The Visit:
Part II
Morning Routines
With what I suppose was the hardest part out of the way,
the rest of the evening continued on slowly. A few comments between myself and
her father about the current state of affairs with politics and finance as my
love kept on her binge well into the wee hours.
What I found most an amusing turn of
events is how readily her mother had fallen back into a caretaker role. Wiping
her daughters soiled face, bringing her more and more food and drink upon
request, and even working out a grocery list to get her through the next few
days of our visit. At one point asking me for the recipe for the
shake as well to be sure we kept it in supply.
Again, not expecting such a warm
reception I had even gone as far as making hotel plans for myself assuming they
would have chased me off by force and rushing her to the nearest weight loss
clinic. Yet here I sat now, sipping the finest aged whiskey and sharing a cigar
with my future father-in-law. Who, despite his reservations, had begun asking
questions concerning the logistics and so on of both his porcine daughter’s
care and ultimate affairs upon the impending results of such a lifestyle. The
lump in my throat grew heavy, choking on the smoke as it blew around us.
“Well sir, we have set a Last Will and
Testament for her as it stands. She has named the two of you beneficiaries of
her portion of my estates and assets, as well as a notation of her willingness
and desire to live what some may consider…” pausing to see how much attention
my love was paying to us. None. She was utterly enraptured by the continued
hand feeding of snack cakes and other such goodies we had brought her mother
was occupied with. “Well to be honest sir, some might consider what we are
doing an assisted suicide.” The latter end of the comment seemed to still
unnerve him slightly, but with a large sip of fine aged peat spirits his nerves
started to settle, especially when the question began about the estate that
would be left to them. Naturally I made it rather clear that she was a thirty percent
owner of all of my affairs, a fair pittance for a stay at home hog if I do say
so myself. Along with that she did in fact earn a fair sum from the medical
firm I had invested in as a lab rat as it were. A more than willing participant
in trials for mobility aids, lifestyle support utilities, and of course the
slew of medications she was currently taking to keep her ruined body alive. I
may have left out the finer details but all in all he was quite shocked to hear
that the heaving, sweaty mound that vaguely resembled his offspring had a net
worth of nearly 6.8 billion dollars. All of which would be theirs upon her
death due to complications of her obscene obesity.
A gut rippling belch that roared from my beautiful
behemoth cut the silence after dropping that little bomb. Before either him or
I could begin again she chimed in, vocally this time mind you, no abrupt
expulsion of gases. “And since we’ve got the money, I wanted to treat my folks
to an err nice… dinner… out with their daughter!” Immediately her mother
clasped her hands with a joyous smile, her own elated, oblivious voice chiming
in with acceptance of the offer, claiming they had planned on something of this
nature already, though perhaps the options would now be a bit more limited due
to the unexpected corpulence before her, that she yet still hand fed bite after
bite or tipping the gulp mug of gainer to her lips. Her daughter flashed a
smile, only viable from canine to canine behind her swollen cheeks.
With that, the matter was seemingly settled. Yawns spread
as wildfire across the living room and as the old grandfather clock chimed
eleven, the patriarch of the family retired to his chambers. Leaving the two of
us, her mother and I to attempt to heave my dearest off the couch. We both
leaned in and sunk our hands deep into the flesh of her sides and helped her
shift forward to the edge of the couch, at this point she wasn’t even able to
slide the three inches needed to lean forward and raise her herself without
assistance.
Now I don’t know if
she was putting on a show for her mother, or if the extra stuffing she had been
partaking in had already caused some results but it had taken her over ten
minutes just to get her feet planted on the floor in a position to try and
stand. We each grabbed a flabby wrist and pulled as she rocked back
and forth, her gigantic body bouncing and shaking as she tried to move her vast
weight. Her upper belly cascaded over her lower belly as she leant forwards,
pooling into the space between her huge distended thighs. Face reddened with
the exertion, her breathing growing more labored with each attempt. At least
another twenty minutes passed before we finally had her upright and barely
supporting all 850+ lbs. of herself in a standing position. After a brief pause
and I watched her slowly and deliberately shuffle into the kitchen, gasping
with each step. Just the effort of getting to her feet had already left her
starving despite having binged all evening.
With a smile I gave her cellulite
dimpled ass as soft tap as she leaned breathlessly against the wall between the
living room and dining room. “Don’t worry my sweet, you shuffle on back to the
bedroom, I’ll bring you some treats.” She gave me only a sly wink in return
before taking her mother’s outstretched arm and was slowly guided back to her
old bedroom.
I could hear the poor old box spring
creek in agony from the kitchen as she lowered herself down onto the bed.
Finding little else to binge upon in the cupboards and fridge, I turned to the
freezer. While it was certainly meant for the Thanksgiving festivities, I’m
sure her mother wouldn’t mind me “borrowing” the three-layer chocolate cake she
had slyly kept hidden from her voracious daughter. Taking it back
with me, I met her mother in the hallway who, noticing that I had found the
cake, only sighed and gave me a loose hug.
“Just make sure she is always happy…”
was all she said before releasing me and walking out to the living room to
clean up after the snacking.
Opening the door, I found my beauty
spilling off the sides of the old twin bed, the sounds of popping springs and
splintering wood barely audible over her rasping and wheezing. Taking pity of
the poor creature I set up her C-Pap and began to ponder just how long this bed
would last under her weight whilst unpacking her other medical supplies.
Even with the distress of such a trip, I
could see in her eyes that she was enjoying this just as much, maybe even more
than I was. Appearing like this, so incredibly overweight and unhealthy without
any warning. We were both were beginning to feel like naughty teens again,
alone her old bedroom that still had the boy band posters and stuffed animals
of her youth decorating it. I finished unpacking her feeding funnel and sweat
rash creams, “You know babe, seeing you like this, back in this room… Makes me
wish I’d been able to fatten you up sooner.” I coo, petting her exposed belly
and ever so gently kneading into its creamy soft form.
“If you had been feeding me like this
since high school...” she trailed of for a moment, catching her breath and
trying to fathom the would-be reality. “Fuck, I’d easily weigh a ton by now!”
She was beaming, fondling her upper belly beside my hand.
“Only a ton?” I stammer, having turned
and now leaning onto the dome of her belly, face perched between her breasts.
She chuckled deeply, for a brief moment before becoming winded.
“I said easily, knowing you I’d fill
this room and more if you’d had me as your little piggy for the past fifteen
years.” With a sly wink she jiggled herself under me, feeling the stiffening of
my arousal pressing into the softness of her curves. I’m not sure if it was me,
the situation, or the smell of the chocolate cake I had placed on the bedside
table when I entered, but she was feeling rather frisky. While to some the
struggle of her trying to roll over on her own for a solid fifteen minutes
would have been a deterrent, to us, well this was mere foreplay.
After much wobbling
and shaking, catching her breath, she was finally in position. Her belly pooled
out in front of her, a seemingly endless swathe of soft, heavy flesh, rolls
seemed to pile upon rolls. Her eyes fixed on the cake, as my own gazed upon the
corpulent beauty before me. She wanted it, NEEDED it, we both knew it. But then
again in this moment the “it” in question, well there may have been some slight
miscommunication.
As my hands traced
her globular thighs I joking asked her to lift her leg but it was simply too
heavy for her weakened muscles to move in such a manner for any sustained time,
the weight of it just this single limb was too incredible. Thigh fat, calf fat,
it seemed to go on forever. He could just support its weight, no longer able to
get my arms around it’s fatty circumference. He struggling to enter my
mountainous beauty. She seemed to care as much about my struggles as I did her
own. Besides, she just wanted to eat. She was aware of her body rocking back
and forth, but all she cared about was cake. More. Cake.
As her mind was
preoccupied with the food before her, my own was soaring with the thoughts and
hopes for what we might discover tomorrow. Insane numbers raced through my
mind, stiffening my already throbbing manhood as it forced its way in her fat
constricted cunt. My fit body, slamming hard into the folds and bulges of her
adipose distorted form sent both her and I reeling into the night with
escalated passions. Her exhaustion of existence, combined with the stimulus
begun taking its toll, her already her hypertension reddened face grew a deeper
shade of crimson, crumbs of cake sputtering from her lips with each rasping
wheeze. Her eyes screamed enough for her choked off breath, cardiac arrest was
imminent and still I plowed ever deeper into her mounds.
I could tell the
erratic nature of her tachy rhythm just from how she barely picked at the
remaining cake. Her waning energy spent more into keeping herself alive through
this pleasure. I sharp pang must have wrenched her chest as her arm, moving
swifter than I had seen it move in months, clenched over her flesh buried
heart, sending me over the edge as well. The warm expressions of my arousal
flushed through her pubic folds, unsure if I had ever even penetrated properly
I pulled back. A bit exhausted in my own right I did my best to clean her up,
address her still unpredictable heart rate, medicated her and once calmed, fed
her the rest of the cake until she passed out.
Tomorrow would be yet
another impressive day though in a different way. So much to share, so much to
do, and perhaps a surprise or two that not even my lovely was expecting. With a
snide grin plastered across my face, I tucked myself between her vast form and
the wall and drifted off to sleep.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Autumn dawn rose
late, as did I. Only having been awakened by the sound of my darling grunting
and wheezing in an attempt to roll out of bed. Red faced as always, she sneered
towards me as if to ask for help without really wanting too. This effort, of
course, was utterly futile as we both knew there was no hope of righting
herself on her own. Once I had finally had her on her feet and settled with her
walker did she slowly make her way, fully nude I might add, out the bedroom
door and down the hall. I heard the clattering of dishes hitting the floor from
the kitchen not long after, it was a fair assumption one of the two older
adults had finally gotten a clear view of the adipose laden blimp that was
their daughter.
“Momma….” she huffed,
“I needa…. ~urrrfff~ take a…. ~urrrffffff~ shower…” Exhausted
already her massive form collapsed across two of the chairs at the dining
table, their legs giving off a slight creaking. A bit of bewilderment struck
her parents in unison to this remark.
“We haven’t changed
where the bathroom is dear…” Her father seeming more annoyed than shocked now,
he treads slowly closer to her as to offer a hand in getting her up.
Still having yet
caught her breath she replied “I know ~urrrfff~ Daddy, but ~huurrrffff~ I won’t
fit…” she trailed off breathlessly. Unable to further the conversation herself
I poked in a solution.
“Do you by chance
have an outdoor spigot? If the hose is long enough I can bathe her in the yard
if nee…”
The
sound of a fist slamming into a wall cut me short. It seemed that despite the
seemingly accepting agreement we had come to the night before, her father now
seemed to have an issue with the arrangement. Though before I could even utter
a word, my dear’s mother place her dainty hand on his shoulder and only smile.
“Dear,” she spoke in a stern, yet soft tone. “Why don’t you go on out and get
the hose hooked up for the kids hmm? I will get the towels and soap.”
With
a sigh nearly as heavy as his daughter, the elder man walked towards the back
door, leaving the plate glass sliding door open for us to follow. Slowly, we
did. That is until upon reaching the doorframe to find the width of my soon to
be wife, was drastically greater than the opening. Grunting and heaving ensued,
but to no avail. She was simple too big to fit. Again breathless, sweating, and
now sitting across two of the dining chairs in an attempt to catch her breath.
Seeing her state, I slide by her, pressing into the velveteen masses of her
hips and belly that spilled over the one side of the chairs, and begin to
express the issue to her father. Before I can even get a word out he already
seems to know what I am going to say. He motions back to the door, “There’s an
emergency release on the inside that pops both panes out, little red handle
near the top…”
His tone is still one
of somber defeat. I suppose this wasn’t the emergency he had expected when
having the doors installed. Regardless I make my return, once again passing by
the thick dough of her overhang to find that her mother has begun feeding her
breakfast already. As she mindlessly consumed as always, another question came
to mind. Just how subtle did I plan on being ins this moment?
A question soon
answered on accident as I pulled the release and both door panels fell outwards
onto the concrete patio, tipping the table and chairs that rested upon it, and
making a ruckus that could have been herd from at least two houses over. Hear
it they certainly did. Those same eyes that peer through their blinds as we had
arrived the day before were now even less subtle attempt to see what was going
on. I tried my hardest not to smile as my beauty in all her glory waddled with
her walker to the door frame as I moved the panes out of the way. Watching the
neighbors and their silent gasps as she breeched into the outdoors.
To our delight her
morning bath was slowly turning into a circus sideshow as now eyes peered from
every nearby abode. The task required the efforts of all three of us as the
“normal sized” people. Acting as clowns to the fat lady on display we went into
motion and start the show. Her father simply held the hose up to mimic a shower
spray as I tackled the application of soap and washing, all while her mother
still continued feeding the massive breakfast she had prepared. Quite the sight
we must have been, the four of us in the yard. I could hear the comments the
others must have been making swirl in my head. “Gotta keep the whale hosed down
until they can get it back in the ocean.” Perhaps even a “That poor creature!
How could anyone live like that?” Either implication brought delight to me in
my task, as it did to my dearest.
The vile
glint in her eye spoke volumes never set in words, her eyes locked on to the
facade of shame and disgust her father bore as a glorified mount for her
shower. She was loving this. Perched on the straining bench, her mother hand
feeding her, father mortified, and me… Me caressing every supple inch of her
massive body for the world to see. My hand pressing the loofa into the deep
cervices between her back folds as I made my way around her.
It was when I
was reaching into the folds of her left thigh that I began to lose my composure
and start to crack my wicked grin. For as I slide the lathered loofa through
the depths of where her fat oozed forth in a great tear drop sack around where
her knee should have been seen, that a half-eaten cheeseburger fell out to the
ground before us. Certainly, this was no fluke, but an attempt to even further
push the limits of the tenuous acceptance and unconditional love her parents
held for her. For as soon as the sweat soaked, sudsy mass was dislodged she
swallowed hard on the mouthful of grits she had been fed and turned to me,
mouth agape as if to say “Waste not, want not.” Even I had my doubts as to if
she really intended to consume this festering mass of fast food, but yet she
refused her mother’s offerings only to nod down to the grotesque burger.
I raise an
eyebrow, raising the wad of sweat and soap swollen bun and stale meat. Her own
eyebrow peaked she nods to me, and against my better judgement I bring the
morsel to her lips and she takes a bite. This, this is why I am so proud of my
hog. She didn’t even wince, just chewed, swallowed, and opened for another
bite. By the third and final time, even her mother was obviously repulsed,
having dropped the feeding spoon she had been using into the pooling mud around
us.
With the
final act of her show now over, the remainder of the bathing process proceeded
with little fanfare. Only a minor chuckle to the fact that it took two beach
towels pinned together to properly wrap around her and then another thirty
minutes to get her back inside and into the bedroom. After the standard
application of lotion, powdering, and elaborate process of getting my porcine
princess dressed, she shuffled back out to the dining room for the remained of
her breakfast. I picked at a small bowl of grits and a small mound of scrambled
eggs as her mother once again fulfilled the duty of hand feeding.
As midday
loomed in the question of lunch arose from my dearest, after swallowing the
last of the eggs. I mentioned that pizza was already on the way, but that I had
a few errands to run before out dinner out tonight. Nothing major really. Just
to pick a few necessities we had left behind. With that I gave my darling a
sweet kiss upon her bacon grease-soaked lips, patted her bulging belly in
admiration and made my way out.
Back in the
van, tilting the mirror I could see not one, but drivers from three of the five
places I had ordered from coming down the road. I smiled, backed away from the
curb and began to drive away. If the little display this morning was too much
for them, they were in store for quite the surprise over the next few days of
our visit. With Thanksgiving only looming two days away, the main event was
still to come.
