Chapter 19 - setting the scales

I had a few weeks to ruminate on what had happened at Laci's house, although this wasn't made easy. My time was split between work, obviously, and my fattening relationship with Alyssa. What time I did have to myself was disturbed by Laci's own impatience. Whether it was a nagging text on my phone or a piercing, furtive glance at work, it certainly kept me focused on what was, I suppose, the "task at hand."

I couldn't be too frustrated, though. I wanted Madeline fat just as much as Laci did. But still, I was entirely content to let Laci and Madeline spiral into Mutually Assured Fattening while I reaped the bountiful, and I mean bountiful, rewards of Alyssa's gain.

After breaching 200, Alyssa's ass had grown exponentially and I couldn't get enough of it. Literally. My hands were dwarfed by a single cheek, and no matter how many times I grabbed and groped, my palms still overflowed with lard. She was round and wide, her childbearing hips begging to be dicked down.

Her newfound width, however, was beginning to get in the way and, being the fattest of the crew, perhaps she figured her job security was on the line. Not that our boss was hire happy by any stretch, but better safe than sorry, I guess. In a few more pounds Alyssa would be as wide as two of me put together, and I think she knew she couldn't control herself anymore.

She certainly wasn't morbidly obese yet, but the size of her ass made it difficult to work around her whenever we got busy. Laci and I had no problem sidling up against Alyssa's cushioned hips while making pizzas, but productivity-wise it wasn't exactly optimal.

Ultimately, it was that fat ass of hers that gave me my solution. Knowing her current situation wasn't sustainable, Alyssa had taken up a cushy customer service job at some mall clothing outlet. Her southern hospitality was probably resume enough, I reckoned. Besides, I'd rather have her sitting on her expanding ass than on her feet slaving away over pizzas. Although working in food service had the perk of virtually unlimited goodies, I could only hope she'd keep herself well fed.

Either way, customer service apparently paid a hell of a lot better than some local pizza joint, because Alyssa had to start cutting her hours. I saw her enough during our, how you say, extracurriculars, so I wasn't upset. I could easily keep her gain on track.

What I was, however, was excited. This was the opportunity I had been waiting for. Every hour spent around endless pizza and my insidious manipulation was an hour getting plumper and plumper. Alyssa had just freed up several shifts and I knew exactly who they were going to.

Madeline.

I decided to pitch my plan to Laci after one of my shifts. If I wasn't at work, the gym, or with Alyssa, I sure as hell was with Laci. We had surprisingly a lot in common, both being insatiable feeders, and all. This girl that I had pegged for a vapid bimbo, was delightfully twisted.

Although I had promised to shift my focus to expanding Madeline's waistline, I made sure not to let my meeting with Laci go to waste, but rather go to her waist.

Pun entirely intended.

Laci had immediately become complacent in my presence, out of laziness, I assumed, rather than actually feeling safe from my feeder influence. She knew what I was, but with an extra 50+ pounds packed on her frame I don't think she had the stamina to play the long game.

As a result, she'd often be snacking in her basement whenever I'd swing by, too lost in the rhythm of her consumption to bother to answer the door. So, naturally, she left it unlocked so I could let myself in. Rookie mistake.

I knew feeding her outright would strain our alliance and expose my intentions, so while she stuffed her face I would load up her kitchen with whatever fattening treats I had picked up on my way over. I figured she'd be too gluttonous to question the extra food; why look a gift horse in the mouth? She'd probably rationalize her family had bought the goodies during a grocery run and waste no time devouring them.

And I was right.

Every visit I'd make I would discover every snack I had bought had vanished entirely. And the times I had even loaded up several bags with sugary delights they still seldom lasted the week. This girl was a different breed.

Each time I saw her I could swear she looked bigger. What can I say? I'm a great multitasker.

This was an issue, however, as watching her expand pushed my libido into overdrive. I was in this for the long game, I chided myself. She knew I wanted her, and I knew that she knew, but what she didn't know was that I was intent on towing the line between maintaining control and maintaining the illusion that she was in control.

It was a precarious balance, and I had to ensure that I gave into her just enough without completely losing myself to her manipulations. But every time I'd see her all I wanted was to tear her too tight clothes from her body and bed her then and there.

Goddammit.

I thought it odd, though. For a girl who complained about being too fat to get dick, it seemed much too easy for her to hold out on me. Were her games more tantalizing than the actual conclusion? Did she get more from feeding her friend than actual sex? Was it all just another lie to throw me off her scent?

These theories would definitely explain her obsession with Madeline. Maybe wanting Madeline fatter was about power games and dominance, or just about feeding, or... something more entirely.

If she was actually dick hungry, would Laci be stringing me along with the occasional handy? Wouldn't she just have fucked me by now?

While pondering these questions kept me wary and alert, constantly theorizing wouldn't pack the pounds onto anyone. The thoughts would weigh only on my mind; it could be one or any or all of my hypotheses. But ultimately, it didn't matter. If she was intent on leading me on, then transforming her body into a blobby prison would be punishment enough.

Anyway, after work (and unloading whatever extra food into Laci's kitchen) I descended the stairs to see my corpulent co-conspirator lounging, and binging, as usual. After having been off work for a few hours, she had accumulated a layer of crumb dust to all her surroundings, and several empty soda cans already littered the floor.

"I come bearing good news," I said, smirking, as I sat across from her, reluctant to enter into her mess.

Her eyes swiveled warily towards me as she emptied the remainder of her bad of chips into her mouth, a stream of crumbs tumbling into her cleavage.

"Oh really? Because she doesn't look any fucking bigger than she did when we first started this shit. I'm still a disgusting pig next to her. Does it look like I'm getting any smaller?"

Laci threw the crumpled husk of a bag down in a huff, gesticulating at the tiny shirt that had been reduced to little but a makeshift bra. It looked like she had gained ten whole pounds before the month was even out, and each one had gone to her belly. Jesus Christ.

Of course, I'm sure a considerable part of her current bloated state was attributed to the plethora of pop cans surrounding her, but she was still undeniably bigger.

"It's not my fault you can't control yourself. Madeline has still been dragging her fat ass to the gym; I thought it was your job to keep her sedated and stuffed when she's not at work."

I stared coldly at Laci, not at all amused by the venom in her attitude. Well, maybe a little amused, but I couldn't let her know I was reveling in her gain and her subsequent frustration.

She quickly shifted tactics, swift to shirk the blame and avoid my fabricated anger.

"Yeah, but then you wouldn't get to see me as often," she pouted, trying to draw me in with quivering lips and wide, innocent eyes, "and I know you love checking in on your fat little girl."

She kept up the charade, but I knew that even in her peripherals she could see my cock shifting to attention. Fuck.

"It doesn't matter," I sighed, "we could have both been doing better, but that's no longer an issue. I have a plan."

The mock innocence vanished from her eyes, replaced with a malevolent hunger.

"And what's that, babe?"

"I happen to know that Madeline is looking for more hours. And, coincidentally, Alyssa has just dropped several of her shifts. I could use someone to close the shop with me, and I'd be more than happy to take her under my wing."

Laci's hunger was contagious, and I felt the same darkness creep into my gaze.

"I'm sure I would take great care of her," I continued, "and I doubt she'll even have the energy to hit the gym that late at night. That will make your job easier too, I'm sure."

"You better make this worth the wait, Michael, that bitch has quite the head start on me," Laci warned, making a show of futilely pulling her shirt over her gut again and again only to have it spring back into place.

"I want her bigger than all this," she shook her gut, moaning with regret and arousal as the contents jostled inside. "I want to look like the skinny friend next to her. I want little miss fit to not fit into any of her clothes. Make her a blimp, baby."

"Then maybe you should slow down, fatty," I teased, rising to leave, "I don't know how long it'll take to break her in. Not everyone is as degenerate as you."

Laci huffed with annoyance, crossing her arms across her sagging bosom, but remained silent.

I eyed her stuffed stomach weighing down on her slouched figure, trapping her in the billowing cushions of the couch. I looked away quickly, grinning to myself as I exited the basement.

"Don't bother getting up, babe," I called back, "I'll see myself out."