I suppose it all started with the e-mail message.
I had chalked it all up to another piece of spam, that "delightfully"
obnoxious cyber version of junk mail that seemed to flood my computer every
time I downloaded my messages. But this one stood out for a lot of weird
reasons.
For one, it seemed to have me pegged rather well as far as my personal web
surfing habits went. O.K., so I'm a little bit obvious in my preferences. I
liked visiting web sites and chat rooms featuring discussions about weight
gain and body inflation. The sight of a woman growing rounder, wider,
fatter has always been a major turn on for me.
I also had always enjoyed fantasies of growth not just by fat, but by
alternative means. Watching classic cartoons while growing up fueled my
earliest fantasies, especially those of humans and funny animals being
inflated with helium, air and especially water. I even got into
self-inflation fantasies. I imagined myself like Little Lulu's dad
swallowing an underground lake, turning into a turgid, rolling, human water
balloon. I'd stuff my pajamas with pillows and admire my reflection in the
mirror as a roly-poly ball of flesh.
So when I got the e-mail that had targeted me specifically because of my
semi-secret desires, I was more than a little curious. It was a survey
form, claiming to be from a company planning to market entertainment
materials such as books, magazines and videos targeted to fans of weight
gain and body inflation fantasies. It asked me about my likes and dislikes
in the genre, if I enjoyed weight gain versus inflation, gas vs. water, and
self-inflation vs. growing someone else bigger.
I was more than intrigued, and was very introspective, answering each
question quite truthfully, including a few deeply rooted, nearly
subconscious desires and fantasies I have had, some too embarrassing to
talk even to my closest friends who shared these interests.
I sent off the survey and thought nothing more about it until a few days
later when the package arrived. The box, marked with the usual this side up
and caution labels was a fairly good size and weight, so it took me a while
to drag it in from my front porch. Opening it up, I found a letter from the
company that had sent me the on-line survey.
It read:
"Dear Survey Participant;" (They didn't even both to personalize it…Haven't
these people heard of mail merge?)
Thank you for you interest and response to our recent inquiries. You have
been chosen as one of a few lucky recipients of a special honor. Enclosed
please find a new generation of computer, awarded to you to test for us
under the condition that you tell no one else of this device. It is a very
secret test marketing for what we feel is a machine that will change the
face of mankind, and womankind (At least they were being "PC" about it…I
know, bad pun!).
You will find the set up simpler than any other computer you have known.
You will be contacted soon for your reaction to it. Until then, thank you
and enjoy.
Sincerely,
M. Bell
Mammotha Corporation"
Whoa! A new computer! Too cool, I thought, thinking about the archaic pile
of junk that I was using now. I mean, I had watches than ran faster and had
more memory! I dug through the packing material like a madman, spraying my
living room with Styrofoam peanuts to reveal my prize.
Unlike the bland beige boxes, this unit had a golden hue, like an early
sunrise. The usual components, but with a few twists. A mini tower (cool)
and a nearly 20" flat screen monitor (Very cool!), ergonomic keyboard and
an even more ergonomic mouse/tracking system. But it was the cabling which
created a bit of a shock.
Gone were the umpteen thousand different specialized ports for the
peripherals. Instead were just a couple of thin cables for the mouse,
keyboard, power, and the modem connections, and a thick connector between
the monitor and the CPU. Looking at the ends, I found them to be filled
with a set of hollow tubes. Interesting, but not completely foreign to me.
Knowing that electricity travels on the surface of wires, I had seen hollow
cabling before. Just never on a computer.
I cleared my old paperweight of a computer off my desk and was just about
to plug the new unit in when the doorbell rang again. The deliveryman was
back with another box from the folks from Mammotha. This was even more of a
surprise, for inside was a virtual chair. It was similar to ones I had seen
before in the electronics stores. Loaded with speakers, sub-woofers and
vibrating motors, it enhanced the effects of computer games and gaming
consoles. This model, however, was much more luxurious, with soft, plush
padding. It would make a great replacement for the old, broken down, butt
busting office chair I had picked up at a yard sale years earlier.
The chair also had connections similar to the conduit used to hook up the
monitor and CPU. Making the final connections, I leaned back in joyful
comfort and hit the power switch on the tower unit at my feet.
I watched the numbers roll by as the BIOS did its internal checks, more
than impressed by the size of the systems RAM and storage capacity. The
interface displayed a long list of imbedded software and features including
licensed full versions of the top selling productivity and gaming software.
Then came the registration screen. I typed in my personal information, hit
the enter key and watched as the modem dialed up the company's web site.
The logo for The Mammotha Corporation appeared on the screen, followed by a
warm, deep symphonic tone which, boosted by the subwoofers and motors in
the chair, rippled through me with an almost sexually stimulating effect.
"Welcome!" came the smooth, but gender-neutral voice. Was it a soft voiced
man or deep throated woman? I could not tell for sure, but it was very
soothing. It literally poured out of the speaker system like fluid.
"We want to thank you for helping learn more about yourself, for this
system before you was designed with your comfort and desires in mind. With
this machine, you shall achieve a new level of consciousness and be freed
from all worries of society's judgment of your personal pleasures!"
With raised eyebrows, I blurted out to myself, "Boy! Ambitious bunch,
aren't you?"
"Yes, we are!" the screened voice replied.
I sat straight up in the chair in shock. "You can hear me?" I asked.
"Yes, and we can even see you!" the voice replied. I looked up to see the
small glass eye of a video camera pop up out of the top of the monitor. The
screen immediately switched to reveal the camera's view, showing me resting
in the chair.
I suddenly felt very naked, even though I was wearing a pair of shorts.
"Hey!" I exclaimed. "You guys ever hear of invasion of privacy?"
"Yes, but the release you signed allows for this. Page 12, paragraph five,
subheading b." the voice said. "Besides, you're gonna love what happens next!"
I was not liking this one bit. I reached for the power switch on the CPU
when I felt a moist puff of air on my face. I suddenly found myself
collapsing back in the chair, weak, limp, and unable to move.
"Now, now… You know you shouldn't turn the power off on the machine in the
middle of the program! Just sit back while we get you ready."
The shock from what had just happened wasn't enough for me to ignore what
was going on around me. I watched as the chair and the CPU began to change,
unfold, morph before my very eyes. What I could not witness with my own
eyes, the monitor displayed.
The case of the computer had opened up, the sides curling outwards like the
petals of a techno-organic flower. The chair was reacting in a similar
fashion.
"When we found that you had certain fantasies, through your surfing habits
on the web, we sent you the survey to probe deeper into them. You were
quite honest with your answers, especially some of the more unique desires
for self inflation and weight gain."
This last statement was given added "weight" as I saw a series of small
tubes begin to curl and extend out of the chair. The CPU case had opened to
reveal a polished silver tank and what I assumed could only be a pump. The
true nature of the hollow tubes in the conduit became frighteningly
apparent. Yet, whether it was the paralyzing drug spray, the soothing
voice, the long submerged fantasies of my youth, or a combination of all
three, I wasn't in fear, just a bemused stupor.
"For years, we at the Mammotha Society have covertly supported size
acceptance of those people who desire a larger figure, whether it be male
or female, of themselves or their partners. But what many members didn't
realize was that the society was founded by an ancient race not of this
Earth, but a life form born far beyond this star cluster."
"We needed new life, for our world had long since ceased pouring forth the
life giving nectar which sustained us. We fanned out in all directions, one
ship landing here on this wonderfully inviting blue-green orb several
hundred years ago. We found its people soft, plump, perfect for sating our
hunger."
My eyes must have bugged out at this, for the response was immediate.
"No, no, no!" exclaimed the voice. "We don't devour our partners. We feed
through sex, milking our nourishment from them. You shall see, but first,
we need to make some changes. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. I know
we will."
I watched as the tubes moved in a hypnotic motion, akin to a serpent's.
Smaller tubes slowly wound their way towards different orifices of my body.
One snaked its way into my belly, with the smallest hint of pressure as it
passed through the navel. The same sensation came from my anus as an unseen
tube slid easily into my butt. I then felt it expand, stretching the
opening to accommodate it's growing diameter. Another hose between my legs
grew in a similar fashion, sliding up the leg of my shorts and closing
around my cock, which had, with no real surprise, grown longer and stiffer
with the fantasies running rampant in my head.
Two more thin tubes fastened themselves on my nipples, giving me a even
more interesting image spurred on by many visits to breast enhancement
sites with their amazing morphed photos.
The last tube held no surprises as it moved in the direction of my mouth. I
didn't have the strength, or the desire, to keep it from its goal. It
flowed over my tongue, swiftly depositing itself deep within my gullet. It
then grew thicker, wider, preparing itself for who knows what.
My image on the screen was surrounded a series of numbers, obviously the
readout from sensors in the chair. My weight, 185 pounds flickered to life
along with the words "Infusion Devices Deployed". The whir of the pump
coming to life was matched with the words on the screen, "Infusion Started".
"Don't let the size of the tank fool you." came the melodious voice. "The
nourishment composite is highly compressed and will continue to expand in
your body. Remember Little Lulu's dad?"
The imagery of that cartoon from long ago caught my breath as I could make
out the milky white liquid filling the tubes. As the levels reached my
body, I began wondering what it would feel like inside me.
I could feel the flow of the liquid begin to saturate my lower body, as if
it was water flowing down my legs. But this was inside of me, pooling in my
feet and ankles instead of the floor. I could also begin to feel the weight
of the liquid coming to rest in my belly, growing heavier by the minute.
I glanced downward at my feet and watched in awed fascination as they began
to blow up like tiny balloons, followed swiftly by my ankles. I could
actually see my legs filling with the liquid, swelling them. Next the
calves grew heavy and fat, bulging backwards, the growth moving towards my
thighs.
I knew, however, I would not be seeing their growth for long, for my belly
was beginning to grow as well. The fluid was stretching my gut outward. I
could feel the pressure, but with no pain or discomfort. My cock grew
stiffer at the sight, the hose growing fuller to accommodate my pleasure
without constricting it. I noticed that no fluid was flowing into my
stiffening member. It was then I thought back to my unseen guest mentioning
of "milking" being part of the process.
I felt more of the "composite" finding it's way into my ass cheeks, blowing
them up and outwards. I could feel the fabric of my shorts begin to stretch
and slide underneath them. I was glad I wasn't wearing my tight jeans
today. I knew (or at least had sub-consciously hoped) however, that they
wouldn't last for long under the pressure that was coming.
My thighs were bulging both out to the side and moving together at the same
time, growing thicker, rounder, more swollen as I watched. All of the
sudden, I felt the chair move underneath me. The mechanics buried under my
swiftly growing flesh were adjusting the chair to accommodate my changing
size. My legs and ass cheeks slid sideways to a freer, more comfortable
position.
How far my legs would move, I wouldn't see from here, because my belly had
now grown to a size making me resemble a well-overdue pregnant woman with
triplets. I wished I could move my arms to caress the still swelling orb
that was my gut, but I could only watch as it grew bigger and bigger,
filling my lap and concealing my now tree trunk sized legs under it's bulk.
I felt the fabric of my shorts rend themselves to shreds, allowing my ass
and belly to flow forth in a rushing wave.
I now noticed my chest was growing as well. Two very feminine breasts now
came to rest atop my bloated belly, the nipples as stiff and hard as my
cock. I guessed they would need a 38-DD cup if I wore a bra.
I began to notice that my arms had finally began to catch up with the rest
of me. Limp at my side and cradled by the chair's armrests, they began to
change in the same way my feet did. First the fingers swelled like plumping
hot dogs, then the definition on the back of my hand was lost, buried
forever I imagine. The forearms bloated, followed swiftly by my upper arms,
which began to flow over my elbows, hanging off them like melting cheese.
I glanced up at the screen and blinked at the figure of the new me on the
screen. I barely recognized the sight of a candidate for a circus fat man
before my eyes. I was mostly bottom heavy, but I could easily be confused
for that infamous cartoon image I had grown fond of many years before. And
as I watched, I grew some more. Wave like ripples criss-crossed my body as
more and more of the liquid was pumped into my bloated body. My flesh
flowed and shifted, folding over itself in thick rolls. My belly had filled
my expanded lap and begun to grow past my knees, threatening to cascade
over them. My breasts now resembled two beachballs, swollen and stretched
with fluid, much liked the unbelievably huge morphed photos I admired on
some web pages.
The numbers on the screen had shown my weight had surpassed the 500-pound
mark. I couldn't help but smile. My deep-seated glee was obvious to someone
else as well.
"Well, aren't we the blubbery boy?" came a chuckle from my unseen
companion. "My, you do look very tasty, but so pitifully small. We'll just
have to do something about that!"
I could hear the whine of the pump rise in pitch and volume as my mind
flashed though every single fantasy, every cartoon, every computer altered
image I had so loving collected, admired and fantasized over all these
years. One word came to mind that clearly defined what I was about to become.
"Blimp!" I thought to myself.
Indeed, I found myself growing faster than before. The single pound digits
on the screen became a blur as the weight counter suddenly jumped upwards
in tens of pounds per second. I could only stare at the screen, for my
rising breasts blocked my view.
600 pounds came and went, as did 700, 800, and 900. As the counter went
into quadruple digits, I didn't care how much I weighed. I only watched in
awe as I grew large, rounder, rising like overly yeasty bread dough, soon
losing many of the traces that I was even human, let alone a man or woman.
I was sexless, amorphic, a head floating of a sea of flesh.
I slowly found that I could begin to move my arms, the effects of the nerve
paralyzing spray wearing off. But, even with control returned, the sheer
weight of the fattened flesh made movement nearly impossible.
I heard a tone come from the system and saw the words "Infusion Complete"
appear on the screen. I glanced at the weight counter and as the tubes
began to retract from most of my body, I saw that I now weighed 2,453 pounds!
I was a one ton plus blimp of flowing flesh. I then heard gurgling noises
coming from deep within me and felt a strange sensation spread through my
body.
As if in answer to an unspoken question, my observer commented, "The
composite is now metamorphosing from a fluid state into a more solid form,
congealing into fat."
I was still growing, but much slower than before. The bottom heavy nature
of my body was now become one more of uniform growth. I could feel my head
being pushed up and back as thick rolls of flesh formed huge multiple chins
around it. I could see my body become more spherical on the monitor screen.
I wasn't gaining any more weight, but I was swelling into a more uniform
shape. My shoulders rose, trapping my head between them. My breasts rose
and swelled, changing from their slight flattened state to become two perky
nippled orbs with fur.
It was then I noticed that one hose had not retracted with the others. To
my delight, I saw the words "Commence Milking Sequence" appear on the screen.
What followed was an even more amazing experience than my unbelievable
growth. From under layers of belly fat I felt the movement of the hose
attached to my cock. Like a loving and well-experienced lover, the hose
undulated, pulsated and altered it shape, massaging my stiffened member
like the soft, moist mouth of an unseen lover. Adding to the blur of
pleasure, the chair began to emit a series of sub-harmonics, sending the
low frequency wave coursing through my body, heightening the pleasure.
Although it seemed like an eternity, it was mere minutes before I reached
the pinnacle of pain and pleasure. Thick gobs of creamy fluid burst forth
from my throbbing member in wave after wave of blinding ecstasy. After a
few moments, I realized through the fog of delight that it wasn't stopping,
for an even more copious discharge began to flow from within me. It was at
least ten minutes before I began to regain my focus as the words "Milking
Sequence Concluded" flashed before me on the screen. I felt the hose slowly
slide from underneath the ponderous bulk of my huge blubbery belly.
"Oh, my! You have done very well!" came the complementary voice. "I don't
think I have seen such a generous discharge before, from either our male or
female subjects! We'll have to do that more often!"
"How often?" I croaked, my lips dry, my body bathed in sweat.
"Oh, at least once a week!" came the reply.
"I don't know if I could survive that once a week?" I giggled hysterically.
"Besides, how am I going to survive? I obviously can't go to work like
this. Who will take care of me, my bills, my personal hygiene! Besides, as
much fun as it was, I can't kiss and hug a machine. I'll need human
contact, not some unseen admiring voice! Who's gonna love a bloated blob of
fat like me?"
"First, don't sweat work! We bought your company long ago, so you've been
on our payroll for years. You just got a raise, a promotion and a permanent
paid vacation! Next, you'll be moved to a new house designed just for a
person of your stature."
"And as far as human contact is concerned, it seems that one of your
co-workers answered the same survey, expressing their fantasy of taking a
thin man and turning him into a blimp like you are now. They've been
watching the whole process. We just use the machine for milking nourishment
for our reserves and to keep you from exploding!"
My eyes bugged out once more, then relaxed as the voice said, "Just kidding
about the explosion. But not about your companion. They'll be there any
minute. You know them very well. We'll be in touch. Enjoy, my dear. You're
set for life!"
"But, who is it?" I asked.
"Now, now, that would be telling. Besides, I thought you loved surprises?"
I smiled at the surprise the mysterious boxes had brought me today, but
then formed a rather crucial question in my mind.
"Can you at least tell me if it's a woman or a man?"
I was too late. The screen had gone dark, the connection cut. It was then I
heard my front door slam shut. Someone else was in the house. I heard
footsteps in the hall, then enter then room.
"Well, well, well. Look what we have here. A prize cow ready for milking."
came the immediately recognizable voice. I had heard it hundreds of times
before, from the desk just across from mine at work.
As my admirer and new life partner came into view, I was very glad for this
surprise gift.
And it wasn't even my birthday!
by R. B. Lawrence