Caution: this story contains all manner of naughty sexy stuff, and should totally not be read by people who are offended by that kind of stuff. Seriously, go do some Sudoku or start a walrus farm or something, there’s plenty of other stuff out there in the world! All the rest of y’all, just keep on reading-

Closing Time, Part 4

by: Kodos

“Oh, hi there; is this the Muffin Top?” My wife chirped into her phone from behind me, “I know y'all are closed for the evening, but I was hoping- Hello? Um, is Chrissie there?”

After a year in Pittsburgh, Kelli and I were on the road again, bumping down the pothole-mottled surface of 95 on the way to visit friends further south. Our cargo van didn't exactly have the most luxurious suspension to begin with, and with my wife, all twelve hundred pounds of her, filling up the back two thirds of the van, we rode the axles pretty hard even on good roads.

We hit another bump; I heard a stifled cry and a sound like someone throwing a side of ham at a gong as one of Kelli's prodigious breasts smacked against the metal wall. In the rear-view mirror I could see her reaching down with her free hand and stroking a bosom broader than she was tall, a vast expanse of tremulous milky flesh covered only by the thin fabric of a t-shirt that would have been ludicrously oversized on any lesser woman.

“She's off today? Oh no,” Kelli's disappointed words muffled by the noise of the road, “Yes, I know you'll be open tomorrow, but we're driving to visit friends in Georgia and by morning we need to be another four hundred miles south of the city!”

The Muffin Top, as it so happens, is most unusual pastry shop- well, maybe not that unusual- the practical effect of most bakeries is probably that they help women pack on the pounds, it's just that for most places, that's seen as more of an inescapable side-effect of the baking business. At the Muffin Top, they've perfected fattening up their female customers to an art form, which explains why the fit young woman I married was at this very moment, sitting in the back of the van with her hips squeezed tightly between wheel-wells far enough apart for an amply-equipped rock band to stow all their gear.

“Mara? Oh, Chrissie told us all about you!” Kelli suddenly gushed, “Maybe she mentioned me- I'm Kelli. Yes, that Kelli, the one who wanted to get as big as she was in one night before we left town, that's me!”

I couldn't make out the other side of the situation, but I glanced back just in time to see my wife's smile give way to a look of awe, and maybe a little fear.

“Wait, so you did what? Until she couldn't even beg you to stop?” Kelli echoed in disbelief, “I'm sorry, I never would have wanted to get her into trouble. Oh, well as long as she enjoyed it, I guess that's okay. Yeah, I'd say she's earned herself a bit of a vacation, though I'm not quite sure how you expect her to even be able to fly to Wisconsin after that kind of treatment, and I guess if you had to order her all new uniforms anyway, she might as well get to be in the parade after all.”

I was deeply regretting not asking my wife to put the phone on speaker before she had dialed the Muffin Top's main line.

“Wait, you will? That's wonderful; I don't know how to thank you! I know, I know I should be more than satisfied with my body, but after a year at the same weight, I've just been longing myself getting heavier again. I know- not too much, I'll be careful- just a hundred pounds or so would be plenty of fun for the two of us,” Kelli giggled, “What? No, no not if you're going to have to stay late and warm things up again; I'm sure you've got all sorts of plans for the evening. Well, as long as you don't mind, and yeah, I have been meaning to get a few outfits that actually fit me. Sure, I'll just send him by- I dunno- about average, glasses, suspiciously baggy pants- of course, yeah, I'll tell her you sent me- okay, thanks for everything- we'll be there in like, five minutes. Bye!”

“What was that?” I asked the moment Kelli hung up, “Please tell me you didn't just agree to something insane- we promised Vicky we'd get to her place in time for supper tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh, nothing like that; Mara was just getting ready to leave for the night, but when she realized who I was, she just opened right up,” Kelli enthused, “So here's the deal: It's going to take Mara about thirty minutes to get the oven going and warm me up a few snacks for the road, and instead of both of us just hanging out in an empty bakery for half an hour, she suggested I send you along to pick stuff up while I spend a little time at a boutique a friend of hers owns. I mean, it's not like I go out all that often, but I'd like to have at least one or two outfits that make me look ginormous and classy instead of just a ginormous exhibitionist, right?”

“So, I'm just supposed to go and hang out for an hour with this strange pastry lady that neither of us has ever met and who apparently did something to Chrissie as punishment for making you into the buxom woman you are today?” I asked uncertainly, “I never thought I'd say this, but are you sure I can't come along clothes shopping with you?”

“Oh, you make it sound like some kind of force-feeding S&M thing- If we weren't almost there, I'd tell you the whole story,” Kelli protested, “And apparently the dress shop, owing to exceptional proportions of their clientele, doesn't have space for dressing rooms; customers just strip down right there on the floor, and while I know you probably wouldn't mind the view a bit, I'm sure the other ladies wouldn't appreciate you sitting there gawking at them while they changed. Besides, Mara's staying late at her job just to take care of us, the least you can do is keep her company for a little while we're waiting. Besides, I know how much you enjoy watching a truly massive woman hard at work, and if memory serves, Mara is even more impressive than Chrissie, and I'm sure you don't want to miss out on that.”

“Okay, so I'll go hang out with Chrissie's megachonk boss while you try on dresses and stuff,” I agreed, mildly reassured “Do I just go up and knock on the front door?”

“Mara said you should just park in front of Lisa's and let me off there,” Kelli explained, “Apparently it's just a block over form the Muffin Top, and if you walk down the alley, she'll have left the staff entrance open for you.”

“So do you want me to text you or something after Mara finished warming up whatever she's planning on fixing to fatten you up even more with?” I asked, “Or are you just going to try on a few things and then come on over after me?”

“What, can you even imagine me waddling down the sidewalk in this kind of heat?” Kelli giggled as I backed into a spot right in front of a dark-curtained and luxurious-looking store with the word 'Lisa's” above the door in a enticingly decadent font, “By the time I made it halfway down the block I'd be sweating so bad my clothes would be plastered to my skin.”

“So, that's a yes then?” I asked, dodging the empty Pringles can she threw at my head, “Okay, okay, just joking; I'll let you know when I'm done and we can meet by the van, okay?”

“Deal,” Kelli smiled, laboriously hauling her bewitchingly lush figure out of the van's sliding door, “You take such good care of me. Maybe I'll even find a few lacy little nothings here while I'm browsing- you know, things I'll wear just for you, but only when I think you've done something special to deserve them.”

And with another giggle, my wife sashayed across the cracked sidewalk and through the wide door of the shop, her round and massive bottom jiggling seductively with every step.

I locked the van, got my bearings, and headed down the street. Three stores down I ducked back into an alley, the bright, modern fronts of all the shops giving way to different patterns of old brick, tar paper roof patches, and faded signs painted on walls. I passed one of the latter, so weathered I could hardly decipher it, advertising, “Dr. Matilda Randolph's Buxomizing Elixir, 15 cents per bottle- Discounts in Bulk!” when I detected the familiar scent of my wife's favorite bakery, along with the distant hum of a woman singing contentedly to herself. A broad riveted steel door with a century's-worth of paint on it was slightly ajar, and I slipped inside, closing it behind me.

It was so dark inside I paused for a minute to let my eyes adjust; though I'd been here before, it had only been one time, and I'd had more important things to pay attention to than the floor plan, so for a moment I stumbled against the nearest wall, feeling my way towards a shaft of light around the corner ahead, the scent of fresh-baked delights and the cheerful sound of a woman's song leading me along.

I cursed silently to myself as I stubbed my toe- why on earth was there a step up here in the hallway?- and then, reaching the corner, stepped into the light, giving a small cough so as not to startle-

Her. The woman standing there bent over a large metal wash basin was spectacular. I guessed she was about forty- maybe forty five at the most, with thick, dark hair done up in a bun and held in place with chopsticks, red lipstick, and eyes danced with the inner fire of delight. She wore a sheer white tank top, her arms, soft and plump as overstuffed pillows, were bare, while in front she sported a display of cleavage nearly as spectacular as my wife's, breasts each nearly a yard across and hanging just beyond her waist, beguiling in their pliable heaviness. As she moved, they rolled and surged, barely contained as if the moon herself governed their tides, the way the straps of her bra dug deep into her shoulders attesting to just how much weight they were compelled to bear. Though her skin was fair, a blush of red splashed across her face and her bosom- the heat of the kitchen testing her body.

As she turned to see me, I realized just how splendidly self-indulgent her belly was as well, half -hidden beneath her voluminous bust, half testing the seams of a pair of blue jeans that looked as if they might could been painted on to her. Behind, she was even more impressive, her opulent rear stretching the denim as taut, her ass even more prodigiously overfed than Kelli's, swaying along with her expansive hips and looking for all the world as if someone had poured half a ton of gelatin into her straining jeans, full, wobbling rolls of fat spilling over the back of her waistband, and as she took a step towards me, I saw she was balanced atop a pair of high heels that looked altogether inadequate for supporting a woman of even half her girth, to say nothing of how well-suited they were for working in a bakery full of tile floors and soapy basins.

“Well hello there, darling,” she said, looking up from her basin of dishes, her voice smooth, southern, and sultry, “You must be Kelli's husband, here to pick up a few treats for your lovely wife. They may take a little longer than I told her over the phone; I forgot I had to get these pans soaking before I call it a day, so I hope she won't mind waiting too much.”

“What- uh, no,” I stammered, feeling myself blushing at the attention of the sensually-shaped proprietress, “Actually, she seemed pretty happy for an excuse to visit that dress shop you mentioned- I don't think she'll even notice if it takes me a few minutes longer to get back.”

“Mmm, wonderful; I'm Mara, by the way,” she purred, stepping from behind the tub of dishes, small patches of her top nearly see-through where the soapy water had splashed against her body. She looked me up and down intently- it was unnerving, though I reminded myself that just a few seconds before I'd been giving her the same treatment, “So you two lovebirds are the ones that Chrissie shared all my latest culinary experiments with?”

“Um, I guess?” I asked, suddenly wishing that I'd insisted Kelli came along with me, “I mean, yeah- unless you've done anything new since then.”

“Oh, I'm always working on something new,” Mara said, giving me a knowing glance, and gesturing at a counter full of old-fashioned milk bottles along one wall of the kitchen, “For instance, all these are a new recipe I've been perfecting that I think is going to be very popular once I'm scaled-up for mass production.”

“That sounds cool,” I blithered, relieved at the chance to make small talk instead of discussing my wife and I's- reactions- to Mara's cooking, “What's it do?”

“Mmm, right to the point- I like that in a man,” Mara said as she swayed over to the counter- her opulent ass following her like mountain of whipped cream in an earthquake- as she picked up one bottle of the thick, milk-colored liquid, “I'm sure I don't have to explain what the sweets Chrissie and I cook up here do for a woman's figure, at least not to a man so intimately familiar with our handiwork, but even when you're as good at what I do as I am, there's always room to grow, new ways for a business woman like myself to fill her customers' needs.”

“Okay, like how?” I asked as the curious sensation of entrancement washed over me that sometimes comes when talking to someone with a lot to share and a slow-boiling confidence in their mastery of it.

“Well- and do please let me know if I get too technical and this gets boring for you,” Mara said, holding the bottle up to the light and staring into its opalescent depths, “I've discovered that, unlike your loving wife, not every woman who walks through my doors wants to be so magnificently full-figured that she can barely hobble from bed to the kitchen and back. I suppose I can't really blame them- after a bout of self-indulgence a couple years back I was at least five hundred pounds heavier than I am now- it was just heavenly- if you can imagine, but I had to slim down to just over a svelte half ton just to be able to get any work done around the bakery that called for more than five minutes on my feet every hour. An awful lot of girls fantasize about becoming absolutely gigantic, but day to day they aren't ready to commit to more than simply being huge, while others, well, they dream of waking up to a pair of tits too big to stuff through their bedroom door, or a belly so fulsome that their lover can fall asleep on it, but they just can't let go of going through life as a size sixteen. Lucky for them, and my bank account, hopefully, the solution is this temporary weight gain formula, or at least it will be once I perfect it.”

“So like, it lasts long enough for a woman to enjoy and then wears off after a few hours?” I asked.

“Ha, it's hard enough coming up with sweets that can make a girl's curves blow up like a balloon in seconds- developing a recipe for the reverse is more than I'm capable of,” Mara laughed ruefully, “No, this stuff is fast-acting, but it takes a week or two, give or take, before the effects really start to fade. It's not very good for a night out on the town for a woman who needs to show up for work the next day without looking like she's wandered into a garage and gotten stuck by the business end of an tire pump, but for a nice romantic getaway with someone special, or a gal who's kind of on the fence and wants to test-drive life with hips so wide she can get stuck in a hot tub, it's just what the doctor ordered.”

“Wow, you're going to make fortune off this stuff,” I said, just imagining a world where Mara's new recipe had caught on, before wondering if I might be able to convince her to part with a bottle or two for Kelli to try, “So, um, what about it isn't perfected yet?”

“Oh, well let me show you,” Mara enthused, swaying over to the counter and picking up a bottle, “It's supposed to make a girl grow all over, you know, boobs, belly, butt- I've heard some guys even like a woman with thick, wobbly arms- I don't imagine you'd know anything about that- but instead it only does this.”

With a mischievous smile and a flourish, Mara flipped open the top, threw back her head, and drained the entire bottle in one gulp. She plunked the bottle down heavily, and fixed me with an ardent stare. A moment later, I heard it, the soft thhp, thhp, thhp as the fibers of her tank top strained. Her breasts, already massive by even the most bovine standards, bulged gently but unrelentingly from her exposed décolletage, their pale flesh quivering as if an earthquake had developed deep within her body. Then came another sound, the low creaking of her already over-burdened bra as it protested against its increasing load, accompanied by a pained gasp from Mara, who was obviously paying the price of her new assets in tightening straps and straining hooks.

It had barely taken half a minute since Mara had raised the bottle to her lips, but as her growth ebbed, it was obvious that she had gained at least ten pounds in each breast, possibly more. Her smile returned, and she looked at me expectantly.

“I don't get it,” I admitted, trying to examine her figure as minutely as I could without brazening ogling, “It looks like it worked great. Maybe if you drink a couple more I'll see what the problem is.”

“The problem,” Mara said, giggling at my suggestion, “is that about 90 percent of it goes to a woman's breasts, and there are a lot of girls out there who'd rather have a bit more sand in the bottom of their hourglass. More importantly, if I patent a formula that only makes a girl's tits grow for the week, it's a sure thing that someone else will perfect the technique and patent their own versions of it inside of a few months, and then where will I be? And regarding your idea that I throw back two more pints for your viewing pleasure, the other 10 percent still goes to fattening me up in all the other places that weight likes to go, and I'm afraid if I gain so much as another ounce right now, these jeans are going to cut me in half.”

“Well, just give it time then; you've figured everything else here out by yourself I'm sure you'll discover the rest any day now,” I offered supportively, “And um, when you do finally start mass-producing this stuff, and if you're taking orders that aren't strictly local, ask Chrissie to let Kelli know, if you get a chance.”

“Mmm, so as large and luscious as my assistant has made your wife, you'd still like to watch her gain a few hundred more pounds?” Mara asked, moving in closer to me, her mammoth bosom and fulsome belly now tantalizingly within arm's reach, “You know, I hear there are a lot of guys who love the idea of being with a woman who can best be weighed on a truck scale, but when it comes to actually being intimate, they tend to run into problems. Aren't you worried about her being so delectably overstuffed that you can't, you know, give her what she needs?”

“Oh, um, right-” I mumbled, trying to think of a modest way to explain my situation, “It's just- well- some of the stuff Kelli and I used that time we were here with Chrissie, and then that package she sent us last year, it kind of- ah, well let's just say I have less reason to worry about that problem than you may suspect.”

“Ahh yes, now I remember,” Mara said, her eyes focused somewhere in the neighborhood of my belt buckle, “Chrissie did tell me all about your part- um, that part-. So it's true then that you're nearly two feet long and thicker than one of my prize-winning fruitcakes?”

“Wait! How much did my wife tell her and what did she tell you?” I demurred, blushing, “Well, not all the time, at least. I mean I'm always pretty big now; I used to be able to get away with wearing regular cut pants instead of dressing like a rapper from the 90's, but when it's time to perform, well, yeah, Chrissie didn't tell you wrong; I definitely tend to rise to the occasion.”

“Hmm, that is just fascinating,” Mara said, running her tongue along her cherry red lips as I tried to stifle my body's urge to show her what I was talking about, “I don't suppose I could convince you to step out of those pants and give me a demonstration?”

“Wait- what? No-” I stammered, trying unsuccessfully to suppress the effect her suggestion was having on me, “Are you serious?”

“Come on now,” she murmured, leaning closer, barely six inches remaining between me and her resplendent bosom, “I get to appreciate the effects of my cooking on women all the time; it's a rare treat to learn that something I whipped up, just as a cooking oil, mind you, can have those kinds of massive, long-term effects on a man. I wonder if it works on all guys, or if you're just special; you don't have any weird genetic things going on, do you?”

“No- I mean- I'm not sure,” I protested, squirming, “If Kelli were here and said it was okay, then yeah, as long as it was just to satisfy your professional curiosity, but just the two of us alone like this, I couldn't ever do-”

“But if it weren't for me and my shop, you wouldn't have such a singular endowment,” Mara countered, “Or a wife so sensuously overfed that you can probably get lost in between those titanic melons of hers, and from the way you've been staring at mine, I bet that happens around house pretty often once the sun goes down. Please, just let me have a peek- well, and maybe a tug- I mean a touch too. Oh, hang on one second- it's just so hot in here I can't stand it today!”

A moment later, Mara was taking off her top, tugging its sheer and straining fabric up over her sumptuous bustline, exposing roll upon roll of her jigglesome curves as she drew it over her head, struggling to pull her palatially full arms free of it. With a sigh of relief, she threw it aside, her breasts now contained only by her bra, a white, very lacy affair that was nearly overwhelmed by their quiversome bulk. She was smaller up top than Kelli- though magnificently more pear-shaped down below- but her bust was still tantalizingly titanic. Something about the fullness, the barely-supported weight of her breasts made them wobble hypnotically, the way I could see just a sliver of one rosy areola peeking over one cup left me longing to see them both revealed in all their glory.

“Okay- I'm just here for the pastries,” I insisted, “I'll pay whatever you ask, but that is not up for negotiation- I am very happily married; thanks in no small part to you and your business, but the answer is no!”

“If the answer is no, how come it looks like you're trying to hide a five pound sausage in your pants?” Mara pouted, leaning on the counter and cocking her hips at a sultry angle, her expression suddenly softening “Okay, the whole 'let me touch your dick for the good of science' thing was a lie. I actually, well, what I was really hoping for is that I could talk you into giving me a good lay.”

“What? No don't even try-” I said, a dozen thoughts careening through my head as I feel my boxers growing tighter, “Hang on, Kelli said Chrissie told her that you're only into girls, why the hell would you want me anyway?”

“Well, I'll admit that I mostly chase after the girls nowadays. How could I not? They come to me and I do such exquisite things to them- most of them are so eager to show their appreciation when I'm finished transforming some little slip of a girl into a veritable goddess of fertility. Honestly, you can't imagine how they react when after a few plates from my kitchen their perky little tits have ballooned to the size of blue ribbon pumpkins and their lacy little panties are stretched over an ass wide enough to fill the back seat of a '69 El Dorado. Most of them are just so overcome by the novelty of it, so many new feelings coursing through all that womanly weight; even the ones with boyfriends and husbands are usually so eager to explore it all that they practically beg me for a little introduction into just what their new figure can do,” Mara explained eagerly, before turning her attention back to me, “But I was married once, to a man, and while I don't think that's an arrangement I'll be going back to, sometimes I just need it so awful bad- I just get so hungry for long, hard cock inside of me, filling me, stretching me, pulsing and exploding inside of me- Instead of being in the driver's seat, I want to be helpless, to be ridden, fucked until I'm sore all over, dominated by a man, left panting and heaving when he's finally done making me scream- I want to be a weak, shuddering, mountain of trembling flesh by the time he finally pulls as many inches out of me as he could force in.”

Mara sighed and licked her lips again, eyeing me lustfully. She didn't need me to tell her I was interested; the front of my pants was pulled tight as a drum. Mara stepped forwards, the denim-clad front of her massive belly brushed against my member. She gave a little laugh that set her entire body lapping against me- if I wasn't so devoted to Kelli there's no way I could have held myself back.

“So then, what'll it be big boy?” Mara asked, giving herself a shimmy and all but knocking me off my feet as the weight of on one her matronly mammaries struck me full in the chest, “Just say yes- please- and I promise I'll make it worth your while. I'm not looking for love, or commitment, or even for you to pick up the phone six months from now when I've stayed up too late with a bottle of wine and I'm all drunk and horny, just a little fun before we go our separate ways. There's no harm in that now, is there? In fact, just to keep things professional, I'll still charge you full price for the sweets. So what do you say?”

“O- okay,” I relented, “But this has to stay a secret, alright? I know Chrissie and Kelli still keep in touch and this can't get back to my wife, ever. Here, I'm going to text her and let her know she can take her time trying stuff on because- ahh- you forgot to turn the over on until just now, I guess.”

“Mmm, good thinking,” Mara purred, you just tell her whatever you need to while I get myself ready over here.”

“Right- ah, just give me a minute,” I stammered, “She's asking if she should come over and wait with us. Just let me finish this and- Alright! She's loving the dress shop, and she'll just wait for me there. We're safe.”

“Ohh, I'm not so sure of that,” Mara murmured teasingly, “I'm not sure any woman could be quite safe with a man around as well-equipped as you are.”

I looked up from my phone; Mara had unzipped her skirt and was in the process of working it down over her deliciously well-upholstered hips. Just pulling it down a couple of inches released an alluring cascade of jigglesome fat, her lush hips and her stunningly plumped-up ass seemed to expand as they were freed from their bonds of denim. Mara leaned over further, her enticingly soft breasts falling heavily against her expansive belly, inch by inch revealing more of its stupendousness as she savored the opportunity to strip for me. I could see her panties now, shimmery aquamarine, all but buried in the deep rolls above her hips and beneath her bulging belly, and though they must have contained nearly enough material to craft an army parachute, all I could see was where they stretched across behind her, just above her tremulously overfed ass.

“Enjoying the view so far?” Mara teased as her skirt, defeated, slumped down past her sumptuous thighs and fell in a loose heap on the hard floor, a second before she stepped towards me, “Shh, you don't have to say a word. Here, let me make you a little more comfortable.”

Silently, confidently, Mara turned one side towards me, her thick arms barely long enough to reach past the broad-spreading hip that she gently ground against me as she unbuttoned my shirt one-handed, then pulling one sleeve free as she walked round me in a lazy circle, pulling it off. When she was facing me again, she reached down and undid the button on my pants and, bending down and sinking so low I thought for a moment she was going down to her knees, she reached down and undid my zipper, her chubby, skillful fingers exploring beyond my boxers as she grasped my member, stroking it thoughtfully.

“Mmm, I think you'll be more than enough to sate my needs- maybe even a little too much- I'm lucky I don't have anywhere I need to walk tomorrow” Mara murmured ardently, “I can tell you're enjoying this as much as I am- the way you're throbbing thicker and harder with every beat of your heart. Well, I'd better not keep you waiting.”

She walked, confidently, bewitchingly unbalanced, to the counter laden with bottles, each strike of her high heels sending enthralling ripples through her quiversome form. She picked up a bottle, opened it, and held it up like she was about to propose a toast.

“Well, I know there's not another woman in the state as sublimely pear-shaped as your gracious hostess,” she said, using her free hand to treat herself to an affectionate slap on the bottom, “But unless I miss my guess, I've still got a ways to go before I'm ready to pops the stitches on any of your wife's bras. So, I was thinking we might but this batch of formula to some good use after all. Thanks to you, we've got plenty of time to enjoy ourselves here, so how about I drink until I've got the biggest set of tits you've ever set eyes on, and then you can finally get out of those pants and give me every last inch, hard and rough, just like a naughty girl like me deserves?”

Mara raised the bottle to her lips and downed its contents in one swallow; not waiting for its effects to hit her, she quickly seized another and gulped it down just as thirstily, before turning to me, beaming. An instant later her smile fled as she winced, her breasts engorging before my eyes, Mara's magnificent mammaries bloating with fat, the seams of her bra creaking forlornly, its straps digging painful-looking furrows into her soft shoulders.

“Ooh, you'd think with a set of melons this huge, another five or ten pounds in each boob wouldn't make that much of a difference, but ouch, this is getting downright torture already, and you know I'm just dying to push my girls to their absolute limits for you,” she said, awkwardly adjusting her overflowing cups, “Actually, how about you help me out with this, okay? Come around back and unhook my bra for me- I'm afraid I just can't reach anymore without spraining something I might need later- and let my twins breathe free for a change.”

“Your wish is my command,” I agreed, as Mara turned away from me, displaying her massive derriere and a cream-colored strap straining across the breadth of her quiversome back rolls, sweat beading up on the back of her neck.

Mara's bra was a feat of engineering; at least a dozen hooks held it in place. I've worked with cargo tie-downs on dairy tankers that weren't rated for as much weight as her support here was. She shivered at my touch, making me work for it; giving a wiggle so that her tremulous ass knocked me off balance while I worked, inhaling deeply, her expanding chest so tight I couldn't work the hooks free, pressing her temptingly overfilled figure against me and giggling as she felt me growing harder. One by one I undid the hooks, each one twanging like a spring as it popped free, Mara sighing at each iota of release. She laughed as I struggled with the final clasp, finally just grabbing her bra and tearing it off, her swollen breasts striking her indulgent belly with a thrilling slap.

“So, I know I'm not nearly as big as your wife- yet,” Mara teased as she turned to face me, “But do you think these itty bitty titties at least have some potential?”

Her breasts were heavy, soft, and already looked sorely overfull. Liberated from the embrace of her bra they sat several inches lower against her chest, though still projecting out entrancingly from her curvaceous body. Her fat nipples, pointing down like udders, stiffened in the warm air, soon swelling as thick as her thumbs, surrounded by rosy, well-stretched areolae several inches across. Her pale skin still bore the impression of her bra's seams and the arcing tracery of the lace that lined its cups, faint white marks against an alabaster sea attesting her claim that this was far from the largest she'd ever been.

“Mmm, what do you think?” She asked, sweeping me up in her plump arms, her enveloping bosom nearly smothering me, her skin surprisingly cool against my own, “So then, now that I'm dressed for excess, are you ready to have some fun?”

“Yeah, I think I'm ready to play,” I said, lustfully kneading the undersides of Mara's heavy breasts, then giving her a sharp squeeze that made her flinch, “Why don't you get down on your knees here by the counter so I can feed you more easily?”

“Ooh, taking charge now; I like that in a man,” Mara purred, sinking to the floor with impressive grace, “But since I'm down here now, you'll have to bring me what I need to put that wifey of yours to shame, so be a good boy and fetch me a few bottles, enjoy the show and don't you dare come before you've given it to me good and hard!”

My hands shaking, I picked up a bottle; its glass surprisingly cold to my trembling touch, the milky liquid inside sloshing richly as I fumbled with the top. Mara waited at my feet expectantly, her already-bloated bosom lapping softly against my legs. As I lowered it to her parted lips, I spilled some, white cream splashing across the tops of her bare breasts.

“Mmm, you know it doesn't work that way; you can't just pour it on my boobs and watch them swell up,” Mara chided me playfully, reaching out with her chubby fingers and stroking me, “Oh, you're getting so hard, so big- I hope I'm able to handle all of you! But first, you need to take that bottle and pour it down my throat- I'll swallow every last drop you want me to take; my tits will balloon larger and heavier and more sensual until either you decide to take pity on a poor baker, pinned to the floor by a pair of overblown melons fattened to bursting, or you finally make me so immense that I'll be the woman of your wildest, most sensual fantasies, vast, and fertile and womanly in every last inch of my swollen body, and you'll finally have to give in and fuck me; filling me, stretching me with that huge cock of yours, pumping me full of your cum just like you're about to pump my tits full of fat. So get to work; I'm waiting; the last thing we want is for you to take so long that your little wifey gets suspicious and comes over here just in time to catch you with me bent over the cupcake counter while I scream your name loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.”

Her lips open invitingly; I held the bottle's mouth to them and raised its end. Mara drank it down with ease, swallowing half a gallon of the creamy elixir in a few gulps, her tongue trying to get what remained from the lip of the empty bottle as I pulled it away.

“Mmm, I never get tired of how it feels to start growing again, all that delicious sweetness pouring through my body, making my big, soft udders even fatter,” Mara sighed, ardently fondling her voluminous bosom with both hands, “Can you see them getting bigger already, lover? Oh, if you have to think before you say yes, then I'm not nearly blowing up fast enough. Bring me a few more bottles and then tell me what you think of the view.”

“Oh, and here just a minute ago you were complaining about how full and heavy your boobs are already,” I teased her as I picked up a single bottle and opened it, pushing it into her mouth as she opened it to reply, “I thought you'd want me to be a bit more careful about pushing yourself too far.”

“Mmph, I- it's okay, I'm sure I've got a ways to go before I really have to be careful,” Mara insisted, though the way she shivered along with her breasts as they billowed out another inch in every direction, the gap between her lush underbust and the floor shrinking by the same measure, “Besides, it's not nearly as much fun if you're too gentle with me, so don't worry so much about making me uncomfortable. Go ahead, make me drink until they're aching with excess; I'll feel like we wasted this opportunity if I don't wake up tomorrow with my breasts so sore from filling and fucking that I barely dare to get out of bed.”

“You may just live to regret those words,” I needled her, as I popped open several more bottles on the counter, “If there's enough here to blow your breasts up to double this size, don't think I won't remind you about this when you start complaining.”

“Promises, promises,” Mara retorted, “Give me a hard time about it once you've actually made me your own personal fuck toy and I'm not just crying for relief in your imagination.”

“If you insist,” I said, picking up two bottles and pressing them to her lips, “Drink up!”

A little cream leaking down her chin, Mara eagerly guzzled down the bottles' contents, her breasts rising conspicuously as the fattening stuff suffused their motherly bulk. I quickly brought another pair of bottles into position, pouring them down her throat, and then two more, three gallons of cool, heavy cream rushing into Mara's lush belly in less than a minute.

“Ahh, yesss, that's what I've been longing for,” Mara gasped as I finally let her breathe, “Oh, I forgot how feeling them getting heavier gets me all turned on- if another fifty pounds in each boob does this to me, you'd better be ready to satisfy me if you're going to make me drink every last ounce on the counter there.”

Mara's breasts quivered weakly as they gained more weight, spilling out further beyond her massive belly, hanging nearer and nearer to the cold, hard floor. At her sides, I could see the topmost roll of fat under her arms flowing into their opulent fullness, while beneath the harsh fluorescent lights, long-faded stretchmarks beginning to blossom across her spreading bosom, nothing alarming, but rather like reminders a long-past pregnancy, forgotten until a long bout of self-indulgence set her tender skin straining anew.

I gathered a few more bottles and poured them past her waiting lips as well, as she finished off the third one, Mara gave a stifled cry of discomfort, when she lapped up the last drops of number six, she closed her eyes as a shudder rippled through her figure, her hands reaching out low in front of her as she clutched protectively at her growing breasts.

“Mmm, I've been waiting for that,” she sighed, raking her nails against the yielding flesh of her bosom as she chewed at her lip, “The touch of my nipples against the tiles- oh, they must be swollen up large as plums now- the way they throb- Oh, you know once you've fattened my tits up within an inch of my life, but before you get down to screwing me senseless, I might just have to insist you show them a little more personal attention, just to get me all warmed up to take that fat cock of yours.”

The sight of Mara kneeling on the floor, naked save for a pair of overdrawn panties, her breasts swollen nearly the size of Kelli's, her hips, her ass, those pillowy thighs already far more sensually overfilled than my wife's, was tantalizing. I wanted her right here, right now, but I knew I had to wait- it wasn't time yet, not until I had filled this wanton, willing odalisque with far more than she ever meant to gain.

Another two bottles was all I could force into her before she gagged a little, balking as I offered her still more.

“Ooh, those extra pounds that don't go straight to my fat juicy tits are starting to add up,” Mara muttered, reaching for the small of her jigglesome back and coming up short, “Before I got down on my knees I should have stripped out of my panties; they're starting to get awfully tight down there.”

“You want me to help you out with that little problem?” I asked solicitously, walking around Mara's submissive form, seeing barely a couple inches of sheer fabric not yet lost in the deep valleys of her plush figure.

“That's alright, I'm a big girl and I can pay for my own mistakes,” Mara winked at me, “I'm sure if you keep feeding me at this rate, my panties will take care of themselves sooner or later. Besides, what's really driving me to distraction right now is that I left my heels on, and every pound you make me gain is driving them like spikes into my poor, glutted cheeks.”

“And you don't want some help with that?” I asked, more than a little concerned.

“Actually, I kind of prefer it this way,” Mara said, trembling as she gathered up a handful of boob and pinched herself savagely, “As much as I'm a glutton for pleasure in every shape it's ever worn to knock on my door, sometimes a little pain just makes it taste even sweeter. Besides, I can be a demanding little thing when I'm getting laid after a long dry spell, and if I start getting on your nerves, even just the threat of a spanking should be enough to put me on my best behavior again, at least until I start feeling kinky.”

“I do enjoy being with an obedient woman for a change,” I admitted, “Kelli can be kind of demanding in bed, especially when we haven't done it for a couple of days and she knows I'm just longing to fuck her between those fat, milky tits of hers. I think I'll enjoy being with a woman whose desperate to please me instead.”

“Ooh, I forgot Chrissie sent y'all something that made her into a dairy cow,” Mara said laughed, her entire body jiggling in response until she winced and clutched at her quaking belly, “So, just how much milk does she make then; a lot, or way too much?”

“Ah, your girl Chrissie turned her into quite the milker, alright,” I assured my buxom hostess as I prepared another couple bottles to pour down her throat, “If I don't pay her girls enough attention or she doesn't get the chance to pump for a few hours, her boobs just get saturated with the stuff. I mean, she's enormous all the time, but once I went out of town for three days and her breast pump broke down the day I left- by the time I got home she was just laying in bed, her tits swollen so huge I was nearly afraid to touch her, bloated and feverish, leaking milk all over the sheets- damn, I shouldn't tell you this but it was the hottest thing ever. Even though she was begging me to take her to the bathtub and milk her before she burst, I just couldn't stop myself, and we ended up fucking for hours- when we woke up in the middle of the night, her tits were so distended with milk I think she might actually have popped if I hadn't gotten her some relief, but as soon as a few gallons went down the drain, she was ready for me to press her up against the wall and fuck her blind.”

“Mmm, then it sounds like we've still got a ways to go before my little handfuls here are enough to make your wife green with envy,” Mara teased, stroking her prodigious melons with mock embarrassment, “I'm afraid I'm just not ready to commit to being a dairy cow just yet, but I bet with some more help I'll outstrip her enough to win your affections through sheer size and enthusiasm- though the second one is going to depend on just how sensitive my tits get as you keep pumping them full of fat, stretching my tender, delicate skin farther and farther, until just the softest touch against my flesh- your hot breath against the skin of one overdrawn areola- your tongue teasing one of my desperately distended nipples is enough to make me cum and leave me begging for you to fill me any way you want to.”

“You have to know, it would take a sublimely staggering pair of tits to make me forget how much I love my wife, even for a few minutes,” I chided Mara, holding an opened bottle just inches from her lips, “Though I have to confess, that huge, jiggly ass of yours earns you more than a few points on the fuckability scale.”

“Mmm, well you just keep thinking about my sumptuously overfattened rump while you're pumping my tits up like a pair of weather balloons,” Mara said, giving her lush behind a wiggle that sent tantalizing waves racing through her curvesome figure, “And stop telling me how huge my girls have to be before you'll fuck me- just make them bigger and I'll know I've gained enough once you're inside of me.”

I poured another few quarts down Mara's throat, her bosom enlarging with every drop she swallowed. Her breasts, low and heavy and immensely full, touched the floor now, her rigid nipples squashed beneath their yielding expanse, her skin pale and enticing as her bosom swelled to more than six feet across, quivering as if she were filled with whipped cream. She was definitely bustier than Kelli by now, her breasts, buoyed up by her sumptuous belly, rising nearly level with her plump shoulders, and it was easy to see that the formula was having its desired effect on the rest of her figure as well.

Mara's upper arms had ballooned into wobbling pillows of jigglesome flesh, the rolls of fat billowing along her sides pushing them out at an increasingly unnatural angle. Her hips, already so spectacularly overfed that I wondered how she expected fit through the door, blossomed broader and broader as I saddled her submissive form with gallon after gallon of fattening cream. Her ass had reached such titanic proportions that it rested heavy against the floor, her calves, her feet, her regrettably and unforgettably sharp high heels buried beneath the vastness of her round and jiggly behind.

Mara squirmed uncomfortably as I added another twenty five pounds to her figure, and not just from the shoes prodding pointedly at her overfilled cheeks. Though hidden below her gargantuan bosom, her belly must have swelled out at least six inches further than when she disrobed and fell to her knees for me, and her thighs- they had already been so breathtakingly juicy that my imagination reeled at the very idea of them expanding to even great dimensions, and yet, if the rest of her voluptuous physique was any guide, they were blowing up every bit as lusciously as the rest of Mara's body, achingly overstuffed and begging for relief from being pressed so sorely beneath her burden of tantalizing feminine opulence.

“Yesss- that's it; inflate them like balloons!” Mara hissed through gritted teeth, fiercely grasping her fat-sodden melons as I paused to open a few more bottles, “Come on, I'm so thirsty, I can take so much more before they're ready to pop, and I'm so wet waiting for you to fuck me that I'm about to lose my mind. Don't be so gentle with me- I'm the fat-breasted slut who’s trying to steal you from your wife- you know you want to give it to me rough. I want some abuse, pinch me, grab me, make me afraid that I should never have left myself so hopelessly at your mercy-”

Mara fell silent as from the back of the kitchen there was a soft click- the look of panic on her face told me that it was the sound of the back door. I listened; Mara went white as a sheet- I swear I could see her pulse racing in her stupendously overfilled chest. The rustling of a hallway-filling figure navigating the dimly-lit back room reached us, and seconds later, Kelli, my wife, hove into view, a shopping bag bulging with new clothes hanging heavily from her arm and her breasts, clearly in dire need of milking, hanging heavily from her chest, held back by only a expertly-tailored bra and a half-unbuttoned purple blouse. She took a long look a Mara, enormous, kneeling on the floor and terror-stricken, and me, standing there shirtless with a freshly-opened bottle of cream in each hand, and the seams of my pants straining to contain my rigid member.

“It was all his idea, honey!” Mara cried, raising, with considerable effort, one well-plumpened arm to point at me accusingly, “He came on to me, seduced, me- he told me you couldn't please him like he knew I could! I told him I'm not the kind of woman who helps a man cheat on his wife, but he was just so insistent, and it has been a while for me- well, darling one thing led to another and here you are!”

“Right.” Kelli said arching a doubtful eyebrow at the quaking bakery queen and turning to me, “You know, when you sent me that text, I half suspected you were just pulling my leg, trying to get me out of Lisa's faster by saying that Mara was coming on to you and making you stuff her with boob-embiggening cream, but, yeah, I guess you were kind of serious about that.”

“Um, yeah.” I said flatly, not sure what words could add to my wife's view of the situation, “Pretty much completely serious.”

“Wait, you told her?” Mara demanded, “I offer you the chance to have a little fun outside the stifling confines of marriage and you told your wife instead of warning her away for an hour?”

“What can I say?” I answered, “She's the love of my life; I could never lie about something like this.”

“I wish I had a camera right now,” Kelli laughed, her fulsome figure jiggling delightfully before she reached into her bra, “Oh right, I've got my phone right here; I can take one right now. Smile, Mara.”

A click later and Kelli had captured the moment for posterity, Mara not obliging her with a smile, as Kelli tucked her phone back into the embrace of her bosom.

“So, what do we do now?” I asked, not having had the time to text Kelli earlier about what to do after this part.

“I know what happens next,” Mara said dejectedly, “You post that picture online and my reputation, well, at least with my more wholesome customers, is ruined overnight. Alright, sugar, what's your price? You want money, recipes, all the sweets you can eat until you're so indecently fat that we have to knock out a wall to roll you out of here? What's your price?”

“Mmm, now that depends on my hubby here,” Kelli said, turning towards me and catching how eagerly I was hanging on Mara's offer of fattening her up to even more scandalous proportions, “Love, you still feel like fucking her?”

“What?” I asked in disbelief, nearly in unison with Mara, “Hon, you're not serious.”

“I'm as serious as I want to be,” Kelli countered confidently, sashaying over to Mara and giving one of her bare breasts a hard smack that left a red palm-mark on her white skin, “Do you still want to fuck her?”

“Come on now,” I protested, “I could never do that to you.”

“Mmm, I never told you that,” Kelli said, turning, unfastening my belt and giving me a squeeze, “I mean, you're obviously interested in getting a piece of that, and I know that it's frustrating for you when we can't just have sex without taking precautions- no matter how hard you try not to let me know- consider it a reward for being such a thoughtful and solicitous husband, a chance to just lose control and not worry about if I'll be okay.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Mara asked as Kelli shot her a positively poisonous glance, “What is it that you two have to be so careful about?”

“Well, I don't like to brag about what a lucky girl I am, but as you have surely noticed, my husband is very well-favored in certain departments,” Kelli smiled, “The thing is, thanks to some kind of oil that your girl Chrissie sent us, he's got more than just a huge cock going on; when he really gets turned on, something I happen to be very good at doing, not to brag, he cums a lot. Like, seriously, the first time we did it, my belly was so distended I was afraid get out of bed for a week.”

“Mmm, well, it might be a little awkward explaining to Chrissie why I'm laying naked on the floor with a belly as big as the moon when she comes in to work,” Mara replied cheekily, “But she's caught me in some pretty compromising positions before this, so I imagine we'll be able to make the most of the situation, even if she does have to roll me into the back room before any customers see me. Okay then, let's see this monster cock and find out just how much I can hold before I'm pleading for mercy.”

“Hunh, like I'm going to let you get off that easily?” Kelli countered knowingly, “Why, just when I came in, you were telling my husband that you wanted to be the 'fat-breasted slut who was trying to steal him away from his wife' – your words, not mine- and that you wanted him to blow your tits up like balloons until they were ready to pop. Now, I'm not going to deny that you've got an awfully full pair going on there already, and you certainly are a fat-breasted slut, but I think you might still have a ways to go yet before those udders of yours are really at their limits.”

“Hold on a second, can't we talk about this?” Mara asked, suddenly solicitous as Kelli strode over to the drying rack and seized the largest funnel she could find, with a thick hose dangling from the small end, “Just how much bigger are we talking about, honey? I mean, I'm not exactly a small woman any day of the week, but normally my boobs are actually a lot smaller than yours- your man here has already fattened them up quite a bit to make me this size.”

“That all depends now,” Kelli mused, glancing around the kitchen, “How much more of this stuff is left?”

Mara blanched, looking over at the counter still more than half full of unopened bottles, a few remaining quarts, and a couple dozen gallons, a perverse smile crossing Kelli's face as she counted them up.

“Don't let her play you like that, hon,” I spoke up, very much enjoying the sight of my wife taking charge like this, “This stuff's only temporary- two weeks from now and she'll be back to her regular size.”

“Oh, and here I was still thinking about going easy on you just because I didn't want to leave you hobbled by a pair of tits so massive and sensitive that you couldn't even run your business,” Kelli chided her captive, as she picked up a gallon jug of cream and opened it, “I think I'm going to enjoy discovering just how huge you'll be by the time I've poured the last of it down your throat.”

“Wait, please!” Mara begged, “It's still experimental- I haven't tested it enough yet to be sure it's safe yet!”

“Oh dear, unsafe, really?” Kelli said as she raised the jug to her lips and gulped down about half of it, “It seems okay to me, and as for testing it in large doses, that's exactly what you're about to help me with right now, aren't you? Besides I know you and your assistant would never do anything unsafe, like stuff a hose down a woman's throat and keep fattening her up even after she lost consciousness, would you? Oh, wait, that's exactly how I got these all these delectable curves of mine.”

“Hon, look out,” I said, “If you want to wear that blouse more than once, you might want to take it off.”

Even just half a gallon of the stuff had been enough to make my wife's bloated, milk-laden breasts swell up visibly, gaps spreading between the buttons of her top, the reinforced cups of her new bra pushed out in their middles by stiffening nipples the size of jumbo marshmallows.

“Mmm, you're right- this stuff is awfully potent,” Kelli purred, cupping her prodigious bosom with hands far too small to lend any real support, “Come on over here and help me before I burst my buttons, hon; you know I can't reach them myself. Ooh- you'd better hurry, I'm getting tighter by the moment!”

I hurried over, carefully unfastening the straining buttons of my wife's top, which soon fell open to reveal the expanse of her exquisitely overfed bust, her breasts spilling over the cups of her bra like rising dough. A moment later I was behind her, working my way through the numerous hooks that held her brassiere in place, the straps snapping out of the way like a cracking whip as I undid the last one, followed a split second later by the sound of her milk-glutted mammaries slapping wetly against her ample belly.

“Ouch! Ooh, that's so much better,” Kelli sighed, shrugging her plump arms out of her top and carefully casting it and her bra aside, large drops of milk dripping from her protruding nipples, “Mmph, I knew I was overdue for milking, but this cream stuffing a few more pounds of fat into the twins was more than enough to start me leaking. Sorry, Mara- I'll try not to make too much of a mess. Wait, that's a lie- there's nothing I love more than a good mess, and I feel like by the time we're finished with you, you and your bakery here are going to be so delightfully messy.”

“Wow, I would have thought a cow with tits as swollen and overstretched as yours would be a little more careful with them,” Mara retorted, “Maybe you ought to ask your dear husband to drive you to the nearest dairy farm before they're so distended they sag down to your feet. Do you really think he'll want to fuck you after this? Your stretchmarks alone are going to be absolutely obscene.”

“And maybe you ought to watch your tone and remember just who's in control here, you cake-glutted slut,” Kelli shot back, reaching down and giving one of Mara's immense breasts a violent pinch, “If you had any experience actually keeping a man, you might know that some of them find stretchmarks kind of a turn-on, something that you may regret by the time I'm done with you. But first, since it seems we're all getting naked already-”

Kelli sidled back over to me and, with a confident sweep of one ample arm, pulled down my boxers, leaving me perfectly exposed.

“Mmm, so nice and hard already,” my wife murmured approvingly as she grasped my manhood, before reaching lower, “Oh, and your balls are already swelling right up too. I hope this overfed whore didn't leave you too desperate to get things over with before I came in; I'd be ever so disappointed if they're not at least enlarged to the size of beach balls before I let you really have some fun with her.”

“I'm sorry,” Mara said contritely, protectively rubbing a red mark where Kelli had pinched her breast, “Isn't there some way for us to talk about this like women?”

“Oh, I don't think there is,” Kelli smiled as she advanced on Mara's kneeling form, roughly shoving the funnel's hose into her mouth, “But if I'm wrong, by the time I'm finished you'll be too much woman to move, so maybe then we'll be able to have a nice, thoughtful discussion about why you shouldn't go trying to steal other girls' husbands, especially not when you've already made it abundantly clear that you're more interested in fattening other girls up to bursting than just leaving them satisfied.”

“But I-mmmphmm!” Mara tried to argue as my wife poured an entire gallon of cream down the funnel, right into Mara's voluminous belly.

“Oh no, I think you really better keep quiet for a while and accept your punishment,” Kelli teased, hefting another bottle into position, “Anything you say right now is only going to make me more angry at you, you pitiful, horny hussy, and the last thing you want right now is to give me any more reason to think of new ways to make sure that the next hour or so is as uncomfortable for you as I can make it. And don't you even think about not swallowing every last ounce of this stuff- I see as much as a drop of cream drip past your lips and onto those puffed-up titties of yours and you'll be in for a very painful and overdue lesson in obedience.”

Sullen defiance flashed across Mara's face, but seeing the unconcealed rage smoldering in Kelli's eyes was enough to make her expression fade to placidity as my wife poured cream into her helpless body as fast as I could pass her more containers of the stuff. While I'd been feeding Mara and trying to stall until Kelli could waddle over from the boutique, I have to admit I'd been pretty gentle. Sure, I was trying to drag things out a bit, but I still remembered how unbearably sore Kelli had been after her two big gaining sessions, how even after she was done growing, she'd been worried that she might have overdone things- that she'd put on so much weight that she'd never be able to walk, or that the creaking of her oversaturated breasts and belly threatened consequences far more dire than just an impressive set of stretchmarks. Kelli, having endured two such excessive bursts of weight gain herself, was without sympathy for her hostage. Whether she harbored some long-buried resentment at the woman she took to be the author of her fears the night she had shuddered and moaned in this very kitchen as she felt herself being so sadistically overfilled by Chrissie, or whether simply consumed with fury by another woman trying to tempt her husband into faithlessness and happy to mete out hurt and humiliation with whatever weapon was at hand, Kelli was deaf to Mara's obvious discomfort as she forced her to gulp down quart after quart of cream.

Mara's breasts, spectacularly vast and ominously overfilled before Kelli had fed her so much as a drop, ballooned outwards at a breathtaking pace under my wife's unwavering eye. Her boobs grew heavier at a punishing rate; where before they had barely touched the floor, in less than a moment they weighed ponderously upon the cold tiles below. Mara winced as their backbreaking bulk mashed her plump, erect nipples against the hard floor. As more fat surged into her bust, her breasts shuddered unevenly, skin squeaking against the floor as their utmost reaches were forced out further and further out before her and to her sides as they jostled with each other for dwindling space.

Mara's cheeks bulged out as she struggled to swallow as fast as my wife was pouring it into her, though as I looked closer, I realized that her face was growing rounder too as those onerous pounds coursed into the rest of her body. Her upper arms were flooded with fat until they billowed down past her elbows, rising like marshmallows in a microwave, soft, and enticingly wobbly as she clutched desperately at her teeming bosom. Mara's already-opulent figure billowed with excess, the rolls of fat along her sides bulging and spilling over each other as they grew, her ever more immense belly rising steadily beneath her mammoth bust. Behind, her ass had to be more than twice the size of Kelli's now, the two massive, overstuffed hemispheres of her rump at least seven feet wide, impressively round for how tantalizingly they jiggled with abundance.

“So, starting to feel a little too full?” Kelli jeered, readying another brimming gallon of cream as Mara nodded her head meekly, “Good. Have you ever really been at another woman's mercy while she filled you up, Mara? Oh, I don't mean like when you let Chrissie tie you up and stuff your face with a few cakes; I mean real pathetic helplessness, the, 'Does she know how this feels? Is she going to stop before I explode?' feeling?”

Kelli waited; open jug resting on the lip of the funnel as Mara submissively shook her head, her overgorged breasts pressing with gentle forcefulness against her plump neck, gazing up at Kelli with a look of abject remorse. She was so enormous now that Kelli's own massive pair hung down upon Mara's bosom whenever my wife leaned in to glut her with yet more, rich rivulets of milk leaking from her maternal melons and dripping down the rondure of Mara's straining bust.

“Well good, then, because before we're done here you're going to find out just how far I'm willing to stuff these bloated udders of yours, and since you have been such a fat, naughty whore with my husband, I plan to keep feeding you until my curiosity is perfectly satisfied” my wife said, bending down far enough to rake her nails against the smooth skin of Mara's breast, five livid pink marks quickly springing into existence, bright against the quivering sphere that bore them, as Mara whimpered in pain, “And speaking of husbands, how are you coming along, my love?”

“Ah, any time you think she's had enough,” I said, feeling oddly intimidated, “I think I'm ready to finish the job.”

“Mmm, aren't you though,” Kelli smiled, licking her lips as she looked approving upon me, “Why didn't you tell me they were already swollen to the size of basketballs?”

“Well, you just seemed to be having such a good time, I hated to interrupt, “I said, reaching down and trying to support the mounting weight of my growing glands, “And, um, watching you play with her like that is really turning me on.”

“Oh, I never knew you went for that kind of thing,” Kelli said with muted surprise, grasping my throbbing member, her plump hand far too small to reach all the way around its shaft, “So you mean if I slap this fat slut around a little bit more, I'll get to watch your balls blow up with gallons of hot, thick cum?”

“Ooh, y-yes,” I stammered, shivering as she squeezed me tighter, “Yeah, make her scream and I'll come all you want.”

“Oh, Mara, I do feel sorry for you,” Kelli said, slowly pacing around her captive like a tigress, “Here I was ready to just feed you cream until your tits were too fat for you to stand and then let my hubby here fuck you senseless, but it sounds like if you want him to perform at his best- and believe me- it'll be worth every last stretchmark- it might cost you a few bruises to really get his juices flowing. Here, let me help you catch your breath.”

As Kelli plucked the funnel from Mara's mouth, the kneeling woman somehow had the sense to keep silent. My wife circled around behind her, bent low on her own lusciously ample haunches, hauled back and gave her a slap on the ass so hard it sounded like a clap of thunder.

“Mmnph!” Mara sighed, teeth gritted, the entire lower half of her body quaking in response, an angry red palm-print blossoming at the impact site.

“Come on,” Kelli teased, shaking out her hand from a strike that had left her own palm stinging, “Don't tell me that an easy woman with an obscenely overfed ass like this doesn't enjoy a little slap or two to get her in the mood sometimes.”

“Oof- fuck, just because most of this stuff is turning my tits into a couple of zeppelins doesn't mean the rest isn't fattening me up six ways from Sunday,” Mara whined, “It would be bad enough if it was just my rear blowing up like a balloon, but my heels are jabbing into it so hard I feel like I'm about to pop!”

“Mmm, not a very sensible choice of footwear for a girl of your dimensions in this line of work,” Kelli taunted, grabbing a handful of Mara's plush derriere and giving it a wicked squeeze, “And by your line of work, I do of course mean your job as a brazen, cock-hungry nympho, so gorged to bursting with her own pastries that all she can do about it is bitch when another woman decides to give her a taste of her own medicine. Oh, it's going to be a treat watching you try to stagger across the kitchen in them once I've finished fattening you up!”

Kelli swung back and gave Mara another furious slap on the ass, sounding like an overfilled water balloon being hit almost hard enough to burst it, her tantalizingly overfilled figure quivering with immeasurable vulnerability as another weak cry escaped her lips.

The sight of my wife abusing Mara was almost more than I could bear; I swear I could hear my balls churning as they filled up, making standing more and more of a challenge as they ripened to the size of pumpkins, hot and tight against my legs. Kelli glanced over, licked her lips as she stared at me, then smiled, stood up, and sauntered over to where my clothes lay in a heap.

“Oh, but those tits, those huge, distended hangers of yours- I bet they're already so sore that even a little pinch from me would be absolute torture, wouldn't it?” she asked, leering at Mara cruelly as she picked up my belt, wrapped its ends around her chubby wrists and pulled it taut across the upper reaches of her own expansive bosom, “They're just so pale, so perfect, so invitingly immense- Don't go looking at me like that, you obese floozy- I'm not going to use the buckle end- I'm not a complete monster, you know. Still, I think all that meat could do with a little tenderizing before I pour the last few gallons of cream into your belly.”

With the belt mostly wrapped around her left hand, Kelli snapped it sharply at Mara's breasts. Though she was clearly holding back the sound of tanned leather against supple skin rang out sharp and clear- Mara's right breast shuddered as she flinched and suppressed a cry of pain.

“There we go, don't act like you've never been in this position before and delighted in every second of it,” my wife needled Mara, cracking the belt against the air playfully as she spoke, “I bet it doesn't take all that much for Chrissie and your other girls to get you down on your knees. What did they do to make it a little more interesting, a little less safe? I saw a bag of clothespins on the way in, I can just imagine pinching three or four on each of those fat pink nipples, tighter and tighter until they start turning purple. Or maybe something a bit more fitting for a bakeress too in love with the taste of her own cooking- you, on your knees with your tits squeezed between the counter and wall as a couple of your plumped-up acolytes fed you more and more, fuller and fuller until the pressure on your huge, wobbling melons was just too much for you to bear. It's alright- I know you're still deciding- maybe a few more blows and you'll develop a taste for this.”

Mara screwed her eyes shut tightly as Kelli lashed at her other breast, harder this time, more confidently, again the sound of smooth leather against wet skin clapped through the bakery like thunder. Mara jerked like she'd been shot, a long red mark and inch and a half wide glowing against the overstretched alabaster skin of her breast, right across the tender and tightly-drawn surface of her areola as the nipple at its center doubled in size.

“Ah, so a little pain does turn you on,” Kelli gloated, her hand shaking as if she could barely hold herself back from giving Mara another stroke with the belt already slinging it back for the next blow, “Well, it's your lucky day then, because by the time I'm done with you you're going to be positively delirious with pleasure. Now just you stay there on your knees my overstuffed tart; I'd hate to draw blood while I'm- Fuck!”

My wife yelped in pain as her swing missed wildly and she caught herself hard on the side of her bloated left breast, the belt arcing across its round and yielding hemisphere and leaving a bruise that only got brighter and more painful looking as it reached the belt's furthest extent. The pain of it almost knocked her to her knees; she stifled as sob as she tried to cradle the weight of her aching breast. Mara laughed ruefully.

“Oh, you're such a big, bold dominatrix when you've got the whip hand, but one stroke is all it takes to leave you a quivering mess,” Mara teased, “When you've been working as long as I have, you learn to take your licks with a little more spirit, so how about you hand me that belt, stay on your knees, and since your hubby gets off on the sight of one fat girl flogging another, the two of us could give him a real show.”

“You bitch! I should beat you to a fucking pulp!” Kelli bellowed as she staggered to her feet, tears and sheer hatred burning in her eyes, “But I've got a better idea. Here hon, bring me the rest of the cream.”

“What, all of it?” I asked, glancing doubtfully at the counter still loaded with about ten gallon jugs of the stuff, then looking down at my debilitatingly swollen balls.

“Yes, all of it,” Kelli said, catching my apprehension and laughing, “Oh, are you finally too fucking huge to walk? Oh Mara, you are in for a treat once I'm finished with you. Here hon, you just wait there; I'll waddle on over and get the rest of the cream- if seeing this much has done that to you, you'll be ready to blow by the time I've had my fun with our gracious hostess here.”

“Nnghh, all of it?” Mara groaned as Kelli sauntered back, two jugs clutched tightly in each of her plump hands, “Haven't you humiliated me enough?”

“Mmm, not nearly,” my wife sighed, plunking down the cream jugs on a table near where Mara knelt and going back for another several gallons, “Ahh, your breasts were already so swollen and bloated before I let myself get a little rough with you, already brimming with fat, painfully overfilled. But now those huge, luscious, dangerously overfilled tits of yours are so awfully sore and bruised thanks to me, so let's see how well you hold up while I pour a few more gallons into them. How much fatter do you think your obscenely overgrown melons will gain by the time I'm done- another hundred pounds in each tit, two hundred? Oh, I can't wait to hear you begging for mercy over the sound of your tits creaking and stretching once they're full enough to burst- but enough talking, I bet my husband will just love watching me glut you with cream until you're too massive to do more than sit there on your knees and quiver while I force-feed you every last drop.”

Mara already looked ready to beg for mercy as Kelli roughly shoved the large funnel past her plump lips. She looked like she would have said anything, done anything if it meant release from my wife's savage overfeeding. Mara glanced at me- she knew just as well as I did that neither of us were in control here. Even if I had wanted to stop Kelli for filling her with more, my balls were swollen to the size of beachballs, hanging halfway past my knees, painfully heavy, painfully full, my cock at least eighteen inches long and throbbing for relief.

“Here you go, drink up,” Kelli taunted her as she poured an entire jug of cream down the funnel and into Mara's fearfully overfilled figure. Her breasts billowed anew as the stuff flowed into her body. Her bosom, helplessly distended already, spilled out wider than she was tall, and while her pendulous jugs had before bent her forwards as gravity pulled them to the floor, Mara was now obliged to sit up straighter, arching her back farther as they grew more massive with every swallow. Kelli threw aside the first jug and seized another, opening it and pouring it into the funnel before the last gallon had finished draining into Mara's fat-flooded form. Mara groaned, clasping weakly at her breasts, as stretchmarks blossomed across the rondure of her mammoth mammaries- by now each one had to have held at least a quarter ton of quiversome feminine flesh.

“Ah, there we go, I remember when I earned my stretchmarks under your servant's gentle care,” Kelli teased, forcing the funnel down Mara's throat until she gagged, “I can still close my eyes and feel my breasts throbbing, pulsating like they were about to explode. Oh, but I can see the fear in your eyes that there's not enough cream left to really push you to your limits- don't worry, if we run out and you still look so miserably undernourished, my own breasts are so full of milk they're leaking all over your floor- can't you feel it, still hot from my own body and slippery against your tight, tight skin?”

Mara looked on, paralyzed by terror as she tried to figure out of Kelli was serious, while my wife poured gallon after gallon of cream into her staggeringly swollen body. Her arms were so awfully glutted with fat that a four hundred pound woman's thighs would be slender in comparison to them, thick and wobbling as they grew increasingly overladen. Behind her, Mara's ass jiggled as her body struggled to contain the sea of fat already crammed within her, her rump rising as the tide within her grew. Her hips were already at least two feet wider than any door out of the bakery- I imagined her trapped here for the next couple weeks until the cream's effects began to subside, and wondered if Chrissie would be able to resist taking advantage of having her boss in such an irresistibly compromising position. After watching what Kelli had already done to Mara, I almost felt sorry for leaving her to a fate of further feeding and exploitation, but my sympathy was soon replaced by thoughts of how I could get away with hiding a camera somewhere here before we left so I'd be able to watch the whole ordeal later on from the comfort of Kelli's and my bedroom.

The rolls of fat along Mara's back were blossoming into a state of obscene opulence, thick and deep and wobbling like jelly, the lowest of them spilling out across the shelf of Mara's magnificently plumped-up behind, while beneath her colossal bust, her belly grew bigger and bigger and bigger, expanding out between her parted knees, beyond them, and pouring over her scandalously glutted thighs, their soft skin inviting as their sleekness finally began to give way to gentle ripples of cellulite. Mara's belly was at least five feet across already, squeezed uncomfortably between the weight of her massive bosom and the bakery floor, slick from the large and growing puddle of my wife's breast milk, as it leaked from Kelli's udders as she bent over Mara, flowing in hot, thick rivulets down the immensity of Mara's bust, and then along the weight-distorted curve of her cream-filled belly.

Mara looked like she was at her absolute limit; her body shivered like she was in shock, trembling with overfullness as Kelli inexorably filled her with yet more. She moaned weakly around the funnel in her mouth, her chubby fingers weakly exploring the lavish excess of her expanding figure.

“Mmm, don't worry, only a few gallons to go, and then maybe I'll give you a moment to breathe. Oh, but look at how desperately delicate your tits are looking now that we've pumped them up with so much fat! You know, it's a shame you never got your nipples pierced, I would have loved to have chained them together before I started filling you and had the pleasure of watching them pull each other tighter and tighter while your melons blew in front of me,” Kelli teased, laughing at Mara's muffled murmurings of despair, “Oh don't worry, it'll all be over before you know it, and then the real fun can begin.”

Kelli poured another gallon down Mara's throat and into her distended breasts. Each one was over four feet across now, rising so high that they pressed against Mara's second chin, threatening to smother her the moment she stopped looking up at her curvaceous captor. Beneath their milky-white skin, I could see blue veins faintly pulsing as her body fought to sustain the bulk of such dangerously excessive endowments, the southern hemispheres of her mammoth breasts developing an ever more distressing array of stretchmarks, lurid white stria exploding across the taut flesh of her areolae, their tender skin overcome by the mounting strain.

“Ooh, those poor boobies of yours are so distended it must be positively excruciating, “Kelli said with feigned sympathy as she lifted the penultimate jug to the funnel's lip, “Lucky for you there's only a little bit more to go, barely enough to pad out those unbearably obese udders of yours with another twenty or thirty pounds each. I hope you're not quite at your limit, for your sake, well, and for my husband's, you don't need me to tell you he's ever so excited at the chance to finally have you make good on your indecent proposition from earlier.”

Mara shuddered, her lush figure inflated with fat far beyond any measure of safety, as Kelli poured more cream into her mouth, more fat into her already-overburdened body. Her breasts, already two vast, forswollen globes each more than four and a half feet across, trembled nakedly as they were forced to accept still more, while all the rest of her quivered in helpless sympathy, her thighs, her belly, her vast and jigglesome ass, even Mara's increasingly round face and debilitatingly plumped-up arms, seemed to teeter on the brink of disaster.

Larger and larger Mara's breasts were compelled to grow, creaking like water balloons filled with a dozen times more than they could safely hold. Their skin became paler as they were compelled to contain more and more fat, her areolae puffing out distressingly from the curves of her breasts as their tenderness left them all the more vulnerable to overfilling. Mara whimpered feebly, overcome by the unremitting opulence of her own body.

My wife was upending the last jug, making sure not a drop went to waste. There were tears in Mara's eyes as she sobbed, when suddenly the air was pierced by a sound like the crack of a whip as Mara gave a start and a stifled shriek as if she'd just been lightning-struck, her hips instantly spilling out a few inches wider.

“Are you serious?” Kelli asked intently, withdrawing the funnel from Mara's mouth and discarding it, “Was that really your panties splitting after all of this? What perfect timing.”

“Oh- yes-,” Mara sighed anxiously, “But how can you even care about that when you've made me so oppressively massive I feel like I'm just one deep breath away from bursting?”

“Ah, hearing you say that just means I've done my job well,” Kelli said warmly,” I remember just that sensation right here in this very bakery- the panic, the helplessness, and unless I'm very much mistaken, the lust. Now get up.”

“What? No, sex is the last thing on my mind right now,” Mara protested, her voice husky from the strain of force-feeding, “Don't tell me you expect me to-”

“Listen, you fat, sadistic, man-stealing slut, you are going to get up on those cellulite-stuffed legs and you are going to slap those bloated knockers down on the counter of there, and then my husband is going to fuck you until you're too sore and too overfilled to twitch a muscle,” Kelli said flatly, “And if you give me one more word about why you can't, I am going to take these huge, milky tits of mine, jam them right in that sweet lying mouth of yours, and not let you come up for air until you've sucked me dry, understand?”

Mara glanced up at my wife's dripping, lush and too long-neglected bosom and nodded submissively. Then with an effort that looked like it taxed every muscle of her body to the utmost, Mara labored to stand up.

The very effort of it set her fat-flooded figure aquiver as she tried to heave her vast feminine bulk from the floor. Before Mara had lifted herself so much as an inch, she was already out of breath, her titanic breasts heaving in time with her chest. Her face, her neck, the upper reaches of her bosom flushed pink as she somehow managed to get her balance and miraculously found the strength to rise to her feet. Her thick haunches tightened, her legs strained as she stood up, Kelli's milk dripping from the smooth skin of her belly and breasts as she dragged them from the floor. As Mara struggled to her feet, her body protested being forced to support her own weight; her breasts creaked distressingly, Mara balking for a moment as their tender undersides were compelled to bear hundreds of pounds of wobbling flesh; she nearly lost her balance as she instinctively grabbed at her chest, at the shock of such ponderous weight suspended from her body.

At last, she gained her feet, the straps of her high heels looking painfully tight wrapped around feet far plumper than they had been an hour before. Mara looked as tense as if she was balancing on a wire over the Grand Canyon; the floor all around her was slick with my wife's breastmilk and she was clearly terrified of what a fall might mean in her seductively delicate condition. Every tendon in her body must have been tight as a bowstring under all that quiversome fat, her jaw clenched in discomfort as I watched the lowest curve of her breasts crept several inches lower as they sagged beneath their punishing weight.

“Mmm, so you're not too fat to stand yet after all, you cock-hungry slut,” Kelli observed with terse approval, stroking her own bosom absent-mindedly as milk leaked more steadily from her own plump peaks, “Now come on, hurry up and haul those overfed jugs over to the counter; just watching you break out with more stretchmarks is making my tits hurt. Just watch your step, I seem to have gone and gotten the floor all slippery in here, and I don't need to remind you that a girl your size really ought to invest in a more practical pair of shoes ifs he doesn't want to take a nasty tumble one of these days”

Still cowed into silence by Kelli's threats, Mara meekly, with agonizing care, made her way to the counter. She made quite a sight, far too large to see the floor in front of her, yet taking each step as anxiously as if she were in the midst of a minefield. Her legs were trembling before her fifth step; from the way she closed her eyes every time her hell struck the ground, I could tell that her knees, now made to bear more than twice the burden to which they were accustomed, were hurting her, and I confess the spectacle of her distress at my wife's hands only made me more turned on, my balls achingly overfull as I watched Mara pick her way to the counter, her immense ass jiggling as if it had been injected with jelly until it was fit to burst, her breathtakingly well-filled thighs almost hidden beneath its bulk as she tottered along.

At last Mara reached her destination, and with a twist that must have sprained every sinew in her lower back, heaved her tortured bosom up onto it, biting her lip as her breasts struck the hard counter-top with a slap, fighting to catch her breath as she stood there, her massive bust, now supported-rising as high as the top of her head, her indulgent belly pressed hard against the edge of the counter, and her wide-spreading hips, billowing rump and gently-dimpled legs sticking out behind her at an awkward but sensual angle, thanks to the continued support of her high heels, which, I noticed, had left two long, angry red marks where they had pressed for too long against the ballooning burden of her ass.

“Well, I would have liked to see you move a little faster, you lazy thing,” Kelli said, sauntering up to Mara and giving her a corrective smack on her rear, “But I think this will do. Are you quite comfortable?”

“Ohh, fuck, my boobs are so sore they feel like they're about to explode, and standing in these heels is murder,” Mara sighed, “Please, you've made your made, had your revenge for me trying to fuck your husband; come on- I'm way too big for sex right now- just let me lay down, I promise, next time you two come through this way you can come by the bakery and use me however you want. I'll do anything you tell me to, I'll let you both act out any fantasy you can think of doing to a poor, dangerously buxom failed temptress, but right now it's just all too much.”

“Ah, now that's an awfully tempting offer, but I can tell you're lying,” Kelli said shrewdly, running one hand along Mara's opulent hip, “You're so horny you're about to lose your mind. Your heart is racing, and not just because it had to drag a ton of whore off her knees. I can smell the desire on you right now- you're probably so wet that if I let you sit down right now you'd slide right of the chair. And besides, I don't think my hubby here can wait much longer.”

Kelli sashayed over to me, rolling her broad hips sensually, staring hungrily at my rock-hard cock.

“Mmm, I had no idea the sight of me dominating another woman would have this effect on you,” she purred, stroking my throbbing member, her fingers barely reaching halfway around its girth, “I almost feel bad for pushing you this far; your poor balls look like they're about to pop, I bet they've got every bit as much cream roiling inside of them as I've poured down our little serving wench's throat. Oh, I've kept you waiting far too long while I had my fun with her, but now it's your turn; get over there and give her what she was begging you for before I came in.”

I could barely walk faster than Mara had as I dragged my distended glands across the slick floor, trying desperately not to kick them or do anything that might put them under more strain than they already were.

“Wait, please!” Mara cried as she looked back over one plump shoulder as I approached, “Wouldn't you rather fuck my tits? They're so full and heavy right now, so wet and slippery you could bury that huge dick between them, and get to see them drenched with your cream once I made you come!”

The look on my face must have told her I was tempted, but not enough to accept her offer.

“So- ah- you like really huge girls right? I mean, the sight of little old me here pumped so full of fat I'm ready to split my seams has you all turned on, but I'm just here right now,” Mara stammered, casting about wildly, “How about your wife? She's too big to fight you off either, and I've got enough sweets here in the Muffin Top to fatten up a dozen girls to double this size. Knock her off her feet, tie her to a kitchen chair and I'll help you stuff her until she's even more ravishingly overfed than me, and then you'll be able to fuck a woman so obscenely huge she can barely get out of bed any time you want- I'll even rent for a flatbed truck for you to get her home if you need it! I know, you're worried that she'd be super mad if you did something like that to her, especially because I talked you into it, but I promise, a week of living like that, tops, with you giving it to her morning, noon and night, and she'll be begging you to feed her more.”

I glanced askance at Kelli, who rather than being incensed actually looked intrigued in spite of herself.

“I tell you what, love,” Kelli said playfully, “I'm not sure she's serious about that. So you go ahead and fuck her brains out and then if she's still willing to help you fatten me up until my tits are even more bloated than hers, well, if you want to take her up on the offer don't think I'll fight back all that much against the two of you. Go on, lover; give it to her good and hard.”

I was right behind Mara now. Her hips seemed somehow even more breathtakingly broad and fertile than before, her ass even more staggeringly immense as I grabbed her by the hips and pressed her quavering cheeks against me, my engorged shaft hard against the endless sea of her yielding flesh. My balls, agonizingly full, lay heavy against her indulgently thick calves, the warmth of her wobbling thighs brushing their overstretched skin as Mara cocked her hips to make things easier.

“Mmm, that's it,” I said quietly, leaning forward over the seductive bulk of her behind, the tender rolls of her back soft against my chest as I reached out and kneaded her tantalizingly overfilled breasts from behind, “This is what you wanted, isn't it; your tits fattened up to bursting and me stretching you from inside in a way no woman can? I know I'm bigger than you were expecting; spread your legs a little farther so I can come inside.”

“Ooh- ouch- I'm trying,” Mara pleaded, reluctantly moving her heels a little farther apart as they threatened to slip out from under her, “I'm just- you've made me so desperately glutted with fat- I'm just too thick- if I go any farther I'm going to slip and-”

“Oh, but you want it, don't you; every last inch of me?” I insisted, grabbing an overflowing handful of her sumptuous rear and sliding in between her thighs as she rocked her hips in response, “Kelli was right, you're just so wet; I bet if I walked away right now you'd beg for me to fuck you.”

“No, please- don't!” Mara insisted weakly, turning her face aside to shun my wife's gaze, “You're right- I need your cock; I need it inside of me! I need to feel myself tightening around you, to feel you stretching my softness just as roughly as you've stretched my breasts. Take me, own me, fuck- Ahhhh!”

Mara shrieked as I entered her, deep as her luscious body would permit, her tremendous ass slapping hard against my body, her swollen femininity straining to take me in. I could feel her womanhood shuddering, tightening around me as I stretched her inmost depths to their limits; her back went straight as I impaled her, desperate to ease my entry. Inside, she was as hot and wet as a tropical jungle. I plunged my hands between the rolls that spilled out over her hips and grasped her by her well-cushioned waist, pulling myself deeper into her.

“Oh fuck- oh fuck! You're too big!” she squealed, her legs nearly bucking beneath her, “Oh, please- I can't handle this much- you're about to split me in two!”

“Mmm, you're such a bad liar,” I sighed as I slid a few inches out and then hammered back into her depths, as she spasming helplessly, “You're so ready that you're already about to come.”

“You poor, shameless, overstuffed slut, is it too much now that you're finally getting what you wanted?” Kelli mocked, leaning in and backhanding one of Mara's breasts so hard I could feel her clutch at me in response, “Go ahead, go ahead and come. You've kept my husband waiting so very long already, and there's nothing that brings him quite like making a far girl scream with pleasure.”

“Oh- yes, Yes, YES!” Mara cried, overcome by the sensations flooding her brimming body, nerves drawn tight as drum singing with ecstasy as she rolled her fulsome ass against me, urging me deeper, her womanhood squeezing me as she came, “Please, it's more than I can take- No! Give it to me harder- make me come more!”

Her swollen cheeks slapped rhythmically against me as I speared her, I had already lost count of how many times Mara had climaxed, her voice giving way to a wordless cry of crushing rapture. Kelli wasn't even taunting her any more, just standing there, looking at her with the same amusement as if she were watching some rival too drunk to stand up straight at a party. The need for release was building within me; my balls were ready to explode, swelling to even more elephantine proportions. Mara was like a nymph in heat; her entire body given over to her desires, all her strength, all her determination, all her will to control were washed away by her all-consuming need for me.

I came. I swear I could hear it, the like a volcano erupting deep inside her submissive body. She wailed, the unbearable fullness inside her suddenly doubled; her opulently-padded arms, which had kept her distended bosom from bearing the full weight of her body, trembled weakly. I bent forward, reaching around the least-saturated reaches of her middle, and pressed my palms against the sides of her beguilingly bloated belly. I felt her expanding, as I filled her vastly more efficiently than my wife, for all her boasting, ever could.

Mara twitched and clenched around me; her body was ablaze with lust, though it felt like her mind was on the cusp of blacking out. With a sound like a full water balloon, her milk-slick belly rubbed against the edge of the counter. I felt ready to pass out myself; I'd never come like this before. No matter how much she pushed me to give her everything I had, I always felt like I needed to hold back with Kelli, after our first few times together left her middle so critically distended she was afraid to even move for several days, but now, Kelli was standing right there, urging me on, all but commanding me to pump every ounce in my brimming balls into her magnificently receptive form.

“Is this still what you wanted, bitch?” Kelli demanded, coming in so close that her own milk-sodden udders mashed hard against Mara's quaking bosom, savagely grabbing a double handful of her rival's oversaturated breasts as Mara squirmed, “You thought you were full already? That these massive fucking, bloated tits that you can barely drag off the floor would be the biggest thing you had to endure tonight? No- even bigger than my hubby's huge cock- you- that soft, heavy belly of yours, fattened to bursting with all those years of thoughtless gluttony- by the time I'm through with you, you're little Chrissie will have to knock a wall down to get you out of here tomorrow, assuming you can handle what's coming for you.”

Haughtily, Kelli sauntered around the counter and came up behind me. I felt the warmth radiating from her body, milk leaking from her breasts and spattering against my back. A moment later, her own sumptuous belly was pressed against my butt, the steaming hot skin of her breasts heavy against my back as she gently writhed against me.

“Mmm, come on baby, I can't tell you how horny it makes me watching you pump this corn-fed slut up like a balloon,” she murmured to me over the sound of Mara's belly stretching as it held fully ten gallons, and no respite in sight, “Stay hard for me, keep fucking her. The way you make her moan, the way her belly is already creaking- once we're back home, I want you to do the same to me. How about a deal? How ever big you can make Mara here, I promise I'll let you stuff me with enough sweets from this bakery until I'm every bit as bloated and lust-soaked as her. I've been thinking about her offer too; if you finish and she's in any state to do more than lay here and call your name, she can help you feed me, if you can promise me you'll be up for another round.”

My wife's offer made me even harder; I was gushing into Mara so violently that if I hadn't had my arms wrapped tight around her waist the pressure would have shot me out of her. I held on, bent over her back as Kelli's warm, inviting form pressed against me. Mara's hair had somehow remained up after all this abuse, two chopsticks still holding her raven-dark tresses in place. I was so close I could smell her hair, the sweetness of sugar and flour and the warmth of the oven clinging to it, mingled with sweat and desire.

Mara gave a cry of pain, I'd enlarged her to the point where the counter was digging sharply into her belly, which hung lower than her knees and was swiftly rounding out as if she'd swallowed a weather balloon. I tried to heave her backwards; she yelped in surprise and her arms gave way, burying her face in the bathykolpian depths of her cleavage, her voice muffled, as her knees trembled and she accommodatingly stumbled back a step, one of her heels coming alarmingly close to me. With more space to grow, Mara's belly surged out more than four and a half feet in front of her body, and every inch as broad too. The strain on her back had to be unbearable, but she still had at least a foot to go before the floor could lend her any support.

“Oh, just look what you're doing to her; she might as well be straddling a fire hydrant,” Kelli goaded, reaching down and caressing my swollen balls from behind, “And you're still so full, you stallion- I just know you've got enough to make her belly hang to the floor- then again, surprise me; keep filling her until it's so overfilled that it pushes her tits into her face even when she's standing and I'll really be impressed.”

“Ahh- please- too much-” Mara protested faintly, grasping at her belly, her fingers splaying out across its obscene and dilating girth, “So- so heavy- too tight- I can't- I'm gonna-”

Her plea was interrupted by a moan as she shuddered in resignation, and a moment later a deep creaking from her belly like the sound a heavy rope makes when it's ready to split. Mara's belly yielded to the accumulating pressure inside, bulging out on every side by several inches. Though not nearly as wide-spreading as her luscious hips, I could see it violently balloon out to either side of her body; in the blink of an eye its opulent lowest curve hung six inches nearer to the floor. My stamina was flagging, but I was far from spent; it still felt like every spurt sent half a gallon more surging into her overburdened body.

“Mmm, what a wicked slut she has to be to still be cumming after all this,” Kelli teased, leaning in until I could feel the heat of her swollen breasts lapping at my neck, my back slick with her milk, “Just look how much she enjoys being abused like this; I bet she'd love it if you hauled back and spanked that overstuffed ass of hers until it was all red and sore. Come on; when you're done I want to see your palm-print all over her.”

I felt a twinge of doubt, even as I railed away at Mara's defenseless body. I was already giving her far more than she was able to handle; how could I pile one more burden on her overladen figure? Then again, how could I refuse my wife? There was something about having her take charge like this, commanding Mara into such utter submission, ordering me to fuck this poor woman, demanding that I pump her full of cum until she was fit to burst- she was impossible to resist- I let go of Mara's voluminous hips with one hand, swung back, and delivered a forceful slap to her rhythmically rolling rump.

With a muffled cry, Mara jerked like she'd been shocked. She tightened around me- I came harder. I smacked her again- she bucked and trembled, her belly, so sorely overfilled, groaning as her shuddering response banged it against the counter, while my every thrust glutted her with more weight, its straining bulk growing tighter and tighter with every pulse.

“Oh, I think she likes it,” Kelli prodded, working her arms beneath her enormous bosom and running her nails roughly down my back, “Come on, finish what I started- don't stop until her overfed ass is so tender she won't be able to sit for a week- harder!”

Switching hands, I drew back and gave her another slap, and then another, the echo of my hand against her yielding flesh keeping time with my erupting inside her. Stifled by her own cleavage, Mara sobbed wordlessly, her belly billowing as if she was a human parade balloon, wider and wider, heavy and tight against her soft thighs, against the blossoming rolls that rested on her lush hips.

I knew I couldn't keep this up much longer; even with my wife's compelling enticements, I was mostly spent, my balls no longer in danger from Mara's sharp heels. She was staggeringly vast already, her belly, breathtaking before I even touched her, now distended with at least a hundred gallons of my seed, its then-soft skin now tight as a drum. I continued her spanking; as Kelli insisted, livid red reflections of my palm now covered Mara's sumptuous behind.

“Ohh, please- you have to stop,” Mara pleaded, struggling to lift her face out of her cleavage as she feebly tried to brace her hands against the counter for support, “I'm too huge- I'm about to pop, stop spanking me while you blow me up like a balloon!”

“But Mara, I thought you liked it a little rough?” Kelli teased, reaching around me to give Mara's tender rump a playful swat, “Don't tell me that a little fun like this is too much for you?”

“Nggh- don't listen to her; can't you see how dangerously overfilled you've gone and made me?” Mara pleaded, burying her cheek in one chubby shoulder as she tried to look back at me imploringly, “Making me even fatter than I already was, blowing up my tits until I'm afraid to touch them- alright, I'm not too proud to admit it's been fun to let someone else take my reins for a while, but now look at my belly- I swear, every time you thrust into me I expect to feel myself explode! How many guys can say they've filled a girl with so much cum that they had to pull out to keep her from bursting? You can finish up on my tits, my back, my face- I'll lap it up and rub all over me, whatever you want to see, but please, you have to stop before-”

There was a sound like taut rubber against a rain-spattered window as Mara's straining belly reached the floor, her tight skin protesting as it slid against the milk-slickened tiles. She shivered in response, though whether it was relief at finally having some small portion of her crushing burden supported by something other than her own body, or fright that I had filled her to such a provocative state of repletion- I wasn't sure, though despite her pleas for me to stop, her heavy hips still rolled against my body as I pumped her fuller; if she was terrified of how spectacularly overladen she was becoming, her well-primed desires seemed all too willing to force her to accept as much as I could give her.

“Ah, please- this is serious! I'm too full- too heavy- mnhh! - too tight!” Mara sobbed hopelessly, her plump shoulders heaving, her lush thighs pressing more insistently against my legs as the underside of her billowing belly pressed against them irresistibly, “And it just feels so- so incredible! Please- you're still making me cum so hard- I can barely think straight- If I wasn't so heavy- if having you inside me was so- exhilarating- I'd have pulled away already! Oh fuck- it's too late- I'm about to- I'm gonna- Ohhhhh-”

Mara screamed as I shot my last into her. Her belly, filled obscenely beyond any hope of resisting more, billowed out another several inches, groaning like a wood floor under a Sherman tank. I could all but hear the stretchmarks racing across her impossibly swollen belly, and as I clutched at her fulsome waist in relief, finally spent, she gave one last shudder as all the tension fled her sumptuous figure and she collapsed against the counter, her vast bosom resting on top of it, the rest of her boundless weight supported by her surfeited belly, her voluptuous legs draped against its curve; it made quiet but distressing sounds of protest as was obliged to bear her weight. Heat rising in waves from her back, Mara's breathing gradually grew less labored and more regular. As I withdrew my slackened member from her, she gave a sigh of satisfaction; I was relieved to find that my endowment was once again modest enough for my generously tailored pants to conceal.

“Well, that's a lesson she's not going to forget any time soon,” Kelli smirked, gliding contentedly around Mara, whose belly was at least six feet across, before hefting one of her milk-laden breasts suggestively “Can I please abuse her around a little more, just to drive the point home? I bet she isn't quite full yet, and my tits are aching to be drained.”

“Come on, give her a break; I think you've heaped enough abuse on her big ass already today,” I insisted, giving Mara's huge, jigglesome rear an affectionate pat that made her flinch, “I know she tried to seduce me and make me lie to you, but she's just a big girl with big- appetites who hasn't been getting enough attention lately. I mean, look how stupidly horny you get if I you have to go more than a couple days without me and you trying to break the bedsprings; what do you think you'd do if you had to go months and months with only other girls to attend to your needs?”

“Okay, even though she's a shameless cock-hungry, man-stealing slut, I guess we've had enough fun with her,” Kelli admitted, letting her breast drop with a smack that sent a thick jet of milk spraying right across Mara's face and chest, before turning to gather up her clothes, “I'm still taking all the leftovers she told you she was going to warm up for us before she decided to play Jezebel with you.”

“Ah, is it- is it over?” Mara whispered dreamily, her hands dazedly exploring the vast globe of her belly, “Ohh, is all of this me? I just feel so- so heavy- I'm so sore all over I think I'd explode if I even tried to stand up right now. It feels so- so satisfying.”

“See, I told you she could still hold some more,” my wife said, turning on her heel as if she was going to march over and nurse Mara until she was begging for mercy again before I stopped her with a pointed glance, “Well, okay, but I think I saw a few bottles of that cream stuff in the cooler on my way in, and we're taking all of those too.”

“Mnghh, what are you going to do now?” Mara asked me, her head turned sharply to the right to avoid smothering herself in the depths of her overstuffed bosom, as I pulled up my trousers.

“Well, we're going to get out of here before my better half decides her vengeance won't be complete until she's forced you to swallow a good twenty gallons of breastmilk,” I said, “and even though you tried to seduce me, I'm going to leave some money for the desserts by the cash register here.”

“That's right,” Kelli shouted, having struggled mostly into her own clothes and trying to carry at least ten bags full of sweets clutched in her plump hands, “Pay her like the whore she is!”

“Hang on, I'm almost finished here- wait, don't go outside yet, your blouse isn't even buttoned up; you're going to get us arrested,” I called back before turning to the addled and satisfied boulangere, “You want us to call Chrissie before we go?”

“Good heavens, no; you must want to hear about me exploding on the six 'o clock news,” Mara averred, “If she finds me in this condition she won't be satisfied until she's punished me for trying to steal another woman's man and had her fill of pleasure on top of that. I just- I think I'll just stay here and not move for a while, at least until my belly stops creaking like this.”

“Come on lover, help me into the van,” Kelli called from the door, “I just texted Vicky and told her we're going to spend the night here in town instead of driving all night. We're going to find a hotel with king-sized beds and sound-proof walls, and you're going to feed me every last bite of this haul. I hope you're not too tired for a repeat performance!”

“Coming,” I shouted back, before turning one last time to our dismayingly buxom hostess, “Well, Mara, next time we're passing through town, should I call and ask if your desserts are available?”

“Oh, I'm a glutton for more than punishment,” she sighed, a twinkle in her eye as she looked me up and down, “but I've got a feeling that by this time next week, I'll be wishing I had a little bit more of what you can give me. If you come through alone, give me a call and I'll break out my special reserve stock so you can really give me a memorable night. Don't you dare tell her I said that though.”

“I won't breathe a word,” I smiled, before across Mara's overfilled figure and giving her a long, deep kiss, her plump, cherry-red lips slick and yielding to the touch, until I realized she was trying to reach down my pants, “But don't push your luck.”

“Are you finally done?” Kelli teased as we shut the door and rounded the corner of the Muffin Top, “I swear as long as you were taking, I thought you were going to stop and fuck her again.”

“Just saying goodbye,” I said nonchalantly as I slid open the wide door and watched admiringly as my generously-endowed wife slung at least a hundred pounds of baked goods into the van and then heaved herself up inside right after, “You can't expect me to go through that kind of thing with a woman and then just walk out without a word?”

“You are damn lucky that you decided to tell me what was really going on when she told you to text me,” Kelli chided as I climbed into the driver's seat, “I'm not sure what I would have done if I'd come back from my shopping and found you had just decided to fuck her without me knowing about it, but it wouldn't have been good.”

“Well, that's why I told you,” I argued, pulling away from the curb, the van's motor grumbling as it labored to pull us away from the curb, “Hang on, who are you calling?”

“What? Oh, just checking in with someone, don't you worry” my wife said innocently as she poked at her phone, “Oh hi, is this Chrissie? Yes, it's Kelli- I know, it's been too long! Look, I'd love to catch up with you, chew the fat and all that, but I've got to tell you, your boss is in quite a predicament right now, and I just couldn't live with myself if I didn't tell you so you could go over and lend her a hand or two-”