chapter 7

24th of April 2012, Sacramento California, downtown small ice cream factory

With Herbie's hacking skills, Angie had managed to get a tour in the nearby family owned ice cream factory. She had stumbled on their products in the Italian restaurant she was a regular in and had fallen in love with the extra creamy and thick ice cream that was apparently made with high quality ingredients and using an old family recipe.

The owner probably thought Angie was out to steal the recipe, which was why the tour was so hard to arrange. What Angie naturally wanted was to get Herbie inside to do the mapping and herself to know what to ask Herbie to teleport.

"And here's where the final product is stored before its packaged into tubs we only sell to restaurants. You won't get this from any grocery store, I assure you." the middle aged Italian owner explained.

Angie smiled and nodded enthusiastically. After that she hardly paid any attention to the owner for the rest of the tour. She had seen what she wanted.

She had been stressed out at work the whole week as the owner of the bar was really giving her a hard time for outgrowing her third outfit in one month. He wasn't shy about telling Angie she was becoming a fat cow and promising to fire her *** if she got any fatter. Cindy was the same, she even went so far as to poke and grab her wobbly ass and bulging pot belly.

Angie could deal with the abuse, but her stamina for working simply wasn't the same and running back and forth for hours carrying 60 pounds more than just a few months ago was making her sweat like a pig. She kept wondering more and more often why she worked in the dump.

Enjoying her body jiggle all over, Angie stepped in her favorite Mexican place and ordered a small salad.

Later the same day, Angie's apartment

"***! No ***ing way!" Angie muttered while she peered at the scale over the dome of her ball-shaped belly.

The needle of the scale hovered at a hair under 190 pounds. Angie ran her hands on the side rolls she had developed and squeezed her thighs that were getting so thick they touched each other when she walked. She then resumed rubbing her belly. It looked pregnant and already had a few stretch marks and there were small red spots ready to blossom into more tiger stripes in case she kept fattening up. She had every intention to do so.

During the past month each new pound of fat had added to Angie's sexual awakening finally reaching the point where she got horny just walking and feeling her fat belly jiggle. Or feeling her expanding body strain her clothes. Or when she felt particularly full and fat, like now.

She had had to use Herbie to replace her clothes two times already and again she had to wear a loose dress when she went out. Only even the dress wasn't so loose anymore. Angie had eaten an epic amount of food at the Mexican and had spent so long there she had to order a few appetizers after her salad to keep up appearances. She had finally come to her senses over two hours later when she felt the need to burp discretely, but couldn't because she was too full.

"Oh god, Herbie. Just how much did you feed me? I'm not sure I can get up." she breathed and put her hands on her aching sides.

"You did very well compared to last time Angie. You ate 36% more than last time we were here a week ago. In calories that is 3870 and 7489 since morning. Oh and you're 91.4% full. You're getting better at utilizing your capacity."

That was true. Angie had to admit she was getting much better at stuffing her face. And for a very simple reason: she loved the feeling. The fuller she got, the sexier she felt. Each new layer of fat only intensified it, but nothing felt even close as good as a proper stuffing.

Angie went into her small kitchen and took out the only ice cream bowl she owned and tapped a rhythm on its side with a spoon. She had been waiting for this for over a week having to track down the ice cream producer and gain access to their factory. She was rubbing her basketball sized belly to make room for the ice cream when she remembered Herbie was on her bed. Once there she grabbed him and flopped on the bed. A wicked, greedy smile on her face she propped herself up with pillows.

"Hello again Angie. My prediction algorithm seems to work. It predicted you'd need me again before the day was over. I have the ice cream factory loaded in my working memory already." she heard the familiar smug voice. Herbie was clearly pleased that he had known she wasn't quite done eating yet.

"Herbie, how much ice cream do you think I can hold right now?" she murmured while stroking her wildly stretch marked pot belly.

"Angie, to reach your previous record of 91.4% from two hours and 32 minutes ago, you would have to consume 1.8 quarts of ice cream." came the prompt answer.

"Almost two quarts. That feels like a lot, I feel full to start with Herbie." Angie purred and kneaded her blubber.

Suddenly Angie arched her back and let out a muffled moan. She had been wanting the ice cream so intently that Herbie didn't wait for a verbal command. The factory made a different tasting batch each day. Today was strawberry, Angie knew as she gulped greedily to empty her mouth again. As soon as it was empty, Herbie filled it completely, knowing she wanted it that way. Smiling she threw away the obsolete bowl.

The ice cream was the best she had ever had. So rich and creamy, yet not too thick so she was able to process it quickly. She went on autopilot. Herbie kept refilling her mouth as soon as she was ready. Gulp, gulp, gulp. She felt herself stretch around her middle again. Bigger. Fuller. Fatter. Soon she felt the tingles return and intensify. Her sides swelled making her angry red stretch marks shine.

The suddenly it stopped. A few moments later her brains finally registered how full she was and she let out a long, shuddering moan. She felt so close to the edge, but so full she couldn't make herself do it. Her gluttonous mind wanted it, but she couldn't do it.

Angie vowed to push herself further next time. With that thought, she fell asleep.