Chapter 2 - 5

The patients in the parking lot stare, mouths agape, as you make your way towards the clinic. Every step - jiggle, wobble, shake; jiggle, wobble, shake − you are aware how truly FAT you've become. They continue to stare, watching until you enter.

You clear your throat, dry with emabarassment, and give your name to the receptionist. She looks up from her work and snorts when she sees your outfit,

"Goddamn, big girl, you are not doing them any favors wearing that shirt out in public. If I was them I'd sue your *** for defamation." She laughs, satisifed at her own joke, and tells you to take a seat. A few minutes later you are shown to the examination room. Denise is there, seated at a desk, and her eyes widen excitedly as she recognizes you.

"Oh my god," she gasps, "What...what did she feed you,"

she rises and crosses to you, squeezing and wobbling your love handles, "you're so...so...***ing FAT!" She flushes with arousal and wraps her arms around you excitedly. "You're so soft and doughy," she moans, " God, she fed you like a hippo." She coos and moans and nuzzles your soft body ,then pulls away suddenly.

"Oh shit, I forgot, the doctor is coming to give you a quick exam in a few minutes, we'll have to have our fun in a bit." She gives you a quick kiss, smooths her coat, then sits down at the desk pretending to be busy. A few minutes later the doctor comes in. He is tall and handsome, with pale grey eyes and silver hair. He pulls a pen from his lapel pocket, clicks it and quickly reviews your chart. He takes no noticeof either your outfit or your obvious fatness. Denise gets up, smiles, and addresses him,

"Hi Jim."

"Hi Denise, how's our patient doing. She looks considerably heavier than what I see listed here on her chart."

"Well, I think she might have put on a few pounds since her last visit."

"Hmm, and you designed the diet for her?"

"Yes," she said, "I even sent Melia over to see that she was doing as instructed."

The doctor addresses you, "Did you do everything Melia told you to do, young lady?"

"Y...y...yes."

"Hmm, I see, well Denise, you're a very patient woman. We always seem to send you the ones who can't stick to their diets. Well, let's get her on the scale and see what we're up against."

You step on the scale. The doctor purses his lips as he slides the counterweight further and further to the right. He stares at the number and blinks noticably.

"When is the last time we had this calibrated?"

"Last week," Denise says stifling a laugh, "Why?"

"Well it says she weighs 312 pounds. That would mean she's put on 70 pounds in two and half months." Denise swoons. She composes herself and answers.

"I was here when the technician calibrated it, the sent Roy -he's their most experienced guy− so I know it's right."

The doctor cocks his head, then strokes his chin.

"Maybe we should check her thyroid. She'd have to sit on her ass and do nothing but eat and eat and eat to gain that kind of weight in 75 days." Denise's eyes twinkle, she feigns concern.

"I see what you mean Jim, perhaps we should put her on the treadmill and check her fitness."

The doctor agrees. They escort you to the treadmill with Denise sneaking pats and pinches the whole way.
The treadmill whirs to life and the doctor motions for you to get on. Your fat begins to bounce and shake heavily and in every direction. Your flabby gut jumps and bounces, slapping your thighs loudly. Your huge love handles flounce and wobble. Your pants roll down from the bouncing fat, your loves handles and back fat touch, and rub and jiggle embarassingly. You're so wet, you flush with shame. How did you let yourself go like this, you think. Your large buttocks ripple and jiggle, your thighs rub uncomfortably. The treadmill creaks and bangs with every running step you take. In less than a minute, you have had enough and step off.

You sweat. You pant heavily causing your blubber gut to surge and roll and wobble. The doctor jots a note on your chart. As you stand,still panting, he pushes the back end of his pen into your bloated hog belly.

"You are very out of shape, young lady. Two years ago you weighed 147 pounds," he continues to jab at your heavy belly for emphasis, "You now weigh 312. That's more than double your ideal weight. Now Denise here is going to give you a diet, I suggest you stick to it, to... the... letter. Do you understand?"

"Yes (pant), yes, thank you (pant,)Doctor."

"Good." And with that he snaps your chart closed, hands it to Denise and leaves.
Denise smiles devilishly. She approaches slowly like a cat after prey.

"Did my piggy get a little too fat to workout?" She whispers seductively, "I bet you loved every box of treats I sent you, didn't you, you fat ***ing whale."

She grabs your belly with both hands and tests its weight.

"Oh my, my, my piggy, look at all this chub I've put on you. You've been soooo greedy these past months. Melia told me how powerless you are around food now. You'll never be thin again will you, hog?"

You pant excitedly. "Oh god, no I -" from out of nowhere, seemingly, Denise shoves a red velvet cupcake in your open mouth. You moan with pleasure.

"Shut up, you ***ing lard ass pig, you are not to talk until I'm done ***ing you. Your only means will be oinking and grunting and moaning. Is that clear?"

"Oink, mmmmm, oink."

"That's a good piggy, such a fast learner."

Denise wipes frosting from your mouth and uses it to lubricate your belly button. She slides her finger slowly in and out.

"Look at this big, tubby belly, oh, it's so soft and heavy."

You moan. You're so wet. Denise pinches your fat mons pubis gently and tugs back and forth.

"Oh you naughty, naughty blimp, you're so turned on you've soaked through your stretch pants."

You moan. She continues to tug playfully. You're nearing orgasm. You grunt with pleasure. Denise continues to tug.

"This is why you're getting so big, fatty. Eating makes you so ***ing horny. Do you like being turned into my abject piggy *** toy?"

"OINK, OINK!"

Denise smiles and begins pulling down your pants.

"Reach under my skirt and feel this big cock I'm going to put inside you."

You reach under her skirt and feel its hard, thick length. You moan desperately. Denise pulls your pants down to your knees and doesn't bother to take them any further.

"Bend over the exam table, hog
toy."

You do. From a hiding place under the table, Denise produces a light blue cake box. She sets it in front of you and opens the lid. The box is overflowing with your favorite creme-filled chocolate truffles. You whimper with desire.

"Melia told me these were you're favorite."

You moan. Warm juices trickle down your inner thighs. You moan again, pleading in your head for Denise to feed-*** you. You smell the warm chocolate and feel your control slipping away. Denise teases at your opening with the head of the cock. You get wetter, wetter.

"No treats until I get this inside you, fatso."

You moan-scream as she continues teasing at your opening. You're aching to be ***ed. Oh god, the warm chocolate smell again. You mouths waters. Denise slides inside you just an inch. You feel you self control slip a little more and reach for the truffles, all you want to do is pack handfuls into your fat cheeks and feel your gut stretch . You feel a hard slap on the side of you bloated, fat tit.

"Not yet you greedy pig, not until it's all the way in."

You grunt in frustration. She slides halfway in. Your eyes roll back in your head. You lose control and begin stuffing truffles in a frenzy. You oink and grunt loudly and hear Denise's wild laughter. She enters you completely. Your arms grow weak from the intense pleasure. You collapse into the box of truffles. She slides in and out slow, then quick; slow, then quick. The nearing orgasm grows in intensity. You begin gobbling truffles, oinking and grunting, forcing your face deeper into the pile of chocolate. You feel Denise pounding into your wide bottom, her cock sends waves of pleasure with each stroke. Your cheeks and throat stretch with sweets and you begin to come and come and come. Denise desperately clutches handfuls of your belly and comes too. The waves pass slowly and the two of you slide softly to the floor. After a few minutes together, Denise pulls apart from you and you sit up, glassy-eyed and floating in bliss, leaning against the exam table. Your legs are spread slighty, your pants still at your knees, your huge, soft piggy pot is bloated with truffles and fills much of your lap. Your face is smeared with chocolate. You grin stupidly at Denise. She smiles lovingly then grabs your chart.

"So should we set something up for a few months from now, What sounds good to you? " her eyes sparkle, she giggles."

"BUUUURRRRPPP!!" is your only reply.