Weight Room Title Bar

Mismatched Goals
By B.J. Morris

I seated her in the chair and was delighted to see her stomach roll over the top of her red bikini bottom and rest in her lap. Her round, grapefruit-sized breasts overflowed her top.

“Now, just relax, honey. You're going to like this.”

A puzzled expression appeared on her face. I tied off the wrist and ankle belts and stood before her. The waist belt was made of a very stretchy material and encircled her thick belly. Even though I knew she had put on fifty pounds in the past two months and added some substantial inches to her waist, the belt proved much too big for her. That would soon change. My wife was now firmly tied to the chair.

She looked at the restraints, giggled and looked up at me. “What's this?”

“This is something special I found in a feeder ezine on the web. I know you've been trying to get fatter, but your progress has been much too slow. I ordered it just for you!”

“What do you mean my progress has been too slow? I've put on over a hundred pounds in the year we've been married. Don't you like my fat, sweetheart?” She was still smiling but looked a little uncertain.

I kissed her hard on the mouth and grabbed her love handles. “Oh, yes, I love your fat, honey,” I said, reassuring her. “It's just not nearly enough, that's all. I want you to get much, much fatter.”

She smiled deeply into my eyes. “You know I've always dreamed of getting really big. I've always wanted to be four or five hundred pounds. That's my goal.”

“Mmmhm,” I said stepping away and moving over to the computer on the side of the room. “Exactly.”

“Well, I weigh two sixty now.”

I busied myself at the keyboard. “True.”

“So, this machine is going to help me reach my goal faster?”

The screen indicated everything was ready. A hum of machinery filled the room. I turned to face her again. “Oh, yes, sweetheart, much faster. You'll quickly reach your goal … and mine!”

“Your goal …?” she queried. She didn't finish the sentence. The wall opposite the computer slid up. Her chair, on wheels, turned and rolled through that new portal into the huge room beyond. And what a room it was!

The room was filled with six stations of automated machinery. Each was producing large quantities of food and, as the chair rolled up to each in turn, would serve this food up to my helpless sweetie. The first station was equipped with a nozzle. It gently pushed its way past her luscious lips and started pumping mashed potatoes and gravy into her waiting mouth.

”Mmmph!” was all my honey could say.

“Yes, my goal has always been to get you to surpass your goal.” It took about five minutes before the first station exhausted its initial batch. Sensing that it was done, the computer moved the chair on to the next station. My wife blinked and smacked her lips, her tongue mopping up stray smears of gravy. The computer was controlling this gorging but I had programmed it to do it gently and enjoyably. A variety of fattening foods were about to be forced past my honey's waiting lips, adding serious pounds to her round form.

At the second station, again, a nozzle was inserted into my wife's mouth. This time chocolate milkshakes began to flow. She swallowed and swallowed, at first resisting. As the thick, sweet fluid pumped into her, her eyes started to glaze over into a gluttonous stupor. Her resistance seemed to melt away and she started to suck greedily on the tube.

“Yes, that's right, honey. You're starting to get into this, huh? Must be the appetite stimulant in the shakes. It should cause a sensation of euphoria as you continue to eat. ” Exhausting the first tank, the nozzle extracted itself. A second quickly took its place and a stream of vanilla shakes began to flow at a faster rate. This would be followed by two more, strawberry first and then banana. I knew she loved Chunky Monkey ice cream so I saved the banana for last in this round. I continued my explanation.

“You know I have always wanted to fatten you up. You told me about your dream to be fat and I quickly agreed. That made both of us very happy. The only problem was we hadn't agreed on how fat you should get. You've always thought that five hundred pounds was fat enough. I admit, for a woman of 5”2', that would be seem pretty big by most people's standards. For me, though, that's not nearly big enough.” Her eyes widened at this statement. I chuckled.

The shakes stopped flowing and the chair moved on to the third station. Cakes, pastries, and pies of all kinds awaited her there. Three arms lowered from the ceiling and scooped up huge forkfuls of each oversized dessert. Each arm took turns pushing the gooey goodies into her now eager mouth. I delighted in watching one arm push whole giant éclairs into her wide mouth, chocolate icing spreading around her lips. More and more sugary confections made there way into her now eager mouth. Her fat stomach started to march its way relentlessly across her lap.

I moved up next to her and poked a finger into her soft, doughy love handle. “Five hundred pounds is only the beginning for you, honey. Oh, yes. You're going to get much, much bigger than that.” Her eyes grew even wider as I said that. I nodded sagely as she continued the gorging.

“I am going to let you rest every four hours, with a good night's sleep every night. But every day you'll be back in the chair. The computer controlling this machine will stuff you more and more so that you get bigger and bigger each passing day. I'm going to keep it well stocked with all your favorite foods. Well, with the most fattening ones, anyway. And it will make sure that you keep eating and eating and eating, getting fatter and fatter and fatter. I've got big plans for you, darling!

“You see, I've thought of everything. See the arms of this chair? They slide wider as your ass and thighs fill it. See the band around your tummy? It will stretch wider and wider as your stomach grows larger and larger, holding you firmly in its grip. The bikini you're wearing is made of a very stretchy material. It will fit you even at three times your current size. Of course, if you do exceed its limits, well, let's just say I'll be right here to watch it explode off your big fat body!

“The back of the chair reclines to let you sleep and, as you grow truly immense, will let you lean back to let your fat tummy expand more comfortably. The chair itself has a scale built into it to keep track of your progress. And you won't believe the limit on this scale! The additives I've included in these tempting goodies will make sure you not only stay healthy throughout this process, but that you will keep your hourglass figure throughout the process. Oh, and you'll crave more and more food as well. The more you eat, the more you'll want to eat. Oh, yes, so much more.

“I told you that you were going to like this and you will. Soon you will be begging for me to stuff you more and more as time goes by. Your appetite and your capacity to satisfy it with grow with each morsel you eat. And I will only be too glad to accommodate you because it will only mean that you will get that much fatter. So sit back and enjoy, sweetheart! Bon appetit!”

The chair moved on to the fourth station. She swallowed the last mouthful of whipped cream cake and cleared her throat. “I don't … understand,” she gasped. “How fat do you want me to get?” She said this last quickly before huge spoonfuls of chocolate mousse were pushed past her plumpening lips.

“I want you to get as fat as I have always dreamed you could be,” I said as I exited the room. “At least eight or nine hundred pounds. To start with, anyway. My plan is that you'll get even bigger than that! My dream is for you to be the fattest woman anyone has ever seen.”

She tried to say something again, but the machine kept her mouth full. I stepped over to the keyboard and paused the program. The feeding arms slowed and stopped.

She swallowed and spoke. “But, sweetheart! Carol Yeager is supposed to have weighed over twelve hundred pounds!”

“Yeah, you're right. Maybe I haven't set the goals high enough.” I restarted the machine and increased its speed. “Keep eating, honey! You've got a long way to go.”

+

Weeks had passed and she had been gaining right on schedule. The huge amount of food that she consumed daily had doubled and then doubled again over the period. And true to his promise, she had begun to enjoy each voluminous feeding period. Eating at first with great abandon and then demanding more than even he had programmed the computer to deliver. This continual gorging had added prodigiously to her frame. He looked over at her as she passed the pastry station.

Her cheeks had plumped up considerably, crowding her now fat lips and squeezing her eyes. A thick third chin had formed, framing her face. Her upper arms had swelled out to the size of those balls of cheese he had seen hanging in Italian markets, rolling over and dimpling her elbows beautifully. Breasts the size of large casaba melons strained the top of her bikini. Her stomach had swelled out over her thighs to cover them and to start melting over her knees. Her hips had grown wide as her thighs quadrupled in size, dimpling her knees. She was becoming quite chubby, he thought. He checked the scale and noted with an evil smile that she now weighed 537 pounds. At 5' 2”, most people would say she was quite big indeed. But as far as he was concerned she was just starting to fill out. He decided to stop the machinery and speak with her.

He walked up to her and playfully plunged his index finger into the deep cavern that was her navel. Then he poked her fat stomach and enjoyed watching his finger sink into the fat, doughy flesh. He fondled her big breasts. “Like your new fat, honey?” he asked.

She cleared her mouth of whipped cream and spoke. “Hungry,” she said, dreamily.

“Want to eat some more?”

“Mmm. Eat. More please. More,” she insisted.

“But you weigh 537 now. That's fatter than you wanted to be, sweetheart. If you keep eating like this you're just going to get even fatter!”

“Don't care. Want more food, now! Feed me, please,” she pleaded.

“Say you want to get fatter for me.”

”Yes. Want to get fatter. Feed me more now.”

“Say you want to get much fatter for me.”

”Yes, yes! Fatter. Much fatter. Make me fatter and fatter. Just feed me, now, please!”

“How fat do you want to be?”

“As fat as you want, as big as a house, I don't care. I just want to eat more food. Feed me! Now!”

“OK,” he said, starting up the machine again. The chair turned on to the shake station and began squirting in the fattening fluid. “But you're going to get positively huge, you know!” She moaned with pleasure. “Is that better?” he asked, devilishly.

She just nodded. He turned up the flow and her eyes rolled back in her head with pleasure.

“Oh, yes. Don't worry. I won't stop feeding you until you are as fat as I want you to be. And that will be at least twice as much as you weigh now. So eat up, honey! I'm going to make you much fatter indeed. You're going to get bigger and bigger and bigger until you're the huge woman of my dreams.”

In response, she just sucked harder on the nozzle.

Months had passed. He checked the scale built into the chair. It read 998. He smiled. She was starting to get quite fat now.

Her cheeks were round balls crowding out her other facial features. Her double chin caused her neck to measure 32” around, he knew. Each of her upper arms had swelled out bigger than the size her waist had been when they had started this gorging, all those many pounds ago. Her breasts had grown to press up around her face, huge round melons of flesh, each one twice the size of his head. Her stomach spilled over her redwood-sized thighs, cascading past her fat, dimpled knees. Her calves were so big around that when he tried to encircle them with both hands, he couldn't even reach halfway. And her ass! It filled the enormous chair and spilled over each of the sides, swelling under the armrests just as her thick, thick love handles poured over the top. She was now wider than she was tall! And still she ate and ate and ate, demanding food eighteen hours a day. The flow of food had reached a fantastic rate causing her to grow bigger and bigger and bigger with each passing moment.

He stopped the machine to speak with her. He came up next to her and whispered in her ear. “Honey?”

“Mmmph,” she mumbled.

“You're getting quite fat now, you know…”

“Mmm. Fat. Yes. More food please.”

“But you weigh almost a thousand pounds now. If I keep feeding you you're going to just going to get even fatter.”

She turned to face him, urgency in her eyes. “Yes! That's what you wanted, right? You wanted me to get fat, right? Well that's what I want, too. I don't care how fat I am now, I just want more. So feed me! Stuff me! Now! I'm sooo hungry. Don't stop! More food, more, now!!”

He patted her chubby cheek and started up the machine again. “Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. I'll feed all you want and then some. I'm going to stuff you to the bursting point every day, and then cram in just a little bit more.” He patted her huge stomach causing ripples to flow all over her body. “Oh, yes. We've got to keep you growing bigger and bigger. You're still awfully thin, you know, not nearly fat enough for me yet. Oh, no. I have always dreamed of you even bigger than you are now. Two or three hundred more pounds and you'll be heavier than Carol Yeager. And at your height, you're already much, much bigger than she ever was. Mmmm, deliciously bigger. I can't wait to see you when you outweigh her! Get ready, honey, because I'm really going to start fattening you up now!”

The machinery started shoveling food into her greedy mouth. She said something that was muffled by the food in her mouth. He stopped the machine again. “What did you say, my fat, fat darling?”

“More food!! Now! Faster! Faster!” She waved her sausage-like hand in a desperate motion.

He chuckled and turned the machine on again, turning up the speed at which the fattening goodies were shoveled in. He imagined he could see her swelling larger with each passing mouthful. The numbers on the scale slowly marched upward. Tick, tick, almost an ounce a minute.

She surprised him when she motioned for him to turn it up even faster. He was only too happy to do so. Clicking the icon rapidly, the speed increased dramatically. She moaned in pleasure. He laughed out loud. The chair wheels squealed as the chair struggled to roll on to the next station, his favorite, the pastry station. Pies, cakes, creampuffs, tarts, and those oh-so-delightfully fattening éclairs quickly made their way into her waiting mouth. Within minutes, she made short work of the large pile of confections.

But still she insisted he increase her intake. Shaking his head in delight, he turned the gain up all the way. The nozzle with buttery mashed potatoes and gravy shot its contents into her mouth, swelling her fat cheeks wider. He watched her for an hour as she gulped down the contents of the reservoir. When it had emptied, she grabbed the tube and sucked hard on it, disappointed that the flow had stopped. The chair labored to bring her over to the waiting weight gain shakes. A nozzle slipped past her fat lips and she grabbed hold of it. Vanilla shakes rushed like a fire hose into her mouth. Her eyes grew wide at first, surprised by the increased flow. Then she adjusted and began swallowing to the new rhythm. She finally leaned back in the chair, totally absorbed in her gluttony.

He walked out of the room, humming happily, listening to the many machine noises that meant food pouring into his ever-growing wife, expanding her even more each minute that passed. At this rate, he calculated, she would fatten up to at least fifteen hundred pounds! He tried to imagine what she would look like at that weight and couldn't. Well, he'd just have to wait and see.

He raced down as soon as he heard the crash, bursting into the feeding room. He was stunned by what he saw before him.

The chair had collapsed under her weight. She sat on the floor, what remained of the chair in pieces around her. The months of fattening her in the chair had turned her into a true mountain of a woman. Her head rested on the wide tire that was her neck, flowing into her abundant shoulders. Her arms stuck out straight from her sides, pushed away in part by her huge breasts and partly by the rolls of fat that cascaded down her sides and back. The breasts were the size of …of … he didn't know what! They were easily each four feet in diameter. But as big as they were, they were dwarfed by the mountainous stomach upon which they rested. It was a huge sheet of fat surrounding her legs and encompassing her gigantic ass. Tiny in comparison, her fat, fat feet peeked out from under the wide sheet of flowing flesh that was her body. She was a pyramid of adipose, a delightful monument of feminine fat.

He checked the computer, shutting off the feeding program. He was further stunned by what he saw there. It had recorded her weight just before the chair and its scale shattered under the weight of his fat, fat bride. 1836. My god, she weighed nearly a ton!

He looked again at his glorious creation. Truly, she was the fattest woman anyone had ever seen. Finally, she was fat enough for him.

She spoke. “Honey?” she asked a little bewildered. She looked around and was about to say something more.

“It's all right, sweetheart,” he said rushing to her side. “You're all right. The machine just broke, that's all.” He grasped her hand lovingly, a raging hard-on tenting his pants. “My god, you're so beautiful. You're everything I dreamed you'd be!”

She looked at him strangely. “What do you mean?”

“You're the biggest woman on the planet! You weigh over eighteen hundred pounds! I always wanted you to get this fat!”

“You mean I'm finally fat enough for you?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, darling. You're perfect!”

She started laughing, her huge body shaking and jiggling, sending another wild wave of desire through him. She reached over and grabbed two whipped cream cakes, one in each hand. Struggling at first, she quickly devoured them and sat sucking whipped cream off her fat fingers.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked in turn.

“So I'm finally fat enough for you, huh?” she repeated.

“Well, yes, of course, honey …” he said, perplexed.

“Well, that's fine and dandy for you!” she stated. “But that doesn't mean I'm done!” She tried to reach a weight gain shake nozzle. After a few futile moments of grunting, she sat back with a sigh.

Now it was his turn not to understand. “What do you mean?”

She struggled to her feet. Ponderously, she took a step towards him, then another, her prodigious belly just touching the floor. She worked up some momentum and took a step towards him, her body shifting its immense weight from side to side. He was mesmerized by the sight of his gargantuan bride coming closer to him.

She spoke. “I like getting this fat and I don't intend for it to end now! I love eating!! I'm not going to stop gorging myself just because you say so.” She took another step towards him. “I want to keep getting fatter,” step, “and fatter,” step, “and fatter!

She was on top of him now and he couldn't help but take a step back. His back bumped into the wall. She pressed her huge body against him, tightly pinning him there with her enormous weight. She smiled evilly up at him.

“So you better get some food over here right away and fix that damned machine of yours. I'm intend to keep eating and eating and eating! I'm going to grow fatter and fatter and fatter!! I'm going to get bigger than any woman you've ever dreamt of, my horny little feeder. Eighteen hundred pounds! Hah! You haven't seen anything yet. My new goal is at least seven hundred more pounds of beautiful blubber. And that's probably not fat enough! We'll see where we go from there!

“All I have to say is you better love every pound and every roll, baby, because I intend to get gorgeously, gloriously, gluttonously fat! Just because I've reached your goal doesn't mean we've reached mine!!

She pressed him harder against the wall. He was enveloped in the fat he had helped create. “Now, feed me, lover! Feed me until I tell you to stop, then cram in a little bit more! And if you're a really good boy, I'll let you get your greedy hands on this skinny little body of mine!!”