elroycohen
Steampunk Psycho
~BHM, ~BBW, Gluttony, Stuffing, ~XWG -The story of how the mundane life of a burnt out software salesman is drastically altered after a fateful meal.
THE BENEDICT CONTRACT
Chapters 1 - 6
by Elroy Cohen
Chapter 1 - Nick Crawley, Sales Superstar
After I pulled the rental car to a stop in the long, winding driveway I glanced down at my cell phone. It had been beeping at me for the last few miles, alerting me to an incoming text message. Flashing across the screen as I looked down were the words:
GET THE CONTRACT OR LOSE YOUR JOB, NICK
Overly dramatic for sure, but I knew all too well that my boss was absolutely serious. He was not the type to kid around. I was well aware of how important this contract I was about to negotiate was to the company. This clients account made up over twenty-five percent of our business and things had been unusually slow for the software company that employed me the last few months.
With the slightly higher than usual amount of pressure and a good-sized chip on my shoulder since I had been asked on short notice to drive hours away to a remote location in upstate New York, I prepared to meet with one of my more reclusive clients by taking a moment to clear my head before stepping out of the car.
The unusual circumstance notwithstanding, I hated my job with all my being even on a good day. I longed for a job that allowed me to stay home and work from my couch. Well, okay, I longed for no job at all. But my income was the main source of money coming into my house right now and I had not yet come up with a way to tell my wife I would rather mooch off her rich parents than spend another day hocking software to heartless company presidents. So I concentrated on the task at hand.
All I had been told was that my client, who already held a multi-million dollar contract with our company, had recently acquired a host of new facilities and had called the company telling them he wanted to meet with me immediately before he agreed to purchase our companys software for his new offices and plants. It made no sense since he was already getting a good deal, and having software that could be compatible with the places he already owned would save him money in the long run. The client had always been sort of a loose cannon so I prepared for the worst.
The deal would be worth a million and a half dollars if I could close it, so when my boss told me to cancel dinner with my wife and make the long trip up to some extravagant mansion on a gloomy April evening, all I could do was smile and say yes.
The clients name was Arlington Benedict; he was a self-made millionaire who had started out selling used equipment to vegetable canning plants. With some good business sense he rose through the ranks at his company, eventually buying out the owner. After years of making good contacts and stockpiling money, Arlington branched out and purchased some of the smaller processing plants he was selling equipment to. By choosing who he sold his equipment to and how much he sold it for he was slowly able clear out his competition. He eventually branched out in a similar way working his way into meat and candy processing plants. Now in his early seventies, the controlling mogul was the majority owner of numerous plants and offices in the US, Canada and Europe.
He figured greatly into my yearly income because every plant he took ownership of was another facility that could benefit from the software I was selling. The catch was Mr. Benedict was a very odd, reclusive personality. He usually had an agenda in mind before I even showed up to negotiate. A sale meant I had to play into his little games that usually ended up being something that demonstrated his power or his importance to the company I represented. As he got older and weirder he usual threw in a good dose of humiliation for me as well. Not that he was in any way mean-spirited or hard to get along with; in fact it was quite the opposite. Over the couple of years I had been dealing with him Arlington had kind of grown on me, in an eccentric, creepy old man sort of way. I figured tonight would be no different than any other time. I would have to do something to stroke his ego; lose to him in a poker game or lavish him with a dinner at the expense of our company when he knew he could easily afford three times whatever I could offer.
I was slightly nervous about tonight since the last time I met with him I had to pull out all the stops and play the sympathy card. I gave him a slightly exaggerated sob story about all the stress and hardship my line of work contained. It worked well enough to close the deal at the time but it left with me with nothing up my sleeve tonight if I ran into trouble.
I stepped out of the car and adjusted my appearance by the reflection in the car window. I ran a hand through my shaggy blonde hair. I tried loosening my belt another notch to relieve the tightness of my ill-fitting pants but found I was already on the last hole.
My very sedentary job along with restaurant meals when I was not at home and the fattening Italian cooking of my lovely wife of one year had caused me to be a substantial amount heavier than I was three years ago at college graduation. I told anyone who asked I had packed on 20 pounds, but the reality was more like 35. I was not too concerned, although I was now over 200 pounds and closing in quickly on 210. It was enough to turn my former college baseball all-star, beach-ready body into a soft, pudgy desk jockey. Attempts were made by me to stay active, but the lack of good exercise equipment at the hotels I frequented prevented enough activity to combat my eating habits. Okay, okay, the truth is I hated working out almost as much as I hated working at my job. Running for half an hour to nowhere or lifting dirty pieces of iron made absolutely no sense to me whatsoever.
My wife was quite understanding about my slowly softening physique, although she was not above a little friendly teasing. She kidded that she completely expected my inactive lifestyle to turn me into an overweight blob and looked forward to the day she would have to help me bathe myself. I laughed off her jokes since the alternative meant diet and exercise.
I pulled my suit coat closed to try and hide the straining waistband and turned to walk into the mansion of the man who held my career in his hands. The house must have been a recent purchase for Arlington as it was the first time I had ever met him at it. I strode up to the door where I was greeted by what must have been a new girlfriend judging by the way she was dressed. The young woman simply smiled and turned to lead me through the foyer.
As I went over what I would say, I found it hard for to concentrate on my game plan while I walked down the long hallway of the luxurious home because of the lovely young lady leading the way. Part of me being thrown off my game was the fact that Arlington never had any of his tawdry, young, gold-digging, temporary companions present at a business meeting. Also very distracting was this unknown womans appearance. She was more like an airbrushed picture then an actual person, impeccably made up so not one flaw or blemish was visible anywhere on her. Probably early twenties in age, with a face that looked reminiscent of a 50s pin-up girl; full red lips contrasting against a milky white complexion and long, dark eyelashes batting seductively. Striking red curls framed her round face on either side.
Her body was no less amazing, in fact it was nearly dreamlike. A short skirt made her long, curvy legs seem even longer. Just the slightest hint of jiggle at the tops of her thighs as she teetered down the hall in her stilettos had me trying to think of baseball to keep my pants from tenting. Her round hips flared out, making her waist appear narrow when in fact it had a healthy, and very attractive, softness to it. The young womans boobs were without a doubt her most notable asset. They were easily the size and shape of volleyballs, with no exaggeration. Despite their heft they floated out in front of her as if they were weightless. The woman drew attention to her chest with a very low-cut blouse revealing a line of cleavage that seemed to never end.
As I kept admiring the attractive, scantily clad lady I suddenly realized we had stopped moving. I was standing in an elegant dinning room, lined completely in rich oak panels and decorated with large oil paintings of forest scenes. I would have marveled at the elegant crystal chandelier that was roughly the size of a Volkswagen hanging over the table for twenty-five if my eyes had not been locked onto the round supple ass in front of me. The pretty young thing turned to me flashing the understanding smile of a woman who had long since gotten used to being gawked at, and gestured to Arlington who was seated at the extravagantly carved head chair.
Good evening, Nicholas. Thank you for coming on such short notice, he greeted me. Seated very proper-like, Arlington gave the appearance of a man who had more money than he knew what to do with all his life and not a man who had started out hocking cooling conveyors around the Midwest in hundred-dollar suits. A full head of white hair topped his frail frame which looked every year of his age.
No problem. You seem to have scared the boys back at the office, I began.
Hows that, Nicholas? his usually condescending tone shot back. He was only the second person to ever call me Nicholas. The first was a senile old English teacher back in grade school. I never called him on it; as long as he kept signing contracts that made lots of money for me he could call me Nancy if he wanted.
Anytime you call and ask for a visit with me right away, it sends up a red flag to all the higher ups. It makes them think there is a problem with one of your existing contracts or in this case it makes them think there is a reason you wont put our software in place at your recently purchased acquisitions. I did not consider myself the type of man to stare, however as I explained myself to Benedict I found my eyes constantly wandering back to the very exposed cleavage of the nubile mystery woman. It struck me as odd since her breasts were so obviously fake and I had always preferred natural. This ladys bosom seemed very different from most surgically enhanced racks; it seemed very soft and inviting, heaving gently up and down as she breathed.
Nicholas? Arlingtons voice jarred me out of my gawking.
I quickly brought my hand to my mouth to wipe away any drool that had formed and then replied, Sorry. I didnt catch that.
I said I did not call about any software purchases, although since you are here I most likely will sign purchase orders for your software for all five of the facilities I have recently come into ownership of. For the same rate we agreed upon last time, of course.
Nothing could tear my attention away from giant heaving boobies faster the promise of purchase orders that required no long, drawn-out negotiating. I immediately set my bag on the table and began digging out the paperwork.
Arlington held up his hand to stop me and I knew a catch was coming.
I called because I wanted to help you, he said, matter-of-factly.
You can help me by putting your signatures on this paperwork and letting me get home. It was worth a try, although I could tell by the look in his eye he had something big planned.
He stood up and sauntered over to the overdeveloped beauty I had been stealing glances at.
I saw you admiring Vivian. Is she not amazing? He gestured up and down the picturesque womans body as she smiled impishly.
I nodded, not sure how this figured into any contract agreements.
Vivian is my new spiritual advisor, he said with a straight face. Shes been helping me with all my business decisions lately.
On the outside I continued nodding politely, but on the inside alarms were going off as I was trying to decide if the always eccentric millionaire had finally gone over the edge or if this was some sort of joke.
More importantly she has been helping me turn into a better person. When I told her about you and the story you told me last time we spoke, she sensed you are a person in need of my help. He was not even looking at me any more. He and his spiritual advisor were staring into each other's eyes, nodding solemnly.
You dont need to be a better person, sir, youre rich, I said.
That does not mean I am above helping the little people.
Confused, but not yet worried since he had already said he was ready to sign the contracts, I pressed for information about his buxom young companion. Where did you meet this important advisor, who has been so helpful.
In Atlantic City, he answered, still looking deeply into Vivians doe eyes. She works for a psychic hotline, which I never really believed in until she walked over to me from across the bar and knew just by looking at me I was an intelligent, successful businessman whose only problem is finding a caring woman.
Now I knew Arlington well enough to know he was apt to be a little lapsed in judgment when it came to pretty young women who took an interest in him. He had more then enough money to afford expensive lady friends. Quite a few BMW salesmen had benefited from his romantic encounters. This situation seemed to go above and beyond the usual, however.
I managed not to laugh at his description of their meeting, but in my head I was already planning a way to get her out of the room so I could get down to business. Before I could come up with anything Vivian spoke for the first time.
We better start, Daddy, she said with a thick Jersey accent.
Arlington leaned in close to his young companion and gently nuzzled her nose with his, What did I say about calling me that in front of people?
Sorry, Dad-. She giggled like a little school girl. I mean, Arli.
I really dont have time for this, Mister Benedict. I canceled dinner with my wife to come up here. If you could just look over the terms here and sign on the bottom line, I can leave and let you two get on with your evening.
Arlington rushed over and snatched the papers out of my hand.
Oh no, Nicholas. I realize that admitting you need our help is not easy for someone who so desperately wants to believe they have everything under control. He had a very sincere look on his face. So for motivation Im making the million and a half dollar contracts the reward for starting down the road to a better life.
The alarms in my head were getting louder and more desperate sounding. On a positive note he was now holding the contracts in his own wrinkled paws, which was a good first step.
What could be so hard about this road to a better life? It probably could not be any worse then the time he had me go whiskey shot for whiskey shot with his Irish chauffeur at a grungy dive in downtown L.A. Maybe it would be worth a try to play along.
How do I start down that road, Mister Benedict?
Finish a specially prepared meal by a gourmet chef Vivian had me hire just for you, was his matter of fact response.
The alarms stopped completely and I probably looked like a deer in headlights, confused by the unusually simple task laid out for me. He made it sound so easy, but the devilish grin on his face let me know there was more to it. It was the grin he had when he challenged me to a golf match for his signature a few years back only to reveal to me after I accepted that it was with one of the top college players in the state. He closed the deal despite my pathetic loss, but only after fiendishly enjoying my humiliation.
Whats the catch? You want to show off in front of Vivian and make me eat cows brains or lambs testicles? I shrugged. For the amount of money on the line I would have gladly lapped up double helpings of both.
Nothing like that, Nicholas, its all very good food in fact. Vivian and I sampled some earlier, he reassured me.
Perhaps this wouldnt be as difficult as I thought it might have. Perhaps I had read this lady wrong. Perhaps she had softened the haggard old coot.
Then youll sign the contracts? I asked.
All five facilities will proudly run BellTech Enterprises finest software. That devilish grin was still staring me right in the face, but I had could not fathom what bad could come of his request. Nor could I fathom how it could possibly lead me down a road to a better life, but that was the least of my concerns at the moment.
I slowly eased myself into one of the many chairs surrounding the dining table and awaited my million and a half dollar meal.
I guess I will say that the meal will probably be portioned a little larger then youre used to. As long as you finish all of it, it wont be a problem, but if you leave one forkful of food on the plate He made the throat slashing motion with his hand signaling no contracts would be signed.
At this point, the ridiculousness level of the situation was beyond even my comprehension. Give me your best shot, I said. If eating a lot of food was all that was between me and closing the deal, he could have brought out a whole horse and I would have dug right in.
Instead what came out was a gigantic serving plate filled with fried food. Some onion rings, cheese curds, mushrooms, peppers, buffalo wings and fries, all battered and dripping with grease. It looked to be enough to feed ten hungry people, but compared to what I was expecting it did not seem that daunting at all.
Vivian took it from what must have been the chef and set it down in front of me. She managed to thrust her prominent bosom right in my face as she leaned in, and the strong smell of her cheap perfume ran right up my nose.
It may seem strange, but this is only the first step, Vivian told me as I looked into the vastness of her hanging cleavage. After you complete my plan for you, your life will seem so much less stressful and you and your wife can concentrate on that family she has been nagging you about.
Although her statement was general enough it could have been a lucky guess, the fact that she was right about my wifes desire to start a family shook me for a moment. How could the woman I had been writing off as a money hungry, vapid ditz know anything about my life or my wifes feelings?
Arlington set a pint glass of beer next to the heaping plate and he and his spiritual advisor sat down on chairs on either side of me. Arlington stared across me at his shapely advisor while Vivian looked on with the attentive excitement of a woman about to watch her favorite soap opera.
I began eating and tried to go at a brisk pace, hoping to be finished before my stomach realized how full it was. The offerings were quite good. However as rich as they were, I knew my stomach would fill up sooner rather than later. The awkward silence as my audience watched me eat forced me to start up conversation.
So, how is this the first step to a more fulfilled, happier life? I asked through a mouth of fried finger-foods.
If it was easy enough that I could just explain it to you, you would not need our help in the first place. Would you, Nicholas? Was Benedicts intentionally vague answer.
Your guiding spirits told me what your aura needs. Vivians nonsensical rambling was no more helpful, so I concentrated on the food.
Halfway through the mountain of greasy offerings I found a number of things beginning to work against me: first was my stomach, which was filling beyond the point where I would normally stop eating. Next, the thick layer of yellowish grease pooling up in the bottom of the large plate was starting to make me even less motivated to eat than I already was, especially when I felt that same grease sliding down the back of my throat. Lastly my clothes were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight. My already undersized pants were painfully constricting my belly that desperately wanted to push forward. Even my dress shirt was starting to pull tight at the buttons around my bellybutton. With my strange companions watching intently on either side, I decided to try and push on without any clothing adjustments.
Three quarters of the way through I knew I must have looked a mess. My mouth hung open, taking short breaths in between stuffing my grease-covered mouth full of food. The hand that was not feeding my face was tugging at the painfully tight waistband of my pants. The spaces in between the buttons of my shirt were clearly gaping as my belly was expanding in any direction it could. The light from the chandelier was starting to feel like a heat lamp turned on high as sweat poured off my forehead and ran down my cheeks in streams.
I looked down at what was probably two servings' worth of food and which was starting to taste to me like salty, wet cardboard. I reached down with both hands and scooped all that was left. After taking as deep a breath as I was able, I crammed every last nugget of batter-covered goop into my mouth, furiously chewing, while stuffing errant blobs of mushroom or cheese that oozed past my lips back in. With a triumphant swallow I was sure I had completed Arlingtons little game and sat back in my chair. Unfortunately the sudden movement caused my trouser button to pop off. My zipper undid itself and out sprung a pale white orb that had once been my reasonably flat stomach. It spread over the waistband of my boxer shorts and pulled my dress shirt even tighter then it had been. By the look of the buttons on it another quick movement could split the shirt as well.
None of that mattered to me. With a great big greasy smile, I confidently told Arlington, Time for that signature. Then Ill leave you to be spiritually advised some more.
Arlington looked confused. Vivian stood up from her seat and walked off behind me.
Im not signing anything. Arlington shook his head.
Oh, come on, you set the terms. I just met them. And to tell you the truth, I am starting to feel more fulfilled. Thank you. If my bloated belly had not been weighing me down I would have got up and tossed the paperwork right into his lap.
Well, then, you should really enjoy this. He motioned to the returning Vivian, who set in front of me a plate twice the size of the last. It was packed full of a humongous steak that must have been at least three inches thick, a pile of deep fried shrimp that was at least as much as the whole first plate combined, three lobster tails lined up side by side, and lastly a baked potato topped with gobs of butter, melted cheese and chunks of bacon.
What the fu-!
This is the main course, Nicholas. All you finished was the appetizer. That devilish grin had returned to Arlingtons face. No normal person would have considered that a meal. Simply something to whet your appetite.
As I sat there stunned, Vivian reached down into my lap and pulled apart my shirt with one tug. There in all its glory was my very impressively round pouch of food.
You better let this guy breathe. Youve got a long way to go. She roughly patted my gut, causing a loud gurgling sound along with a gentle bobbing of my prominent orb.
There was nothing I could do. It was either give up and look like an idiot, or press on and try to beat them at their own game. So with little thought given to the matter, I removed the torn remains of my shirt and pulled my busted pants down to my ankles and faced my task clad only in my boxers.
It did not take too long for me to realize it was going to take some kind of miracle for this to happen. Barely a quarter of the way through the steak and halfway through the potato and the round belly that made me look seven months pregnant was beginning to resemble something out of a science fiction movie. The skin was stretching so fast that deep pink stripes were developing along with dark blue veins. Breathing was becoming harder and harder. What I felt like was the deepest breath I could take only left me more winded than before. Washing the solids down with beer was not helping matters at all. The thick lager weighed heavily down on top of my already over-packed intestine with every gulp.
By chance I happened to glance over in Vivians direction and noticed the oversized melons packed into her blouse had started to creep out of their confines as she leaned forward to observe my torture. She was oblivious to the fact that a good portion of areole had become visible and that revealing sight gave me my first and only idea.
I began to fantasize about the lovely yet ditzy young woman. Anything to help my mind focus on something besides the impossible task at hand. I focused in on the delicate pink semicircle peeking out from the deep neckline and imagined it bobbing up and down in front of my face. I pictured her tiny little hands trying to keep hold of her monstrous manmade mammeries as she bounced up and down on my lap. Eventually one bounced free and flew up and hit her on her cheek, leaving a bright pink spot where the heavy sack of saline ricocheted. Then gravity pulled the milk-bag down against Vivians dainty little ribcage with a thunderous slap.
I paused the image in my head for minute while I let out an earthshaking burp. Amazingly enough, the large escape of air gave no relief from the painful tightness in my midsection.
Looking down, I saw what I had managed to eat during my fantasy. Most of the steak was gone, only a few bacon pieces remained of the potato and a whole lobster tail had been cleaned out. I did not really want to, but it was unavoidable that I glance down at where I was putting all this food and the sight was even less pretty than before. My belly was now jutting straight out from my ribcage and it felt like food was packing up high enough to press right against my sternum. No longer round, my belly appeared lumpy either from the chunks of undigested food caused by the lack of chewing or from the weaker areas of skin stretching more the tougher areas.
Another thing I became aware of was the raging hard-on I was sporting as result of my daydream. It was hidden since my stomach had distended enough to close the gap between me and the table, but I could feel that my stiffened rod had snaked its way through the fly of my boxers and was poking the underside of my belly.
I went back to my fantasy, which was becoming more vivid as my mind was instinctively searching for anything to focus on besides the pain. The Vivian of my imagination continued riding me as her face contorted into expressions of extreme pleasure. She had given up trying to reign in her flopping boobs and allowed them to bounce wildly. The speed of her gyrations made her jugs lose their roundness and became undulating oblong cylinders shooting out in all directions while she rocked herself to climax.
Thoroughly entrenched in my dream-like state, I suddenly became aware of my fantasy representation of myself. I was an obscenely obese, immobile blob of a man whose flesh was jiggling more than any of Vivians soft supple curves. My belly resembled a childs wading pool, spread out into a giant circle as I lay flat on my back and rippling like it was full of water. Before I could notice anything else I was drawn to the very content smile that adorned my puffy face: a look of complete and utter happiness as I lay there looking like a half-deflated hot air balloon.
