chapter 19

A week went by and for Brad it all seemed like one big blur. Candy and Ginger spent every waking hour feeding him into a all encompassing food coma. When they weren't satisfying one desire, they worked on another, giving Brad an assortment of sexual pleasures that kept his brain in a total fog. A week can be a long time under the circumstances, at least as far as waistlines were concerned. Brad had put on twelve pounds of glistening fat and his belly just started to hang over his tailor-made slacks.

On the eighth day of Project Just Desserts, Brad was in for a surprise. No Candy. No Ginger. What he awoke to was a semi-familiar face, but he couldn't place a name to the face. Within seconds his mind was turned to mush again, for the vision of lovely obesity that stood in front of him knocked any name or other rational thought right out of his mind. Her name was Inga and she was enormous. She stood six feet six inches tall and had to weigh not an ounce less that six hundred and fifty pounds. She knelt down in front of Brad, wrapped her lips around his fully erect penis and played his male organ like an inspired succubus.

When she was finished, she lead Brad over to the dining table. It was so full of food one would have thought it was set out for a family feast. Inga grabbed Brad by the hair, stuck his face in a bowl of mashed potatoes and told him to eat. Which he did. Potatoes were followed by creamed corn, a dozen dinner rolls slathered in butter, a fully carved twelve pound turkey, and a small ham. Inga commanded him to eat and he ate like a man possessed. He made fast work of that sumptuous feast and then collapsed into a food induced stupor.

The next seven days went about the same way, Inga giving him blow job after blow job while he ate continually, putting himself into a food stupor that fogged his mind and froze his face into a stupid, simpering smile. Operation Just Desserts was coming along marvelously, so marvelously that Hilly decided to stay on vacation in Hawaii for another two weeks, all the better to let her army of volunteer feeders do their best work on Brad.

Inga certainly did HER bit. On her watch Brad gained another fourteen pounds, putting him dangerously close to the two hundred pound mark. His pants didn't fit and he could barely button his shirts, so Brand just hung around in his underwear when he wasn't eating or being pleasured.

And this point Brad was so totally mind-blown that the didn't even notice that Inga had gone to be replace by Ciconella, who would push him beyond the limits of his imagination!