Anna and Clara

How can a woman get so fat, so fat that she can barely walk? I was sitting in my car at a rest stop on the highway and was transfixed by the sight in front of me. A station wagon pulling a U-Haul trailer had pulled up and a very plump cute woman had gotten out of the driver's side. I watched her as she walked with a definite waddle round to the passenger's side.

Very nice, I thought. She opened the passenger side door and at first emerged an arm holding a cane. With help from the driver and what seemed like a couple of minutes struggle emerged a sight that took my breath away, without doubt by far the fattest woman that I had ever seen. I could see her massive hips, vast tummy bulging far out in front her and reaching down below her knees, immense thighs and calves covering half her feet, huge rolls of fat on her back resting on the great shelf of her behind and the fattest arms stretching out, one holding the cane and one grabbing on to her accomplice. She stood for a moment catching her breath, contemplating her next challenge, that of stepping up onto the sidewalk.

Both of them looked as they were in their late twenties/early thirties. The fattest one was not really pretty pretty, but she had a kind of wanton look on her face. In an erotic sort of way it was as if there was nothing about her that could divert one's attention from the fact that she was truly, enormously, mountainously fat.

Presently, she began to move again. It must have been difficult to raise such a huge leg against the pressure of the her vast tummy, but she managed to get one foot on the sidewalk, and with the help of the 'plump one' pulling her up, finally both feet were up. She paused for a while to catch her breath again after such exertion and then moved on in tiny six-inch steps, heaving one immense leg around the other towards her goal of a picnic table not ten feet distant. She was wearing pants that were barely up to the job. They seemed to be stretched as tight as a drum, and the seam down her leg had split apart in a couple of places. On top she wore a white T-shirt, which too seemed about to rip apart. A luscious roll of fat hung out where the two had no hope of meeting over the limitless expanse of the tummy.

As she moved slowly in the direction of the table, I was thinking how difficult it would be to give her a proper hug if the occasion demanded it. Her vast tummy, especially the lower folds, stuck out so far, it would be impossible to get close enough. You would not expect her to lean forward too much because even now as she was shuffling along, she was leaning back on her heels. Even though her behind was massive, it really did not compare to the vast expanse of her tummy. The best you could do for a hug was maybe pat the huge rolls of fat bulging out under her arms.

Eventually, she reached the picnic table and, turning her vast body carefully around, sat down with her legs wide apart and her massive tummy hanging down between. She was panting visibly. While she was catching her breath, I was thinking while there are fat women who eat very little, she was simply so fat that it could not possibly be true of her. Did she have a deep psychological void that she was trying to fill with never ending quantities of food? Was she simply addicted to food, would like to stop eating but simply unable to, or was she simply in love with food and ate and ate for the pure pleasure of it? In any case, who provided all this food? Did she have a lover who left a mountain of fattening goodies next to the bed as he went off to work in the morning?

I was pondering these questions as the 'plump one' waddled back to the car, reached in and brought out one of those flat boxes, which contained a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts. She placed them in front of her friend, opened the box and took a couple for herself. Then the 'fat one' took a couple and proceeded to eat them at a moderate pace, as if this was all she was going to eat, but then it appeared as something snapped.

What I saw next took my breath away as this woman so fat that she could hardly walk, stuffed donut after donut in her mouth, barely leaving time to chew.

Then I think I saw her hips beginning to move rhythmically. I couldn't be sure, but was she orgasming on the way this food so yummy and fattening was going to make her even fatter? Was she imagining the fat going straight to her thighs, already so fat as to make it almost impossible to walk, making them even fatter still - or her tummy bulge out so far that she could not reach it and touch it with her pudgy little fingers - or her hips become even wider, ripping the seam of the last pair of pants that fit her, apart?

I could not know, but it was a wonderful idea. Presently, she resumed just eating, polishing off two or three Danish pastries from a bag.

I realized this could soon be over and she would waddle slowly back to the car - and they would be gone forever - when I noticed that one of the tires of the trailer seriously needed some air and I amazingly had a pump. Trying to remain calm and collected after watching her and the donuts, I found the pump and, clutching this golden object in my hand, went over and introduced myself.

The fat one turned out to be Clara, and her plump friend was named Anna, and they were very pleased that I had pointed the flatness of the tire out to them. This was a good thing. I pumped up the tire and then asked them where they were heading. They were stopping for the night in a motel about four hours on. Since I was more or less, maybe less, going in that direction myself. I offered to follow them with my trusty pump in case the tire needed attention again. Clara pointed out that they did have a spare, but she was clutching the sides of her vast tummy, so I gave her a big smile and she gave an even bigger one back and what a smile!

Anna helped Clara back into the car, but Clara asked me to help raise her feet over the sill, once she was sitting on the seat. Again, I was trying to remain calm and collected with her immense soft fat tummy only inches from my face as I lifted her huge calves up to squeeze her feet into the car. We moved off in convoy, the journey took more than four hours. We made detours past the drive up windows of six fast food restaurants. I had visions of Clara already so fat that she was barely able to move, stuffing her tummy continuously with burgers, fried chicken, onion rings all washed down with milkshakes, each time the supply ran low calling for urgent replenishments to keep her huge, fat tummy full.

Thankfully, the tire gave no further trouble, and we arrived at the motel. We both helped Clara out of the car and helped her as she covered the few feet to the nearest bed in the hotel room. There she collapsed for ten minutes to regain her breath. Presently, she was ready to continue and was soon sitting up on the bed, legs wide apart as the only way to make room for her huge, fat tummy which spread out in front of her.

Anna gave her a box of chocolate chip cookies, which she proceeded to eat one after the other as we brought the luggage in. Anna asked, as I had been so kind, whether I would like to join them for dinner? It was evident, since Clara was not going anywhere, that this would be takeout. I unhitched the trailer and we set off in search of yummy food. When I got in, I saw that the floor of the car was a mass of fast food containers, which made me hot imagining how much fatter Clara must be getting after eating all of it.

Anna pulled into an ice-cream place, as the first place that we could dump the empty containers, so I asked her if she would like an ice cream. Her face lit up and she ordered a sundae with everything. As we sat there in the car, she told me how thankful she was for the help that I had given. She told me, as I had gathered, that they were moving house as she was going to work up in Maine. Clara came with her wherever she went; she could not imagine life without her. One last thing she said is that I might be tempted to offer to buy dinner. Another day, when I knew what I was letting myself in for, it would be much appreciated, but today would be like leading a lamb to the slaughter. And then she gave me a wicked smile.

I liked the idea of another day; this one had been shaping up pretty good so far.

Of course, I was trying to listen to her, but really I was watching her, a very fat woman, resting this sundae with a heaps of ice cream, nuts, fudge, strawberries, and great clouds of whipped cream on her big fat round tummy, eating it with such obvious pleasure and having me wonder if she would become even fatter than Clara if she continued to eat like this. Was this their bond, that they both just loved to eat and eat?

In almost no time at all, the sundae with heapings of everything had gone into her lovely round tummy, and she was telling me it was time for dinner.

We found a diner and went in, and she ordered a mountain of food off the menu. There were dinner items like steak and mushrooms, baked potatoes, halves of chicken, moussaka, lasagna and then breakfast items like omelettes, hash browns, home fries, bacon, sausage, banana pancakes, and finally dessert of a few slices of yummy cheesecake and chocolate layer cake. I was thinking that if they ate all this they would become so stuffed that they would not be able to move for days.

With a twenty-minute wait while this feast was prepared, I suggested to Anna that we nip across to the chicken place across the road for some appetizers. She gave me a devilish smile and said that I was beginning to get with the program. We drove across to the drive-through, and I ordered a large bucket of wings. Anna attacked them with glee and had no trouble finishing them (I managed to get one or two) before it was time to go to the diner and pick up a big cardboard box filled with food.

Soon we were back at the motel with the great box full of food. Clara was already sitting on the bed, wearing a nightdress that just about covered her tummy and behind, but leaving her massive legs stretched out each side. She put down the bag of cookies she was eating and chose six or seven of the entrees and I laid them out on towels in front of her huge tummy. She smiled at me and explained that I had not got it quite right. It seemed that her tummy was so fat, she couldn't really reach anything placed in front of her and that the towels and the food should be placed on the wide flat tops of her huge thighs.

That done, she began to eat.

Anna settled down on her bed and began to eat also. For the next hour they ate steadily. Little was said. It seemed like this was a mystical experience not to be interrupted by mere conversation. In time, when each had about half a dozen empty cartons in front of them, it was time for dessert. Clara had two pieces of the cheesecake and from the first forkful was telling us how good it was, how orgasmic it was. I was sitting on Anna's bed and she held out her hand and I held it while we both watched Clara abandon the fork, pick up the cheesecake with both hands and begin to stuff it into her mouth. Her massive hips began to move rhythmically again.


Anna tightened the grip on my hand. In no time the two slices were gone, and she was motioning that I get the other two slices. These were gone almost as quickly. Anna had to make do with a couple of slices of chocolate layer cake, but she still seemed not quite full.

Then it seemed that Anna had an idea. She was telling me that since I had not checked into the motel myself (true, I had had other things on my mind), she had a proposal. If I went back to the diner and bought a whole cheesecake and maybe a few other goodies, to "like, surprise us," she would allow me to sleep on a little piece of her bed. It was not a proposition I was likely to refuse, so back to the diner for the cheesecake, some mud pie and, as an afterthought, half a dozen Danish. Back at the motel, the cheesecake was quickly sliced and Anna and Clara began to eat. Clara quickly ate three slices and then said that she was getting so full that it hurt to move - so could I help her?

I helped her settle back on her pillows so that vast tummy had room to expand. I asked her if she would like a little gentle tummy massage. She lifted her nightdress and I was confronted by an expanse of soft fat flesh so huge that it took my breath away. She looked at me and smiled and said that, yes, indeed, she was getting quite fat. I had no answer for that and proceeded with some trepidation to explore the utter softness of her endless tummy, a great mound of flesh, stretching almost down to her knees and spilling over her sides. I could tell by her expression that she liked it. Presently she asked if I could feed her. Each morsel that I put in between her ruby red lips was if she was making love to it.

Soon the cheesecake was gone, and she was telling me how she loved it when she was so full she felt that she was about to burst, yet still she wanted to eat. Anna brought over her two slices that she had not managed to eat and I fed these to Clara too, morsel by loving morsel. Finally, when it was all gone, Clara waved her hand as if she had finally had enough. Anna brought a box of chocolate truffles and fed a couple to Clara. Here it was: Clara was so stuffed that she could barely speak, yet Anna knew there was still room for just a little more.

Immediately after that, Clara fell asleep, still with her huge tummy, a great mountain of fatness exposed. Anna seemed to have gotten a second wind and set to work on the mud pie while I went and got my stuff. When I came back, there were only a couple of slices left, which she thought only fair that I should have, since she was really stuffed. I picked up the box of truffles and she smiled and snuggled down onto her pillow and I fed her four before she told me that I was sweet, but that she was so stuffed, she would love more - but couldn't manage it just now. We watched something inane on TV and then fell asleep.

The next thing I remember was waking up, and the room was half lit by light filtering through the curtains. The alarm clock said 2.30. I looked across at the massive dimly lit form of Clara, with half of her immense tummy still spilling out from under her nightshirt, when I noticed that she was awake too and motioning me to come over. I crept out of bed and over to her. She seemed to want to whisper something in my ear. I leant my head over close to her, so close that I could feel the warmth of a woman I still had difficulty in believing could be as fat as what I was seeing with my own eyes. She whispered that she was a little bit hungry and would I be an angel and run over to the diner and get her some breakfast, a stack of pancakes, some eggs sausages and bacon and a nice helping of hash browns would do just right... oh, and then a few Danish to go with some coffee - just to last until the morning. I noticed she did not stop to see if I would go before she gave her order. She did not need to.

I produced the Danish, which I bought on my last trip out. She smiled and gave a big kiss and said that she loved the way that I seemed to understand her. She had finished two of the Danish all gooey and creamy before I was dressed and out the door. I was back in no time. I noticed that Anna was still sleeping. But Clara seemed all eager with anticipation for her next feast. Her endless tummy all exposed now, she was gently massaging the part she could reach, as she lay back in bed ready to be fed again until she was utterly stuffed. I started with the pancakes all drenched with syrup. She moaned gently from the pure pleasure of it. Here we were in the dim light, she so fat that she could barely walk ten paces, not four hours ago, stuffed almost to the point of pain and then some, having an appetite so insatiable that she could not last through the night without another enormous meal just to tide her over till the morning.

I was transfixed by her sheer hedonism. Words like greed and gluttony just seemed inadequate for the intensity with which she just ate and ate and ate. She was massaging her own tummy with more intensity now, her pudgy hands disappearing deep into her warm soft folds of fat. Her breath became shorter and sharper as I continued to feed her. Tears came to her eyes. I was thinking of this being such an sensual private experience I was sharing with her in the half light, while all the world lay asleep. Just me and her as I surveyed her vast fatness, the product possibly of years of stuffing herself until she was unable to move. Just then she climaxed and for a moment as I looked into her eyes, it seemed that the thought was crossing our minds that I should press her huge tummy aside and make wild love to her right there and then, but we both understood that this was a slow buildup to something at later time when we could both utterly and wonderfully lose control.

None of this stopped her eating for more than a moment and I fed her the rest of her early breakfast, taking little breaks to massage her fat tummy to help it all go down. Finally satiated she fell asleep and I crept back in next to Anna.

Morning came and I went off with Anna to get the real breakfast, everything I had got in the night had just been an appetizer. Anna who had seen all the spent containers Clara's early morning feast had come in, smiled and said that I knew how to get into a fat girl's good books. She asked me what I did for a living and I told her that I was a landscape gardener; ponds were my specialty, because they were the thing these days. She pointed out that since it was February, there was not too much I could be doing, so of course I could come with them to help move in.

She did not doubt that I would agree. It took a full two hours for Clara to eat her second breakfast, while Anna was all bustle and wanted to get going. I think she felt that Clara was comfortably settled and would happily stay at the motel and eat all day. Finally we managed to help Clara squeeze her vast soft fat form into the car and we were off. There was only one stop that day, at a warehouse store where I helped Anna fill two carts full of fattening goodies. I felt sure that we were pushing the ingredients for a full week of non stop totally out of control bingeing while Anna said that it was just a few things to get us started. All this food filled my car, there being no room in theirs - all except for a cheesecake and three bags of cookies that did not survive the trip.

Towards evening we arrived at a small town in Maine and pulled up in front of a small log cabin. Inside Anna quickly showed me around. The first thing I saw was two king size craftmatic beds snuggled up against each other; you know the ones you adjust. Anna was smiling at me - yep and two free TV's, too, she said, but this is especially for Clara. When you have been sitting on the bed eating and eating and you are so totally stuffed, it is so nice just to press a button and you just slide back and relax. Of course that is when you want some nice person to rub your tummy and feed so you some extra special goodies, now that your tummy is relaxed and there is a little more space to fill.

Next to each bed I noticed each had a small refrigerator and microwave. A hot tub and two TV's completed the furnishings. The kitchen was off to one side.

First order of business was to help Clara onto one of the beds and leave her with a big bag of cookies to munch on. Next was to fill the kitchen, which had two large refrigerators, with all the food we had brought.

Meanwhile, two large dishes of lasagna were heating in the oven. It had been a long day and we went to bed early, me sleeping this time in the wonderful little space between Anna and Clara. Clara insisted on it. Maine nights are dark and in the pitch darkness after we turned out the lights, I lay awake for a while with images of the unbelievable fatness of the girls that slept each side going through my head while I listened to their steady breathing. The next thing I knew, it seemed like the middle of the night and Clara was prodding me and whispering in my ear how she would just love some breakfast. I was thinking how it was not four hours before that she had finished off a dish of lasagna meant for about ten people and then over a gallon of ice cream, but I was beginning to understand how vast her appetite was, the intensity with which her huge tummy called out to her, saying feed me stuff me.

I scrambled out of bed and found some donuts to satisfy her immediate needs and then after a little fishing around in the kitchen made a heaping plate of eggs, bacon, fried mushrooms and hash browns and followed it with a great stack of banana pancakes smothered in maple syrup, ice cream all buried in whipped cream. The light in the kitchen cast a subdued glow on us as I fed it to her mouthful by delicious mouthful. She held my hand tightly and I could just feel the intense pleasure she was deriving from the knowledge that this breakfast was helping make her even fatter.

Finally, she whispered to me when the plate was empty, that this should just about do her to morning. I produced another couple of donuts and while I fed them to her, she explained how she loved it how I understood her so well and we finally fell asleep in each other's arms. This started a routine that lasted a week. Clara just sat on the bed and ate and ate. Anna cooked (and ate while she cooked) to keep Clara supplied with fresh-out-of-the-oven goodies, endless bread, cakes, and cookies. I made myself useful fixing stuff up.

Of course, this was Maine in February so I had to go back home a couple of times to do my winter snowplowing route. I had lovely thoughts of the contrast between the bleak cold snow and warm fat tummies. The second time I returned, it seemed something was afoot. A huge meal (even by their standards) had been prepared and Clara was wearing a red dress that even covered her tummy as she sat on the bed.

When we had all settled down, Anna started by saying that there was something that she had to tell me. She started by talking about how she and Clara had a little bakery when the idea struck them to get one of the new Krispy Kreme franchises. Somehow they managed to find the money and open one of the first in Manhattan. Business was good enough, and they had been open a week when they made an awesome discovery. They lived over the store and it seemed that each had been going down at different times in the night and stuffing themselves with the unsold donuts. They each discovered how much the other just loved to eat and eat until they were totally stuffed, so each night they brought up a huge pile of donuts and placed it on the bed between them and they ate and ate together facing each other each encouraging the other to eat more and more. Clara broke in and said that there was no way to explain the rush they got from this, knowing that each of them did not want to just get fat, they were already fat, but just eat and eat until they both became great quivering jiggling mountains of fat, barely able to stand up.

Every night was a wonder, but truly the best day was Sunday, when they were closed and how they just used cook all kinds of fattening things and stuff themselves, sleep it off and then eat and eat again over and over again from Saturday evening all they way through Monday morning. The most awesome time of all was Thanksgiving when they were closed for four days and how they spent four days of unbridled gluttony, totally naked with great piles of food next to them, spending every waking moment just stuffing and stuffing themselves They, of course, indeed started getting fatter and fatter and talked about what a wonderful feeling it would be to be able to not have to work, but be able to eat and eat all day and just keep on getting fatter than ever.

In the bakery, it seemed, the fatter they got and as they bulged out of uniform after uniform, business got better and better. People were queuing up around the block to buy donuts from the two women who were getting so fat their uniforms could barely contain their massive bulging bodies. They thought it was because Manhattan was a stressful place and here people, men and women could spend a couple of minutes in the presence of the two of them who seemed to living a life of endless pleasure.

Clara talked about the little steps along the way: how, when going to a restaurant, the waiter would pull the table away for her to sit down and then pull the table up to her huge tummy - and the next step whereby she would have to sit sideways to the table since her tummy had become so massive it was impossible to reach food placed in front of her. Then she talked about being out of breath after walking only a few steps and how she would have to sit down and rest. In a way, she said, you would think this was not too much fun but in reality it made her so hot to think how this was a measure just how fat she was getting and how seldom she ever walked more than about ten paces.

She talked about lying on the bed and feeling her massive tummy with the thought, "Oh, my god, I'm sooo fat" just endlessly going through her head. Eventually Clara got so fat that she could only manage couple of hours a day on the counter. About that time they received an offer for the business that they could not refuse, especially when they realised that if they looked after the money carefully, they need never work again. That's where Maine came in - with cheap real estate and a cold climate, so friendly to fat girls.

This was their dream: every day they would wake up and eat, sleep, eat, sleep and then eat again each day knowing that they would wake up fatter than the day before. Anna asked if I would like to join them, making sure that I understood that I might think I was getting two women, their first love would always be eating and getting fatter. I was about to say yes when Clara broke in: Will you look after me and feed me when I get so fat that I can no longer walk?

I will, I replied.

Will you look after me and feed me when I get so fat that I can no longer even crawl on my hands and knees across the bed?

I will, I said again.

Will you look after me and feed me when I get so fat I cannot even turn over in bed?

I certainly will, I replied.

Will you never stop telling me how fat I am getting and that you cannot wait for me to get even fatter?

I will, I replied again.

Will you massage my huge fat tummy every day, digging your strong fingers deep into my soft fat doughy flesh?

I will, I replied.

Will you massage my immense thighs, running your hands through my endless rolls of fat?

I will, I replied.

Will you bathe me, running your strong arms into my deepest folds, losing them in my vast fatness?

I will, I replied.

When I become so fat I cannot walk, will you massage my feet every day with cream, so that my feet, no longer having to bear the burden of my enormous weight, will become as soft as my immense fat tummy? And, finally, will you feed me, until I am so stuffed that I am unable to move, then gently massage my tummy to make room for more and then feed me even more?

Then I said that I had something to tell her, too. I mentioned that I had a devilish streak and from time to time that I would have to punish her.

Tell me more, she said.

Well, Clara, I will have to punish you for being a total pig; you are so fat that you can barely walk, yet you simply never stop eating and eating.

It is true, she said, that I am a total fat gluttonous pig. I spend my day stuffing myself until I can hardly breathe, sleep it off and then stuff myself all over again, I am totally out of control, so then, what punishment do you have in mind?

I think I will punish you by putting you on a starvation diet for a whole three minutes.

Three minutes! You mean that here I will be with my huge fat tummy spreading out so far in front of me screaming out, "Feed me, feed me, make me fatter than ever," and my immense thighs so huge that I can barely swing them past one another when I waddle over to the couch and my butt which is so fat that it can barely support its own weight, all wanting to feel that fattening food so yummy on its way down into my tummy, food that will make them all fatter and fatter.. you will deny the demands of my vast insatiable appetite for three whole minutes?

I will, I said.

So how often do you think I deserve such severe punishment?

Don't worry, only about once or twice a year, and I will feed you a huge feast before so that you are totally stuffed and then reward you with a huge sundae with mountains of ice cream, chocolate fudge, endless nuts all deeply buried under mounds of whipped cream. But, of course, I will keep the sundae just out reach of your pudgy little fingers through the whole time of your punishment.

I will manage, just about, she said, and I love a man with a devilish streak!

At this point Anna started removing her clothes, then she motioned me to remove mine. She stood there awesome with her wide hips, large sagging tummy and heavy thighs. Now she asked me to remove Clara's dress. I pulled it gently over her head and saw a vastness, that up to now I had only imagined. I looked at the two great globes of her behind stretching, it seemed, like two feet behind her, the huge rolls of fat that hung down from her back and rested on her vast behind, the mass of soft fatness hanging from her upper arms. I was thinking that her arms might become so fat that she would not be able to lift them to feed herself. Then I gazed at her heavy breasts, resting on her truly massive tummy that stretched out far beyond where she could reach.

Oh, said Clara, enough time wasting - let's eat! And she held out a pudgy hand, motioning me to help her up and walk in the direction of the food laid out on the dining table groaning under the weight of it. With Anna's help slowly she was in motion. I was transfixed by her vast naked body, how her behind was so fat it indeed sagged under the weight, how the huge globes shivered with each tiny shuffle she took, her tree trunk thighs sagging halfway down her calves and her vast tummy reaching down, it seemed, to no more than a foot from the floor.

I found myself saying, Clara you are soooo fat. She said that she knew, but she loved to hear it from me, that I could not say it often enough, and then said that I should give her a hug. I certainly tried, but as I had noted but a few days before her tummy was so massive that it was impossible to reach over and get even close to getting my arms around her. She told me not to feel bad but there could not be anyone alive who would be able to get their arms around her now. I did not feel bad, the feeling of that vast soft warm expanse of fat pressing against me made sure of that. That was when I felt Anna's own fat tummy pressing up behind me. Sandwiched in lush soft warm female fat I was in pure heaven.

At this point, Clara pointed out that they were not going to get any fatter standing there, it really was time to eat. We helped Clara sit down in the middle of the sofa with two ottomans to support her vast tummy and legs. Anna and I made runs to the groaning table and brought steaks, chops, mountains of mashed potatoes, stuffed mushrooms, lasagna for Clara who just ate and ate.

After two hours of this, with Anna and I rubbing her belly and wiping off the food that Clara spilled on herself in her feeding frenzy, we began to switch to desserts, cheesecake, chocolate pie, apple pies, all buried in great drifts of whipped cream. Finally Clara was so stuffed that she was finding it difficult to breathe, and we gently fed her three chocolate truffles as she drifted off into a blissful sleep.

Later she told us of dreaming that she was in a magical place with several other women all of whom must have weighed several tons, being endlessly fed by other women who were enormously fat, but still able to waddle back and forth to a vast central table laden with endless platters of the most delicious and fattening food imaginable. She wondered just how fat she was since from where she lay she could barely see over the top of her mountainous tummy. Was she as fat as the other women there? She felt her tummy pressing on her feet and at some point her very fat feeder massaged her tummy. It felt weird but good, since she was massaging a part below her belly button that felt as if it was way beyond her feet. She said it felt like a vision she felt of how fat she would get if it was possible to eat and eat and never stop for her whole life, everyday getting fatter and fatter becoming so fat that her legs, fat as they were, would totally disappear under her ever expanding tummy.

Meanwhile Anna snuck into the little space left on the sofa besides Clara's vast slumbering fatness and I fed her an entire chocolate cake. She looked like she was so stuffed as to be unable to move, but she motioned for me to help her up from the sofa and took me to see a strange contrivance that was hidden under a cloth. I soon saw that it was a donut machine. Anna explained that the company thought that New York might be a good place to try out different flavours in small batches of a couple of hundred donuts or so instead of the thousands the big machine turned out. However it never worked out and the machine had been gathering dust, so she had had it shipped there. She was rubbing her fat tummy explaining that a couple of hundred donuts was just about right for them and she switched on the machine already primed to go.

Anna was all eager with anticipation, saying this was the first day of the years they would spend doing nothing but eating and getting fatter and fatter. She talked about the day not too far off when she would be as fat as Clara, barely able to walk ten paces. I wondered how fat Clara would be then. Anna was telling me that by then Clara would be so fat she would totally helpless, barely be able to move a muscle. She said it made her so hot to think of Clara being that fat.

Soon the donuts started appearing down the chute and Clara immediately woke up. The donut ritual started. We managed to help Clara back to bed and Anna sat facing her. Tummies touching and with a big tray of donuts perched on top of where their tummies met, they started to eat. It seemed that for Clara with her huge tummy, this was becoming a bit of a reach for her fat arms, so I started feeding her donut after yummy donut. She was telling me how she just loved the feeling of being able to eat and eat and only having to stop when she was completely and utterly stuffed. I was telling her how fat I was going to make her.

Till I am a great mountain of quivering blubber? she wondered.

Yes - and I will still feed you and make you even fatter; you can never ever become too fat for me.

After a while Anna announced that she was utterly stuffed, so we lay Clara back to allow her vast tummy to lie comfortably. Anna gently massaged that vast expanse of pure soft fat while I continued to feed her donut after donut. Clara moaned gently from the pure pleasure of it as she munched on the endless supply of fattening food that was filing her tummy and going to make her fatter than ever. Finally barely able to speak, she motioned that she had had enough so I joined Anna in massaging that vast mountain of fat, my fingers digging gently but deeply in to the endless softness of it. Soon Clara fell asleep and it had been a momentous day, so Anna and I joined her, me squished in between with Anna's fat tummy pressing against me. I fell asleep thinking that I would never be able to truly explain how good it felt to be smothered in so much soft fatness.

After that, time seemed to dissolve. In their nakedness the girls seemed to devote renewed energy to their quest to become ever fatter. I spent time helping Anna cook up endless delicious food in the kitchen. I fed her, too, while she cooked. We both wanted to make sure that we kept up with Clara's vast appetite. Night and day meant nothing anymore; Clara and Anna ate until they were totally stuffed, napped and then woke up again with their massive tummies crying out to be stuffed all over again. It was just one long feast with naps for the fat, fat girls to recover. After she had eaten enough to feel a little bit full but before she was utterly stuffed, Clara would ask me to make love to her.

Anna continued to feed her while we made love time and time again. I told her again and again how fat she was getting and how I was going to make her even fatter, while her massive tummy and the endless rolls of fat that clothed her entire body jiggled and quivered wildly as she screamed with endless pleasure.

Afterwards, she told us how she was so incredibly hungry, so both Anna and I fed her more and more cheesecake and donuts while Clara cried: More, feed me more, feed my massive tummy, make me so fat I cannot move, until, finally utterly stuffed, she fell into a blissful sleep.

The next day Anna and I were in the kitchen as usual, me feeding Anna and helping her while she cooked, when she took me in her arms saying, please hug me, put your arms around me while you still can because I so want you to make me fat like Clara. I took her in my arms, feeling her wonderful soft fat nakedness against me. Will you feed me and feed me? Will you make so fat I can barely walk? Make me so fat that I will be out of breath just waddling to the sofa, make my thighs so fat that they hang halfway down my calves and make my calves so fat that they smother my feet just like Clara's? Will you make my belly so fat that I cannot reach the food set in front of me? Will you turn me into a great mountain of jiggling waddling blubber, too fat to walk without your help?

She told me how the last few days had been pure heaven, how before she had been holding back since if they had both been as fat as Clara they would not have been able to run their business - but now all restraints were gone and there was nothing stopping her spending every waking minute eating and being fed by me until her tummy was so full it hurt. Soon we found ourselves on the couch and as we made love, I fed her warm yummy brownie that she had just cooked and whispered in her ear just how I was going to feed her and make her fat.

She said that she was already fat. No, I said, I mean fat - and she knew what I meant and gave me a big wink. You will have a huge fat tummy like Clara's; it will be so fat you will only be able to reach the sides, but as you squeeze its fatness, you will think of all the yummy fattening food that I have been feeding and feeding you.

Oh, please, she said. I just can't wait to that day when I will be a great jiggling mountain of fat, barely able to walk.....



Part Two

Clara looked at me with longing. Please, she said, will you feed me and feed me until I am a great quivering mountain of blubber? I looked in her eyes. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and I understood for the first time the sheer intensity of her desire to spend every waking moment stuffing herself with the most decadent and fattening food imaginable, the desire to bury herself deeper and ever deeper in her own fat. Looking into her eyes, her face contorted with passion, I promised her that I would.

Never never stop feeding me and making me fatter and fatter, she said as she dug her plump fingers into her second cheesecake and placed a hunk between her lips.

I will never stop, even if you become so buried in fat you cannot move a muscle, I will feed and stuff your fat fat tummy.

She seemed relieved; tears subsided as she contemplated a life of uninterrupted pleasure, surrounded as it were by her massive rolls of fat.

Spring rolled around into summer, and Anna and Clara just spent their time eating and getting even fatter. I started working on the garden. Definitely it gave me muscles for the endless massages of their soft fat thighs and tummies. Anyway, as June came around, I loved to bring them strawberries, still warm from the afternoon sun, with masses of whipped cream, and feed them one by one. Ah cream, I have more to say about that. One day a Jersey cow appeared. Anna swore that she bought her on Ebay, but I think a local farmer was somehow involved. Anyway, we had the pasture, and there was no end to the warm milk straight from the cow that Anna and Clara would drink, so creamy and so fattening.

As fall came, it was clear that Clara was not going to be walking much more. Sometimes, she did not get out of bed for days at a time, and, just after a vast Thanksgiving feast, she tried to stand up, and even if she had been able to stay on her feet, her legs were now so fat that she would not have been able to move them to walk, anyway. She fell back into the bed with the heady knowledge that what she had fantasized about for so long had finally come to pass. She was, quite simply, too fat to stand up, too fat to walk.

Even though she was totally stuffed from the day-long feast, she cried for donuts, and she started eating them, one fattening donut after another, while we massaged her huge tummy to help them go down. She barely paused for breath, but in short breaths, snatched between donuts, we heard her moan, Oh my God, I am sooo fat, sooo fat, then she turned to us and gasped, Please, please keep feeding me, make me fatter and fatter and fatter. From that time on, freed from the need to walk, she ate more than ever, such was the need to fill her massive tummy that kept on expanding in front of her.

Another year rolled around, and now even Anna was so fat as to be barely able to walk. One day we were talking and I asked, What if we had, let us say an unsympathetic journalist come and interview us on our mode of living. What might he say?

Interesting, said Clara. Let me see. She thought for a moment:

I was met at the door by a mountain of a woman who introduced herself as Anna. She was devouring a Danish pastry, stopping just long enough to say a few words to me. Her massive body was enveloped in endless rolls of flab, a body doubtless the product of years of unbridled gluttony. She was panting heavily from the exertion of walking but a few steps to the door. Improbably, she had on nothing but a bikini, and most of that was buried deep in her massed fat. She stepped back to let me in, but her vast gut protruded so much I was barely able to squeeze past. She then led me slowly into the house, shuffling forward on legs so deformed and disfigured by great rolls of hanging fat as to be barely recognisable as such.

OK, said Anna, that was me - unbridled gluttony, and I love my fat, fat legs – so it's my turn to continue. Anna thought for a moment:

I was introduced to another woman by the name of Clara. This woman was so obscenely obese as to defy description. She was sitting, utterly naked, on a king-size bed, with her legs stretched out each side, presumably in an attempt to leave space in front for her massive gut. It seemed that most of the bed was covered by this vast outpouring of flesh in front of her, great slabs of thighs and the great globes of her behind. In truth, I was witnessing a scene of true depravity, for Clara barely acknowledged my presence and continued stuffing herself. On the table-like top of her left thigh had been placed a huge cheesecake. She dug great chunks out of it with her hand. Then she had a great heap of whipped cream on the top of the great mound of her belly, in the space between vast lolling breasts.

I watched transfixed as she dunked the pieces of cheesecake in the whipped cream and shoveled them into her mouth with her other hand with barely a pause for breath. She seemed to show not even a smidgeon of the restraint one normally associates with civilized beings. From the endless empty plates and discarded cartons and the mountain of cakes and candies still next to her and all the crumbs spilled around her, she had to have been in the middle of a day-long gluttonous binge. Looking at her, it could almost be said that she was nearly submerged in her fat, in a body that was a testament to her truly insatiable greed.

Clara said, And that was just a midmorning snack; he should have seen me eating lunch.

Another wonderful year rolled around, and it was summer, and I was bringing Clara her early breakfast just as dawn was breaking, and I was struck by the play of the early morning light from the window, on her massive rolls of fat, the slow transition from light to shade on rolls that were almost perfectly circular. I asked Clara, What is it?

As if she was thinking the same thing, she understood what I meant and replied, It is like a perfect storm. First, I just love to eat and eat without ever having to stop. Then I utterly love being fat, the feeling of it and the way when I reach out in almost every direction all I can touch is my own soft fatness. It makes me feel so sensual, just the touch to my vast fat tummy brings me great waves of pleasure. Then I fantasize about things that I eat and feel so yummy going down and how they are going straight to my thighs, tummy or maybe even my upper arms and making them fatter than ever. Then I love being pampered and spoiled, and the only thing that I have to think about is what I want to eat next. Before you showed up, we were wondering about how we were going to manage, especially as Anna got fatter and fatter. So it is wonderful with you, having no worries and I can be totally out of control.

Now also what I like is how you have learnt so well to read my thoughts. I just lie here with my eyes closed, and maybe I think what I would like next is a hot pastrami sandwich, so overstuffed that I can hardly fit it in my mouth and just dripping with melted cheese, and, just like that, I open my eyes and there it is. I don't even have to go to the trouble of putting my thoughts into words. Then you sometimes even read my dreams. Of course, I always dream about food, and it has happened that I am having an afternoon nap, dreaming of an ice cream sundae with half a gallon of ice cream, chocolate and butterscotch sauce, drizzled with nuts and drenched in whipped cream and as I slowly come to, I feel the sweetness of it on my lips as you feed me the first few spoonfuls. I just lie there, luxuriating in my fatness, enjoying that wonderful transition from slumber to wakefulness.

Then I asked, Do you think Anna wants to get fatter, so fat that she can no longer walk?

She's in two minds; she knows that you would look after her, but she also likes being able to walk just a little bit, if only for that wonderful way her whole body jiggles with every tiny shuffle she takes, and I know you like that, too!

Then she added, Changing the subject; you have never punished me for being such a pig and put me on a three-minute starvation diet, even though that part fills me with horror.

I looked at her solemnly.

I shall punish you now for having the temerity to discuss whether you deserve punishment or not. You have three hours to prepare so what would you like to stuff your fat tummy with to prepare you for your period of intense privation?