clock, I woke her up with a thick brownie sundae covered in hot fudge and whipped cream. I had four cherries on top because I figured it was four times as big as a large would have been in an ice cream shop.
After much pushing and some quite unladylike belching (which kind of delighted and shocked me at the same time) she finally got it all down and complained: "I feel completely bloated. Why do I have to eat so much?"
I replied, "Because you want to put on as much weight as you can by the time Dante comes home."
Tammy couldn’t argue with that and she lied down on the couch to watch some television and fell back to sleep. I covered her in a blanket and went upstairs to my painting.
By the second week, Tammy was starting to get into my increasingly strict "diet" plan with more vigor and I was helping her become more efficient in her eating habits as well as feeding her myself. I got up in the morning to prepare a large breakfast of six eggs and 18 slices of bacon. After this was consumed, I would then assist her in eating up as many pancakes as could be stuffed into her face. I would soak them in butter, shove one in and then pour in a few ounces of rich fattening maple syrup, taking care not to choke her.
This usually lasted about three hours, giving her time to make room between gorging. Then before I'd go upstairs and do some work, I would make sure that plenty of fattening goodies were at hand to tide her over till lunch time.
About noon, I'd go down to the local Wendy’s or MacDonald’s fast food and get several double cheeseburgers, large fries, and two or three large frosties. Then I'd head for home to feed her as much of these as she could handle.
Tammy would usually lie around the rest of the afternoon, nibble on sweets and cookies, and digest to make room for a good, solid supper. When I got done work for the day she was usually asleep in her room or on the couch. The thought of her laying around while her ever expanding, stomach processed burgers and pancakes into succulent mounds of fat turned me on immensely, though I could never tell her that.
"Dinner is ready Tammy!" I announced.
"0K, I'm coming" she replied. As Tammy stepped through the door into the dining room on the Monday evening of the third week, she yawned and stretched her arms upward. It was becoming more and more obvious that all of the many thousands of calories that she had been ingesting over the past two weeks were beginning to show. Her flat tummy had become a pudgy roll that along with her increasing hips was pushing out over the top of her cutoff jeans that had begun to split the seams.
As she started towards the food-laden table she noticed my looking at her fat rolls and crooned in a mocking little girl voice: "You like Tammy’s little plump tummy?" Then she patted a small handful of tummy fat, laughed at my obvious embarrassment and sat down to eat. Supper was a large-scale event and she sat back in her chair and began to shovel and pour in the poundage-adding food.
"Have some more dressing Tam!" And how about a little gravy to wash it down?" I'd urge her on.
And she would grunt, "Yes! More!"
As I poured in gravy, it ran down her chin. When she wiped it away I noticed that she had started a second chin.
"Now I would love some of that chocolate cream pie!" she purred after a meal much larger than the one I prepared her first night.
"You’ve got it, kid,” I agreed.
As she began to spoon the rich, creamy pie into her mouth I gathered my courage and announced. "I'm taking the next three weeks off from my job to work on you full-time, and, frankly, I intend to keep you so stuffed you won't be able to move. You will become so fat, Dante won't know who you are when he sees you."
As I set the empty pie plate aside and began cutting another loaf of bread to soak in a bowl of butter, she said, "It will be nice to have you down here with me all day long."
Then she did something I never expected, she touched my face with her hand, looked into my eyes and whispered. "I'm going to do real good for you."
Tammy lifted up her T-shirt and poked at her little two week old fat roll, "Real good..."
My time off started the following Saturday morning, and I started by getting up early and cooking her a breakfast large enough for four grown men. Twelve eggs, toast with lots of butter, two packages of bacon, two boxes of sausage, hash browns and a large stack of pancakes sat steaming on the table as she came down.
I had brought the bathroom scale down and set it beside her chair. “Good morning, busy beaver.”
Tammy greeted me, looking at all of the food and the scale sitting out. I had mounted a calendar on the refrigerator to monitor her meals and weight. I had marked 115 pounds on the day we started. It would be three weeks to the day in two days. Tammy stepped on the scale and was shocked when it stopped at 132.
“Incrediblet, Billy, I can barely believe this,,.” She whispered looking up at me. She had never called me Billy before, not many people did. I liked it, a lot, but I didn’t say anything. I just looked at her. She was wearing one of her t-shirts that was loose when we started, it was tight now, stretched over her growing breasts. Her belly was rounded and it also stretched the thin material. Tammy rarely wore a bra after the first week or so; I knew this was because she had outgrown the ones she had. Her nipples were erect and I turned away so as not to stare. The sweatpants she had slept in were also getting tight around her behind and thighs.
“132, seventeen pounds in 19 days.” I said as I wrote the number on the calendar. “Not bad, but we can do better.”
Tammy sat down, a little dazed at the increase in her weight.
“It took me four months to lose that much weight,” she said quietly.
“Well, that’s not really an issue now, is it?” I asked, hoping she wasn’t going to waver.
“Nope!” Tammy responded with a wicked grin and she went at that food as if there was no tomorrow. Her appetite seemed to increase by the day and her face was constantly being stuffed.
Things really began to move during that first weekend I was off work with her. By Monday, our three-week anniversary, Tammy asked me to weigh her again.
“138 pounds, wow, six pounds in two days!” I announced and she was beaming.
“Three pounds a day? I want to start weighing every day.” Tammy stated.
“How about breakfast?” I asked as I poured pancake batter into a large skillet.
Tammy rubbed her soft belly. “I’m starving today.”
“Not for long.” I said wickedly and Tammy laughed.
Weighing herself everyday is the catalyst that really motivated Tammy. She couldn’t realistically expect to gain three pounds every day, but she did make gains of three pounds a day for a couple of more days, then dropped to one or two pounds and finally, by midway through the second week I was off all day with her, she pulled an amazing five pound gain!
That Thursday, she stepped on the scale in one of my t-shirts and it stopped at 151 pounds. We just stared at each other. She suddenly threw her arms around me.
“Five pounds? In a day? No way!” she exclaimed. I just hugged her and beamed with excitement. Tammy had earned that five pounds.
I had started her out with eight huge chocolate chip pancakes dripping with butter, syrup and surrounded by sausage and bacon. She finished that by 9:00am and we went into the family room to watch movies all day. I had the Godfather parts one and two. We both hate part three so I skipped it.
She snacked on a couple of boxes of Pop Tarts and a gallon of chocolate ice cream until lunch. I picked her up two large meatball Parmesan sandwiches from the local pizza shop for lunch and two bottles of Pepsi. She consumed all of it. She then snacked on pretzels, potato chips (one bag of each) and two sour cream containers of onion dip all afternoon until dinner.
Dinner was a smorgasbord of potato peirogies, German sausage, kielbasa, mashed potatoes and hearty black bread from the German butcher a few miles away. Her dessert last consisted of another one of my special sundaes covered in thick, hot fudge and whipped cream. Since the first one I had made for her had four cherries on it because it was four times as big as a large in an ice cream store, this one had six cherries. She ate it all with out complaining and fell sound asleep on the couch when she was done.
I sat in the recliner across the room from the couch where she slept and watched her for a while. Her back was to me; I had placed a blanket of her. I looked in amazement at how much that blanket curved up to cover her ass. It was getting huge.
Now she stood before me in one of my t-shirts that was tight over her breasts and belly and stretched down to try and cover her ass. I could still see her purple panties; the shirt wasn’t long enough to cover them. Tammy had put back the thirty pounds she had lost and added another six pounds to her frame in six weeks!
“What’s for breakfast?” she inquired with a smile, rubbing her soft belly in anticipation.
(continued in post six of this thread)
Tammy Got Fat
By Casso with thanks to H. Runkle
(Based on a migrated but incomplete story from the Dimension's
Weight Room collection which now may be found here)
By Casso with thanks to H. Runkle
(Based on a migrated but incomplete story from the Dimension's
Weight Room collection which now may be found here)
Part 1
My friend and business partner, Dante, and I sat in a booth in the basement bar at The Edgewater Inn in Pine Beach, New Jersey.
"I just liked her better back when she had a little more meat on her bones," said Dante, eyeing his girlfriend Tammy, who was standing at the bar waiting for her light beer.
"Yeah," I replied absently, not really comfortable to be talking about Tammy while she was just a few feet away. I did remember the way she looked a year ago, before she started working at the health spa. She seemed healthier and happier then.
Tammy returned with her beer and sat down next to Dante. I sipped my Guinness.
"Man," I thought to myself, "she has slimmed down; she must have lost 20 pounds this year."
Tammy had in fact, lost 30 pounds since she started the diet that the spa had recommended for her. It was not necessarily required that she had to lose weight at her job, but it was kind of implied. It was a fitness center after all.
Tammy went along with it because she thought that losing weight would make her look sexier to Dante and she loved him dearly. Lately she felt that he seemed kind of distant and didn't seem as interested in her as before and this confused her. She wore a tight, sleeveless red tank top that showed her colorfully tattooed shoulder and a pair of tight faded blue jeans with a tear on the knee. Black high top Converse All-Stars completed her outfit. Tammy thought she looked hot.
“I’ve got to pee,” she remarked and grabbed her small bag and headed for the stairs that led up to the rest room.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Dante put down his beer and said. "You know, this may sound kind of strange to you but I used to have this dream about Tammy. I dreamed that we got married and that she got fatter and fatter."
"So," I questioned, "what's strange about that?"
"Well", he replied, "the thing is in my dream I loved her that way, don't you think that's a little strange?"
"Not really." I replied. "Lots of guys dig curvy women. I know I do."
Dante kind of scowled and finished his beer.
“You need another one?” He asked.
I downed the last of my Guinness and slid the empty pint glass over to him. “Hit me.”
By the time Dante returned with the beers, Tammy was heading back to the table and the conversation turned to movies and other topics that were not Tammy’s shrinking figure.
Two days later I was sitting alone at the bar in the same room. I had just finished working on a painting for a surf shop on the shore and had been there about an hour when in walked Tammy. She sat next to me and ordered herself a light beer. "Do you mind if I sit down for a while and talk?"
"Not at all." I said. "What’s on your mind?"
I turned to look at her. She wore a white blouse and a leather skirt. Her legs were encased in dark panty hose and she wore a pair of black pumps. I figured she was going out somewhere fancier than the Edgewater later judging by her outfit, she certainly wasn’t dressed from the spa.
Tammy was a beautiful girl. She was 20 years old, about 115 pounds at five foot two. Her hair was sandy blond with darker streaks. Her brown eyes were large and hypnotic. She had a perfect nose and pouty lips that surrounded a beautiful smile. She still had nice boobs, though they were smaller from her weight loss than they were a year ago. She used to have a nice, round, killer rack. Her tiny behind made the men look twice from their seats further down the bar though.
"Dante left this morning for Colorado on business,” she stated and a tear rolled down her cheek.
“It’s okay.” I said, stroking her shoulder. “That’s the snow board deal he was hoping for, that’s actually great news.”
I meant that, he was the business guy and I was the designer. If he got the contract I would be designing the boards. I figured he’d be calling me tonight.
“He wants to give our relationship a rest." She spat and began to cry, I got up and held her.
"I don't understand what happened, but he said that you do." Her brown eyes looked at me accusingly and tears streaming down her face.
"Please tell me what's wrong. I have tried to get him to, but he wont tell me."
I sat back down in my stool and after a few minutes thought I finally said, "It’s…your appearance that bothers him."
"My appearance?" she asked, getting angry now. “What the heck do you mean my appearance?”
"Well, yeah. Please calm down.” I whispered, looking around. Luckily, the place was almost empty. That’s why I liked the basement, all of the yuppies hung out upstairs. The artists and reprobates like me stayed downstairs.
She blew her nose and then she went on. "I've changed my hair, my makeup, and I even went on a diet and lost thirty pounds of ugly fat for him. Can you tell me just what I did wrong?"
After some hesitation I told Tammy about Dante's fantasy dreams and how her weight loss was just the opposite transformation that she needed to turn him on.
"Well", she growled. "I won't get fat again, even for him," and with that she got up and stormed out of the bar.
It was about a week later and I was watching the Simpson’s when I heard the doorbell ring. It was Tammy and she had tears in her pretty eyes and a piece of paper in her hand.
"What's the matter Tammy?" I asked.
"I got this email from Dante today."
I took the paper in my hand and read it. In it, Dante told her about his fantasies and how he wished things were different. He said he was sorry, but that he just knew he couldn't be satisfied sexually with her being so thin.
He ended the email assuring her that he still loved her and that he would like to see her when he came back in two months to gather his things for his final move out west.
I had been in contact with him by phone and by email as well, but he was all business with me. He hadn’t even mentioned Tammy to me, and I didn’t bring her up. Regardless of the deal in Colorado, I was staying in New Jersey; I could do all my work by email and UPS anyway. I had a design studio in my house and that’s the way I liked to work. We still had a bunch of clients here that I had to worry about anyway.
"So what do you plan to do about all this?" I asked.
Tammy was silent for a long time. Finally she looked me in the eye and stated. "Well, I still love him, and I think he loves me. I'm going to get as fat as I can get in two month's time. Will you help me?"
Needless to say, being the nice guy that I am, I agreed to help fatten her up without batting an eye.
Tammy wanted me as her personal coach in this matter and allowed me full control over her life for the next two months. She decided to quit her job at the spa because working there would be detrimental to her progress. They expected her to be fit and in shape. Besides, working all day wouldn't allow her to spend all of her time eating.
She had enough in her savings to pay for the large amounts of the fattening foods that she figured it would take to get the desired Amount of fat that I, or rather, we hoped to pile on her. Tammy still lived with her parents and I figured they would become an obstacle to our plan, so I offered to let her stay in at my house. This meant that I would sleep in the master bedroom and it had a stairway up to a loft that I used for working.
As for Tammy. there was a second, large bedroom that just had crap piled in it as storage. I could have it cleaned out and painted for her over the weekend. She would have her own bathroom. Downstairs was a large living room and kitchen with a dining room not to mention the garage and full basement.
The following Sunday night she showed up at my door with several suitcases and her laptop computer. I brought her bags in and led her up the bedroom. It still smelled of paint. I had painted the room a sand color with sea-foam trim. A large white fan spun slowly above a queen-sized bed with a coral comforter on it. I loved the beach and most of the house was decorated in seashore themes.
“I love it.” She exclaimed, throwing her arms around my neck and hugging me tightly. She spent Monday unpacking and decorating her room and bathroom while I worked upstairs. I traded emails with Dante and even spoke to him on the phone, yet I told him nothing about Tammy or her plan.
I decided to quit for the day about 2:00pm and went down to make a shopping list. Tammy came to the supermarket and a large discount warehouse with me. We returned about 5:00 with enough food for an army. She started putting things away in the freezer and pantry while I started cooking. When she was done I chased her out to go make sure all of her bills and everything were updated online with her new address.
Two hours later, Tammy stood at the entryway to the dining room, staring at the table loaded with the first of many huge meals she would put away. She was wearing cut-off jeans and a blue tank top that was pulled up under her perfect breasts exposing her flat tummy and shallow belly button around which I could see faint stretch marks from when she was plump before. I thought to myself, it wouldn’t be long before I have those stretch marks splitting at the seams.
She walked over, stood by the table, examined the feast I had laid out for her, and said, "I don't know if I can go through with this."
She then started heading for the door.
Quickly I countered, "Do you want Dante back or not? Don't you love him?"
"Yes, yes," she said, with tears starting to run down her slim model-like face.
"Then come back, sit down and enjoy. There are worse things in life than a good meal!" As Tammy walked over to the table and was about to sit down she patted her flat tummy and looked down at her feet and sighed, "I guess before long I'll be back to my old chubby self again."
Finally, she sat and began to eat. I wasn’t Italian, but I loved to cook Italian food. Tammy was Italian and she complimented my cooking with a mouth full of spaghetti. She finished the huge bowl of pasta and followed it with fish and chicken and several meatballs. After an hour she sat back and rubbed her full stomach. It was a little distended from her big meal, but she was far from finished.
“Oh wowod, Bill, I’m so full.” She burped quietly into her napkin. “That’s it for now, I can’t eat anymore.”
“Take a break.” I replied clearing the dirty dishes.
“You can, and you will, eat more.” I reassured her with a wicked grin. She just smiled weakly.
“You’re the boss.”
“Coach.” I said as I walked into the kitchen. I returned with a platter of lasagna and a basket of hot garlic bread. I poured her a glass of Merlot and had one myself. I also refilled her tall glass of Pepsi with ice.
Forty-five minutes later the bread was gone along with a quarter of the huge pan of lasagna. Her soda was empty as was her wine and she was visibly uncomfortable, her belly was stretched out as though she were four months pregnant. She pushed away from the table and belched loudly.
That first day was not as productive as I had hoped, but I couldn't complain too much. After all she had eaten quite a lot considering the shrunken state of her stomach. I was hoping she would have finished the lasagna.
Tammy staggered to the couch and fell asleep. It was eight o’clock, I decided I’d give her until ten to sleep and then serve dessert. I left her asleep on the couch and I cleaned the kitchen. When that was done, I went upstairs to my loft and painted for a while.
At ten o’clock, I woke her up with a thick brownie sundae covered in hot fudge and whipped cream. I had four cherries on top because I figured it was four times as big as a large would have been in an ice cream shop.
After much pushing and some quite unladylike belching (which kind of delighted and shocked me at the same time) she finally got it all down and complained: "I feel completely bloated. Why do I have to eat so much?"
I replied, "Because you want to put on as much weight as you can by the time Dante comes home."
Tammy couldn’t argue with that and she lied down on the couch to watch some television and fell back to sleep. I covered her in a blanket and went upstairs to my painting.
By the second week, Tammy was starting to get into my increasingly strict "diet" plan with more vigor and I was helping her become more efficient in her eating habits as well as feeding her myself. I got up in the morning to prepare a large breakfast of six eggs and 18 slices of bacon. After this was consumed, I would then assist her in eating up as many pancakes as could be stuffed into her face. I would soak them in butter, shove one in and then pour in a few ounces of rich fattening maple syrup, taking care not to choke her.
This usually lasted about three hours, giving her time to make room between gorging. Then before I'd go upstairs and do some work, I would make sure that plenty of fattening goodies were at hand to tide her over till lunch time.
About noon, I'd go down to the local Wendy’s or MacDonald’s fast food and get several double cheeseburgers, large fries, and two or three large frosties. Then I'd head for home to feed her as much of these as she could handle.
Tammy would usually lie around the rest of the afternoon, nibble on sweets and cookies, and digest to make room for a good, solid supper. When I got done work for the day she was usually asleep in her room or on the couch. The thought of her laying around while her ever expanding, stomach processed burgers and pancakes into succulent mounds of fat turned me on immensely, though I could never tell her that.
"Dinner is ready Tammy!" I announced.
"0K, I'm coming" she replied. As Tammy stepped through the door into the dining room on the Monday evening of the third week, she yawned and stretched her arms upward. It was becoming more and more obvious that all of the many thousands of calories that she had been ingesting over the past two weeks were beginning to show. Her flat tummy had become a pudgy roll that along with her increasing hips was pushing out over the top of her cutoff jeans that had begun to split the seams.
As she started towards the food-laden table she noticed my looking at her fat rolls and crooned in a mocking little girl voice: "You like Tammy’s little plump tummy?" Then she patted a small handful of tummy fat, laughed at my obvious embarrassment and sat down to eat. Supper was a large-scale event and she sat back in her chair and began to shovel and pour in the poundage-adding food.
"Have some more dressing Tam!" And how about a little gravy to wash it down?" I'd urge her on.
And she would grunt, "Yes! More!"
As I poured in gravy, it ran down her chin. When she wiped it away I noticed that she had started a second chin.
"Now I would love some of that chocolate cream pie!" she purred after a meal much larger than the one I prepared her first night.
"You’ve got it, kid,” I agreed.
As she began to spoon the rich, creamy pie into her mouth I gathered my courage and announced. "I'm taking the next three weeks off from my job to work on you full-time, and, frankly, I intend to keep you so stuffed you won't be able to move. You will become so fat, Dante won't know who you are when he sees you."
As I set the empty pie plate aside and began cutting another loaf of bread to soak in a bowl of butter, she said, "It will be nice to have you down here with me all day long."
Then she did something I never expected, she touched my face with her hand, looked into my eyes and whispered. "I'm going to do real good for you."
Tammy lifted up her T-shirt and poked at her little two week old fat roll, "Real good..."
My time off started the following Saturday morning, and I started by getting up early and cooking her a breakfast large enough for four grown men. Twelve eggs, toast with lots of butter, two packages of bacon, two boxes of sausage, hash browns and a large stack of pancakes sat steaming on the table as she came down.
I had brought the bathroom scale down and set it beside her chair. “Good morning, busy beaver.”
Tammy greeted me, looking at all of the food and the scale sitting out. I had mounted a calendar on the refrigerator to monitor her meals and weight. I had marked 115 pounds on the day we started. It would be three weeks to the day in two days. Tammy stepped on the scale and was shocked when it stopped at 132.
“Incrediblet, Billy, I can barely believe this,,.” She whispered looking up at me. She had never called me Billy before, not many people did. I liked it, a lot, but I didn’t say anything. I just looked at her. She was wearing one of her t-shirts that was loose when we started, it was tight now, stretched over her growing breasts. Her belly was rounded and it also stretched the thin material. Tammy rarely wore a bra after the first week or so; I knew this was because she had outgrown the ones she had. Her nipples were erect and I turned away so as not to stare. The sweatpants she had slept in were also getting tight around her behind and thighs.
“132, seventeen pounds in 19 days.” I said as I wrote the number on the calendar. “Not bad, but we can do better.”
Tammy sat down, a little dazed at the increase in her weight.
“It took me four months to lose that much weight,” she said quietly.
“Well, that’s not really an issue now, is it?” I asked, hoping she wasn’t going to waver.
“Nope!” Tammy responded with a wicked grin and she went at that food as if there was no tomorrow. Her appetite seemed to increase by the day and her face was constantly being stuffed.
Things really began to move during that first weekend I was off work with her. By Monday, our three-week anniversary, Tammy asked me to weigh her again.
“138 pounds, wow, six pounds in two days!” I announced and she was beaming.
“Three pounds a day? I want to start weighing every day.” Tammy stated.
“How about breakfast?” I asked as I poured pancake batter into a large skillet.
Tammy rubbed her soft belly. “I’m starving today.”
“Not for long.” I said wickedly and Tammy laughed.
Weighing herself everyday is the catalyst that really motivated Tammy. She couldn’t realistically expect to gain three pounds every day, but she did make gains of three pounds a day for a couple of more days, then dropped to one or two pounds and finally, by midway through the second week I was off all day with her, she pulled an amazing five pound gain!
That Thursday, she stepped on the scale in one of my t-shirts and it stopped at 151 pounds. We just stared at each other. She suddenly threw her arms around me.
“Five pounds? In a day? No way!” she exclaimed. I just hugged her and beamed with excitement. Tammy had earned that five pounds.
I had started her out with eight huge chocolate chip pancakes dripping with butter, syrup and surrounded by sausage and bacon. She finished that by 9:00am and we went into the family room to watch movies all day. I had the Godfather parts one and two. We both hate part three so I skipped it.
She snacked on a couple of boxes of Pop Tarts and a gallon of chocolate ice cream until lunch. I picked her up two large meatball Parmesan sandwiches from the local pizza shop for lunch and two bottles of Pepsi. She consumed all of it. She then snacked on pretzels, potato chips (one bag of each) and two sour cream containers of onion dip all afternoon until dinner.
Dinner was a smorgasbord of potato peirogies, German sausage, kielbasa, mashed potatoes and hearty black bread from the German butcher a few miles away. Her dessert last consisted of another one of my special sundaes covered in thick, hot fudge and whipped cream. Since the first one I had made for her had four cherries on it because it was four times as big as a large in an ice cream store, this one had six cherries. She ate it all with out complaining and fell sound asleep on the couch when she was done.
I sat in the recliner across the room from the couch where she slept and watched her for a while. Her back was to me; I had placed a blanket of her. I looked in amazement at how much that blanket curved up to cover her ass. It was getting huge.
Now she stood before me in one of my t-shirts that was tight over her breasts and belly and stretched down to try and cover her ass. I could still see her purple panties; the shirt wasn’t long enough to cover them. Tammy had put back the thirty pounds she had lost and added another six pounds to her frame in six weeks!
“What’s for breakfast?” she inquired with a smile, rubbing her soft belly in anticipation.
(continued in post six of this thread)
