chapter 9

8.
All through the rest of the day I wasn’t far from a giggle. Like a cowlick, the goofy grin on my face sprung up at the slightest provocation. I felt like a sexual god. Seeing all those lustful eyes, feeling the guards hands all over my body, stuffing and fucking Abram, it awakened something in me. For the first time since getting fat, I no longer felt dread when I thought about my body. All those stiff cocks and dripping vaginas in the crowd, and for me! On the Ilha de Banha I wasn’t a fatty to be made fun of, I was a sexual ideal. All the insecurities I had built up around my appearance fell away, as I was led from the stage to my new job I walked thighs jiggling with a smile on my face.

Fucking Abram made me feel in control again. Now I didn’t just like the idea of fattening him, I could love the pounds on myself as well. The walk over was slow, the sex had me winded, but it was an eye opening jaunt. The pounds all through my thighs, belly, and tits wobbled, but instead of shame each movement made me feel that much sexier. Even the sensation of my gut folding over when I bent down sent sparks of lust coursing through me.

‘Wow, I am so fucking fat!” I thought, giving my gut a slap, but now it brought a grin instead of a grimace.

The guards walked me to a corner of the city. Ahead was a building with a wide entryway, it looked like a temple. Cintura took me aside before we went. He sank a finger in the fat of my inner thighs, making me blush.

“Gordura, you are one sexy mainlander, but I see how you struggle with your size. We will still stuff that belly full, but I would like you to walk around the city. You need to develop your leg muscles, and walking will make your ass look even better.” With a slap to my gelatinous rear I was on my way, feeling more confident than ever. From the way things were going I would have far more freedom than Abram in this city. I was too fat to survive in the wilds, or be any threat. I was obligated to perform duties for the city, but I was promised down time to explore. It’s not like I was going anywhere. Where else could I fuck my growing lover in front of an audience of adoring fans?

Cintura told me until Abram reached his weight goal he’d be stuffed over and over in private. The nectar was extremely high in calories and had a hyper digestive property to it. Abram could put down ten stomach stretching stuffings a day and still have room for dessert. Cintura told me I could have him back after sunset. I felt a twinge of guilt hearing this, but it fell to the wave of pleasure I was riding.

The walk over was again filled with people grabbing at my folds and shoving food down my throat, but now that I knew it was coming I embraced it. I ate and laughed, hefting my belly for show. I wasn’t surprised to see a small crowd of horny looking men by the entrance when I finally arrived. A guard bowed and led me to a room filled with art and soft looking cushions.

“You will earn your stay here by pleasing the people of Ilha de Banha.” The guard said curtly, “you are a sexual educator, using your fat to guide. These men come to you wanting to please themselves, and to learn the ways to better pleasure their lovers.”

The guard bowed to me and snapped his fingers. From the shadows came two toned men with loincloths, the only thing keeping them decent. They each held a clay pot and smiled once they laid eyes on me. The guard spoke something to them I couldn’t understand, and before I knew it they had scooped oil from the pots and began rubbing me all over. I gasped as I felt the men work cool oil over my belly, in my folds, over my cock. It felt amazing, both the workers' skilled hands and the sensation of my fat glistening. The workers were enjoying it too. Their manhoods pushed the cloth coverings aside, feeling empowered I got a hand on each and began stroking, their heads lolling back as my mouth alternated between each.

“Que bien, gordura…” One moaned, quickly shooting his load in my hands.
“Ohh, fuck,” the other wailed as I swallowed him. After they came I beckoned them to help me into one of the reclining chairs. The oil made it tough to grip me, but after a few awkward pushes I was up off the floor. I didn’t know how this whole thing went, it was my first day on the job, but I beckoned for them to bring in the others. There were a couple I was excited to get my hands on. Instead of going though, the workers looked at each other with hesitation. Their english wasn’t as good as Cintura’s but I got the picture.

“Gordura… com- eat, eat eat.” I raised an eyebrow. The other shooed the first away, making a ‘wide load’ gesture with his hands.
“Gordra stay gordura.” Then I got it. Cintura hadn’t mentioned my own weight much until this point. He said at the start we would both be growing, but I had begun to assume the crowds stuffing me as I walked would be enough. As the two workers left and came back with jugs as large as their heads I realized how wishful that was. The works grinned as one brought a jug to my lips, each of which looked triple the size of Abram’s, the other pinching my nipple.

“Comer!” They shouted. I wanted to shove the jug aside, but the guard in the corner with the machete convinced me otherwise. Unsurprisingly, the fluid was the mango nectar type drink I had forced into Abram. I rolled my eyes, the irony was not lost on me, and focused on downing it. The drink was rich and thick, almost like drinking yogurt, but luckily all the months of eating like a pig made it easy. I downed the first with hardly a pause, only needing a quick belch halfway through the second. It was sweet and sticky, it made me feel drowsy. I rubbed my paunch as the workers giggled.

“Now- eerp, what?” I asked. The workers didn’t seem to hear me. They went to the crowd and spoke in excited whispers to the men at the front. They looked my way, rubbing their stiff members before a worker held four fingers above his head. Four grinning men made their way toward me, their cocks bouncing unabashed. The other worker went to the back room and produced four of the jugs before oiling up the men.

“Have fun,” they said, giving a knowing wink.

For the next few hours I worked my new job. If I had to name the trade I’d call it, ‘orgasm specialist’. A group of horny men, and sometimes women, came into my parlor, oiled themselves up, and had their way with me. I’d be propped onto various pieces of furniture and pose in ways that formed the best alley’s of fucking. I was told unless I wanted to, my hole was off limits. The rest of my body though, fair game. I pushed my tits together to have my cleavage fucked, that was popular. Some liked fucking a belly fold or my ass cheeks. One asked me to jerk him off with my feet. It was a flurry of pheromones, erections, sweat, and cum. By the end of the day I wondered how many calories I had eaten just from semen.

Not everyone just wanted to get off though. Some described through varying understandings of english their home life, what the problem was, and how I could help. I guided nervous men on how to best thrust, how to tongue a nipple or anus, how to massage.

Despite the variety in the sessions, they each ended the same way. A jug of fluid was brought to me, one for each client, and I’d have to drink it all. Cintura didn’t lie, it digested quickly, but each of my jugs were over a liter. After taking four at once I was pinned, unable to do anything but lay there until the next group started to oil me up. It was a haze of sugar and sex that had me drained as the sun hung low in the sky. After the last session of the day was up I lay on my back, focusing on breathing through the discomfort of my overloaded gut. For the first time I had a shade of doubt about living here.

‘How many people came to sex me today?’ I thought, ‘at least a dozen.’

“Urrrrp-” Exploded past my lips, my stomach gurgled, already plowing through the vast supply.

I didn’t want to think about how many calories I had consumed, but I knew one thing.

‘I’m being fattened. Again.’ Abram was much in the same boat, but if this was my daily routine I’d be a complete blob before long. Cintura said they wanted me to walk to tone up my legs, but now I thought I’d have to do that if I wanted to keep walking at all.

“Well done Gordura,” the guard said, peering over my bloated form, “you are requested back at the pyramid for dinner. Will you be able to walk?” I tried sitting up, grunting as my globular belly forced me back down. I wasn’t going to be wheeled anywhere unless I had to, I got the guard to help me, and after a few false starts I was on my feet. My stomach felt like I had swallowed a lead balloon. The weight tugged me forward, my thighs slapped together as I tried keeping up. I bade the guard farewell and started down the street.

‘Dinner?’ I thought madly, how the hell am I going to fit-’ My thought was cut off by the sound of footsteps. I turned my head and saw a band of the old women, bags looking plump under their arms. I tried walking faster but the heaviness in my gut made me nauseous. They were all around me, forcing my mouth open and shoving treat after treat down. I tried shooing them away with my flabby arms but they just laughed. I focused on eating as fast as I could just to not choke. I walked slowly, and by the time I made it to the pyramid their bags were near empty. I panted, pressure in my belly unbearable. Before I walked through the entryway my ass was slapped by each woman, they bowed, and were on their way. I belched low and deep, not sure how I’d ever eat another bite.