Chapter 4

While Mark devoted heart and soul to preparing the vineyards for the upcoming harvest, Isabella followed her own pace, seemingly involved in vineyard work, but her presence was kept to a bare minimum.
Often, Mark would catch glimpses of her among the rows of vines, but the sight of Isabella was always accompanied by a shadow of distraction. While he meticulously checked the health of the plants, she merely strolled superficially through the rows, far from the efforts and attention that agricultural work demanded, but Mark noticed that in the last weeks she is less energic and lazier as she used to be during her job.

As Mark sweated under the August sun, Isabella found her refuge in the shade, flipping through books or spending time with a notebook in hand. Her involvement in the farm's agricultural life amounted to minimal contributions, and her attention was clearly elsewhere.

"Keep your Lazy ass sitted, Bella! I will laugh a lot later!" Mark smiled.

Under the hot August sun, Mark's face shone with determination as he passionately dedicated himself to the vineyards for his culinary mission. The kitchens emitted enticing aromas, and the grapes grew into juicy and beautifully pudgy, swollen clusters.

Meanwhile, Isabella was immersed in the details of the vines and wine labels. Focused on viticultural work, her gaze wandered among the green leaves of the vines, while her body adjusted to receiving more nourishment each day. Distracted by carefreeness and her brother's unaware malice, Isabella continued to treat him as her unassuming servant, unaware that Mark was attempting to make her an unaware glutton.

Mark had orchestrated a series of moves that made it almost impossible for Isabella to recognize her growing physical changes. In spring, during a visit to town, he carefully planned the replacement of all her jeans.

With skill, he had brought along an old pair of Isabella's pants, seizing a moment when she was away. In the secret refuge of one of the wine barrel, meticulously labeled with an innocent "maturing wine," he hid the old clothes. This strategy aimed to ensure that Isabella wouldn't find them before her body, unaware of the replacement, put them on.

The barrel, surrounded by cascades of ivy, seemed to guard Mark's secret, while the well-studied label offered a perfect illusion.

Harvest day brought an atmosphere of anticipation and frenetic activity to the vineyard. The vines, heavily laden with bulging juicy clusters, promised a bountiful harvest. Isabella prepared eagerly for the significant moment, oblivious to what awaited her.
When the time came to wear her old jeans, reality struck hard as a sudden revelation. Isabella, usually self-assured, tried to slip into the pants with typical optimism, but the fabric betrayed her changed shape. The zipper bowed to the unexpected weight, resisting the attempt to close.

Mark, calling her from the vineyard, pressured her with the typical urgency of a busy workday. "Isabella, we need you here! We can't afford delays."

"Shut your fucking mouth Mark! Im coming!!" *grr*

Isabella's frustration grew with each unsuccessful attempt to make the jeans match. The fabric, once snug, now struggled against her altered form. Marked by effort, Isabella cursed under her breath, unable to explain the reason for that sudden change.

Continuing to call her, Mark didn't even imagine the drama unfolding in her struggle with the jeans. Isabella's confusion deepened, and her anger spilled onto the clothes that fit her perfectly until yesterday. The change in her body, accentuated by the visible presence of lazy fat hanging over the belt, now made the simple act of closing the jeans so fucking near to impossible. This new obstacle to getting dressed was evident, emphasized by the daylight that revealed the truth Isabella struggled to believe. Immersed in her thoughts of anger and confusion, Isabella suspected no intrigue behind her back. "These fucking pants! all of them! Its a joke!? Dear god im not a fat ass! They perfectly fit yesterday, what the fuck happened. Im.. im late! ahhhrg" Her harvest day began with an unexpected confrontation with her own transformation, while Mark, on the other side of the vineyard, silently awaited his beautiful curvaceous creation.

The arrival of the grape harvest brought a multitude of helpers from surrounding farms and the nearby town. The entire community gathered to participate in the significant event, ready to offer its collaboration to ensure a successful harvest. Isabella, despite the difficulties with her jeans, couldn't be absent, and her presence was anticipated by everyone.

As the sun shone high in the sky, marking the beginning of activities, the eyes of every grape picker were turned toward the entrance of the vineyard, awaiting Isabella's arrival. The tension in the air could be felt growing, and Mark, amidst the workers, cast nervous glances toward the road of his home.

When Isabella finally made her appearance, the atmosphere became so damnly awkward. The snug fit of the jeans, secured with a rope on the brink of tension, made her physical transformation seem even more dramatic than it actually was. Every step she took, the fabric emphasized her flabby, jiggly, bulging, bulky overweight body, while the button barely held its place, testing the strength of the cord containing its tension.

The crowd of grape pickers, initially bewildered, reacted with a mix of silent understanding and curious glances. Isabella, visibly embarrassed, tried to move cautiously, avoiding bending too much to prevent the jeans' button from popping; she felt so fucking embarrassed for the first time in her life. The tension in the air dissolved into a surreal atmosphere as hushed conversations and furtive glances spread among the helpers. Some stared at her sizable compressed ass in her jeans, some at her big udders visible from her T-shirt, as the jeans weren't the only thing Mark had substituted. Mark planned this all summer, the perfect way to expose his gracious bloated sister, his overweight unaware cow. With the fight Bella had with her jeans, she didn't even notice that in this outfit, even her chunky-pudgy tits have delicious doughy fat rolls for the smaller cup of her bra.

"Look who's here!" someone whispered, the tone oscillating between admiration and surprise. Others exchanged meaningful looks, attempting to mask their amazement.

Mark wanted to comment on the fact that she has to move her ass and start to work, but he patiently quieted his mouth; this situation is even better than words and will become better for sure in the next hours of harvest. Mark, trying to manage the situation with a strained smile, approached Isabella, attempting not to reveal his nervousness. "Welcome back, Isabella. We need all the help we can get today," he said, trying to shift the focus onto the grape harvest. Being next to his new pudgy sister in this outfit had a strange effect on him; as a simple virgin man at 25, he got horny. What a shame, he wanted to *** right now! She looked so gross, flabby, and sexy! Looking in the eyes of other farmers of his age, the same thing; he was so proud of himself for the first time ever. His sister is being the show of the day; all the neighborhood will soon know he is breeding even an oversize cow on his farm.

Isabella, aware of the attention on her, tried to engage in the conversation, but the tightness of the jeans and the awareness of collective embarrassment made every movement uncomfortable; she visibly blushed, confirming to all her social embarrassment. The grape harvest, which was supposed to be a day of joyful collaboration, turned into an unexpected stage where every eye was fixed on her newfound abundance. During the Harvers day, the most important day of the year for them.