Consolidation (Epilog)

John Mercer slowly lumbered towards the wide reinforced chaise lounge chair next to Lou Lick. The chair groaned mightily as his 696 pounds slowly impinged upon it, during the slow, wobbly process of getting himself reclining as Lou was.

“Great day to be fat, eh John?” said Lou, grabbing a hunk of John’s nearest hip and shaking it.

“Every day is a great day to be hugely fat, Lou!” he replied, woggling some of Lou’s sagging upper arm fat.

6 years after Jenny Patussi was accepted into the polyfidelity group and well over 7 since she’d become the 4th. fatass and last name in the Mercer/Pelvig/Bloom/Patussi household(s), many things had changed for many in the group, and all of them in what had been their foursome family.

All of Jenny’s amazing cooking and baking plus spending more time with the Licks and other foodie/fatter members of the poly group led to all of them gaining. Initially it was only Jenny and John showing much fat gain, since Barb and Tara were already so far out into the ultrasize realm, their bodies didn’t seem to have more to gain. Back then John still didn’t eat anywhere near as much as the rest of them and remained more active, making his gains moderate. Jenny absolutely blew up, easily packing on at least 60 pounds each year.

What really turned their world on its head was a series of discoveries in disparate fields at Bioteronimo and elsewhere, some going back many years, synthesized into an experimental protocol for a highly off-label use.

It had been known for at least a decade that the human intestinal microbiome had a huge influence on how fat a person was or was not. Recent research for curing obesity was yielding results in terms of how to shift the biome to eliminate excess fat storage. It wasn’t long before the scientists and medically trained members of the fatlovesex community figured out how to flip things around to get the opposite result, for those who were not fat and wanted to be. This close to guaranteed fatness, but not at all where the fat would be deposited, which as usual would follow the person’s DNA pattern and hormones.

Bioteronimo’s contribution, still in the late research stages, related to cell signaling, in a manner akin to hormones, but not acting as known hormones did. It still wasn’t known with certainty whether the under-development compounds were overriding the DNA’s signaling as a form of persistent hormone, or locally altering DNA. What was known was that it was currently possible to signal certain changes and have those changes stick, then replicate as cells were born and died during their normal life cycles. Human adipose cells were some of the better-studied, in part due to their available abundance for research. They could be turned on and off reliably, with less reliability in terms of area of coverage.

About 3 1/2 years earlier (2 1/2 years after Jenny joined the poly group), Barb and Gretchen were having one of their spontaneous playful moments in the lab. They’d been getting more daring over the years, and on this day, they each shoved their hand down the other woman’s pants between the plackets of their white lab coats, executing a muff grab that would make a certain ex U.S. President proud. What they neglected to consider in their spontaneity was that the gloves that each of them were wearing were contaminated with dust of some of the “adipose On” variant of the compound.

“We’d better go wash up, huh?” Gretchen suggested.

“Go ahead. It’s so little and applied topically, I can’t imagine it’ll do anything. Besides, I quite like the tingling sensation.”

Gretchen decided she liked it too.

The following morning, the first words out of Gretchen’s mouth for Barb when they started working alone together in their lab were, “We should’ve washed up.”

“Why?”

“My entire vulva is swollen, not just where you touched. Same with my inner thighs. Don’t you have something like that? Or would you not notice?—and you know I know what you’re into and don’t mean that to be mean.”

“Mound and belly, which you grazed on your way down, are bigger. It’s not swelling, it’s fat.”

“What?!”

“Think about what we’re testing. That was A On yesterday. Go ahead and feel the consistency of your ‘swelling’. I’ll wait.”

Gretchen did, not happy with what she felt. “Holy fuck! I gotta get some A Off on there!”

“Good luck getting any. That’s not on our test matrix this week.”

“Shit!”

“Now what you could do, and what I’m going to do, is let things be and document the changes. Live with a fat mound or at least vulva and maybe thighs for a week or so until A Off is on our matrix, then repeat the process with that to revert.”

“How do you know it works like that?!”

“I don’t, nor does anyone else for sure. That’s the current theory. We’ll be contributing to science.”

“We’ll be contributing to our own termination!”

Barb threw her hands up, “Do what you want. We accidentally wound up starting an off-matrix experiment yesterday, and I intend to intentionally carry it forward, with greater precision.”

The following Monday, Gretchen had a big, soft wobbly body part at the apex of her legs when she arrived at work.

“Lookin’ good, Gretch.”

She sauntered up to Barb, taking Barb’s not-yet-gloved right hand and placing it on her brand-new fat mound, then moving it to her nearest soft, thicker thigh.

“Niiiice!”

“If it stops, maybe.”

“A On just signals the adipose cells active, as you know. It doesn’t control amount of activity on those cells.”

“Yeah, that’s the intestinal microbiome, and I’m not messing with that!”

“You and I and everyone else mess with it every day, via the combination of everything we eat and drink, plus I’m sure some environmental effects. Really what it means is to the degree you might get fat from so-called overeating or whatever, the fat might preferentially land on your beautiful new fat mound and your thighs, rather than where it would usually land before the experiment.”

“I don’t need any more! I’m already getting stares.”

“Stares schmares. How does it feel?”

“I got off twice this morning before work, feeling it” she blushed.

“There ya go! Biochem for the win!”

“If it stops. You have the advantage that yours is hidden. What’s happening on you?”

“Come feel.”

Gretchen didn’t have to feel: Barb’s mound was visibly fatter by mere observation, by a significant amount—probably 4 times the size of Gretchen’s growth. She felt it anyway. “Fuuuuck!”

“I won’t be applying any A Off” she smiled.

“I’ve been thinking since you mentioned this being an experiment last week: how are we going to report our testing without getting canned for flagrantly violating testing on humans protocols and playing with proprietary products still in early development?”

“Haven’t figured that out yet. Capture the scientific data as completely as possible as scientists now, play politics later.”

The following week, Gretchen had Barb apply A Off in as close to the same concentration and positions as with the A On, again using a contaminated glove to minimize the number of variables. The only real difference was Gretchen not jerking away playfully, leaving Barb to do a slower wipe across her thigh. Both of them were highly interested in what the results would be.

A day later: no change.

A week later: no change. If anything, Gretchen’s muff mound and thighs were slightly fatter.

“So much for the reliable switching of adipose cells” Gretchen sighed. “The A On worked great. The A Off, not so much.”

“Testing up until now has been in vitro” Barb answered. “We jumped directly to in vivo, which might not be working the same.”

“Goody for us” she sighed again, with resignation.

There was another batch of A Off going through for testing, so they tried that, again with the same application method and a very slightly higher measured dose.

Same results: A day later: no change, or slightly fatter.

A week later: no change, or slightly fatter.

Gretchen had more reason than ever to watch what she ate, now that she had a bright round-ish beacon of bobbling crotch fat where lots of people (esp. people attracted to women like her) tended to look. It was a very nice fat muff and felt exceedingly good to her, but it did look out of place unless she tried to hide it between her now-thick thighs. Besides the hiding not truly working unless she was bent over, if she did manage to do it whilst walking, the delightful friction would get her off, leading to a whole different issue for out in public. It was easier and not quite as attention-grabbing to let it bobble around and have some people stare.

She did go on a trusted, sane weight-loss diet for gradually losing small amounts of excess fat in a healthy manner. Indeed, her mound and thigh fat diminished, even if they didn’t get close to reverting all the way to how she’d been before the start of the experiment.

Jenny was saddened by the reduction of Gretchen’s fat mound, with other group members mourning the lessening of her thigh softness (which they’d found to be very sexy and comfortable). But it wasn’t any of their bodies, so they wisely (other than Jenny) kept their opinions mostly to themselves.

Jenny’s sadness over what was lost on Gretchen was more than compensated by what was gained on Barb. Having so much more of Barb down there to plant her face into was a dream come true! The tough part was Barb not being able to explain how nor why the sudden change happened, having to claim “It’s just one of those things”.

“I wish I knew what it was like to live with a huge fat curvy ass, the way you all do” John sighed one night, about two months after Gretchen and Barb’s originally unintended experiment. “I mean, I’m getting into having some belly and the mini moobs even though I’m not a boob man just so I have something, but… I can’t help dreaming.”

“What do you call this?!” Tara retorted, grabbing and woggling his penis. “I would love to have one of those, all fully functional like yours! We’ve been over this before: all of us have gifts others of us don’t have. We all share our gifts and let each other and our other group lovers play with them, as well as playing with ours ourselves.”

“I know, and I don’t mean to be selfish, but the imagination wanders. Heck, if there were any way to control where the fat went, I’d be into having a man’s fat ass, if I couldn’t have a woman’s curvy one. I’ve seen men like that so it should be possible for a genetic male, even if not for me.”

“I can relate” said Jenny, cuddling her huger-than-ever butt into his back—as big as Barb’s now, with rounder buns and more prominent hips. “Given how much I love fat mounds, the way John loves fat asses, and how Barb and others have dreamy ones, I often wish mine would get fatter. I mean it is nicely fat and I appreciate every bit of it, but it’s not an outlier like hers is becoming.”

Crazy, insane ideas had been flowing through Barb’s mind during most of this restful nighttime before sleep in-bed discussion. She had many things to contemplate, and dreams of her own.

The crazy, insane ideas nagged Barb for an additional two and a half months, routinely showing up in her nighttime sleeping dreams. Over that time, the ideas bouncing around in her mind seeking clearer form gradually seemed less crazy and insane, and more necessary.

She did a great deal of research, much of it at home, often nude with one or more and often all of Jenny, Tara, and/or John cuddled into/onto her. One such typical night as she researched in bed, Jenny contentedly rested her head on Barb’s very fat mound (and by proximity, some of her belly fat) whilst John restfully pressed his gennies into her crack, with Tara lying partially over John and Jenny, claiming Barb’s left breast as a pillow. When asked about what she was doing, she evasively replied, “Homework for work”.

Eventually Barb had a plan, one which she deeply believed would make her favorite lovers happy beyond their wildest dreams. It was a risky plan… dangerous, even. All her research had been about minimizing risk and maximizing positive results, but the whole thing was a grand experiment.

She spoke with her 3 live-together lovers, and separately with the Licks and several others in the group. In each case, it was difficult to get them past their extreme initial excitement to rationally contemplate the hard reality of what she was proposing.

The excitement never died down for any of them, with each of them on the spectrum between politely inquiring (Lou Lick, Tara) and badgering (Linda Lick, and especially Jenny) regarding progress towards making the possibility a reality.

“This isn’t a party, people” Barb called out to the assembled group, “this is serious.”

Gathered together at the house Tara owned along with Barb were Tara, John, Jenny, The Licks, Don and Sheila Portola, Edie, and Gretchen. Clothes on (for now), no food nor beverages, asked to please stay focused.

The excited (other than Gretchen and Barb) group settled down.

“We’re on a time deadline related to the freshness and thus efficacy of the FMT component of the protocol, so we have to stay tightly focused if you all want your dreams to possibly come true. What we’re proposing to do is extremely risky, and technically illegal.”

“We’ve read and signed the forms, Barb” Lou Lick interrupted. “In the interest of time and efficacy, can’t we just get on with it?”

“I’m not convinced that all of you or even most of you can see past your lust and related desires to understand that this is permanent—not something you can get off to and take off until the next time you’re horny! Not only permanent, but we can’t guarantee you’ll get what you want. Neither Gretchen nor myself have developed medical problems from our experiment, but that doesn’t mean one or more of you might not have issues. And if you do, you can’t tell your health care providers about what you did, lest you want me behind bars. Are we clear on this?”

The group murmured agreement. Barb had already hammered these points home with each of them individually enough times that to a person they were sick of hearing about it. They’d each carefully read every word of the contract, understood, agreed, and signed. Going over things again seemed like an unnecessary delay, which Barb herself just admitted might reduce the chances of success.

“We have five minutes for your last-chance questions for myself and Gretchen, who did the hormonal analogue signaling part of the protocol but nothing beyond. Remember: opting out is the safe choice, and no one will be judged for making that choice.”

“Safe unless unrequited dreams crush a person’s spirits” said John.

“That’s an individual choice, for which none of us should judge another’s choice. Quickly now, questions for me or Gretchen, before those of us wishing to go through with this get started?”

Sheila had one, “Question for each of you: is there anything you don’t like about the changes from what you did to yourselves?”

“No” replied Barb, motioning towards Gretchen.

“My thighs have gotten so fat I can’t wear pants nor panties unless I make them myself, and people want to grab my giant fat cunt, neither of which I’m happy about.”

Don had one, “If you knew then what you know now, would you have done anything differently?”

Barb again replied “No”, needing no further elaboration.

“It would take me too long to reach a conclusion on that” was Gretchen’s reply. “It’s a complex mix of things I like and things I don’t.”

He had a follow-up. “Would you regret not having had the experience of knowing life in you altered body?”

“Can’t answer that. I would have had no way of knowing either upsides or downsides without experiencing them.”

Barb waited a moment through the silence. “Any other questions?”

There were none.

“Alright, here we go.” She and Gretchen went around passing out capsules from a refrigerated-cool bag. Everyone had some water to wash the pills down. Barb took one herself; Gretchen did not.

“What you’ve just consumed all but guarantees that you’ll get fat or fatter, more so for those of you who aren’t fat or aren’t very fat. If all works out well, your intestinal microbiome will be adjusted with bacteria and whatnot that are aggressive in terms of enabling fat storage. For them it’s life or death, so they’ll be signaling you to eat early and often. Those of us who’ve been fat for a long time or our entire lives have had at least some of these bacteria in us, and let me tell you, the signals to eat are hard to resist, because those suckers don’t want to starve and die! Remember: think positive thoughts all the way along, now and forever more. Our gut brains and skull brains and our entire bodies are one, working symbiotically with the parasites within our intestines to make us who and what we are.

“Now that we’ve dealt with that, we’re ready to move on to the other component of this experimental protocol: the cream. This is a mix of a number of ingredients, including the fat cell signaling compounds Gretchen and I have been testing at work, which none of you are supposed to know exist, much less put on your bodies. It is not magic and it does not in any way guarantee that you will gain fat where the cream is placed. Evidence so far is that the compound signals for fat storage in the vicinity of where it is applied, but there is no precision. All we can do is have you apply it over the whole area you’d like to have fat or fatter, and hope that that’s what happens. Think positive… believe. Don’t play with the cream! If you get it on other parts of yourself, those parts may or may not get fat or fatter also. Under no circumstances touch anyone else with the cream, other than helping them apply it where they can’t reach, or it’s difficult to reach. Don’t touch anything after application of the cream until you’ve thoroughly washed and dried your hands with the liquid hand soap we’ll apply so that you don’t touch the container, dried on the disposable towels we’ll hand to you.”

“Everybody make your mounds fat!” Jenny cried out.

“Everybody do what you want—no more, no less!” Barb countered as she held out the container of cream, a mix of the latest iteration of Bioteronimo A On and other ingredients meant to encourage fat cells to store fat, and help everything migrate through the skin to where it needed to be.

If the excitement in the room could have been turned into electricity, it would have powered not only Tara’s house, but at least one other. Gretchen downplayed the extensive ongoing pleasures she got out of her huge muff mound, but each of them knew of it from sex with her at group meet-ups, and even just seeing her in the poly group context since the change. The four live-together lovers of the Mercer/Pelvig/Bloom/Patussi household all made sure to coat their genitals thoroughly, for themselves and their lover Jenny. This inspired the Licks, Sheila (Don was so far an observer), and Edie to do so as well.

John wanted fat just about everywhere, especially if possible on his ass and hips. All his lovers applied about as much cream as Barb and Gretchen thought would be effective to these areas, along with his thighs, belly, and already-decent moobs. Tara and Linda didn’t think that they could possibly grow more ass and hips than they had, going ahead and applying/having help applying the cream these places. Jenny was close to that point, yet she too went ahead with applying/having applied the cream.

Many of them were beyond the pale with boob lust. Sheila wanted more. Jenny, already as big as her mother had ever been and far bigger than when she’d been in high school, wanted to try for more. Tara’s small breasts had always been a sore spot for her, thus she wanted all her lovers to cream her up there. Mid-sized Edie got caught up in the moment, covering her 36E breasts evenly with cream. Linda was soft and jiggly on her chest(s) and wanted more. Barb couldn’t imagine that with her giant breasts already so hugely full of fat that any of the protocol would do anything, yet figured it wouldn’t hurt, might be fun if something happened, and would definitely be another aspect of scientific testing.

In rushed Alain. “Am I too late?!”

“Do you really want to get fatter?!” Barb insistently asked.

“I need to try the thing Gretchen did!”

“Take this now” Barb told her, handing her one of the last of the fat-inducing pills and a cup of water. “Now get your clothes off and apply the cream evenly all over your mound, as well as anywhere else you want to hopefully be fatter.”

“Just the mound. I have enough everywhere else as it is.”

“Perfect. Ask someone if you need help, and don’t touch anyone else nor any part of your body you don’t want to be fat—if things work out.”

To Barb’s amazement, Gretchen got caught up in the moment. She reached in for the last capsule, downing it with water, then applied cream all over her mid-sized breasts.

Barb gave her a silent look of “Are you sure about this?”

Gretchen already seemed to be having impulsive person’s remorse, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

The results were not especially fast, however they were relentless, where they worked. Everyone felt swelling (a layer of new fat) somewhere within a day or so. Over that same time span as the bacteria which hadn’t been part of their intestinal biome established themselves, their appetites grew, more so with those initially of smaller appetite, hardly noticeable for the existing big eaters.

Over time the results for nearly all of them were dramatic, bringing us up to the present, 3 1/2 years after the start of Barb and Gretchen’s unplanned experiment, around 3 1/4 years from the big top secret experimental dosing event.

The one single thing they all shared in common (besides having more fat on them somewhere) was each of them having fat genital mounds (or FUPAs or fat pads for those who prefer other terminology), ranging from very fat to profoundly fat. The hands of those in the original foursome living-together group (John, Tara, Barb, Jenny) had fattened enough that they could no longer wear their rings. Rather than make new larger ones, Jenny proclaimed that having a fat mound was equivalent, if not better.

To everyone’s amazement, Gretchen’s got even bigger. She looked fairly bizarre with a mound the size of a volleyball, though having hugely fat, soft, shapely thighs each of which were larger than her and most people’s waists reduced the shock a bit. Her butt wasn’t especially fat, being rather small. Really the only other especially fat/large part of her were her breasts: big enough now to draw plenty of attention in the outer world, though no larger than Sheila’s had been before this grand experiment. She’d generally thickened a little all over, ate a lot, and was slowly learning to become comfortable being an odd-shaped large in places BBW. She didn’t truly regret her spontaneous decision, despite the significant changes to her body and life. She rested her hands atop her huge muff mound often, whether clothed or nude. When nude and horny, she had a very special sex organ to play with, and did.

Alain had already been a hypercurvy BBW. She hadn’t intended to take the pill to get fatter, being OK with the balanced degree of fatness she had. Having taken it and still being the most active foodie chef/baker of the two communal homes, she got even fatter, by a significant amount. To everyone’s amazement, the fat distribution remained about the same, making her possibly the most extremely hourglass-figured large SSBBW who’d ever existed—and she was still slowly gaining! The one change was that she too now had a big, fat, and in her case somewhat hairy mound approximately the size of a volleyball hanging between her legs. Hers wasn’t as round as Gretchen’s. Her slot was unbelievably inviting, ensuring that her extreme desirability for people programmed to respond to her archetypal feminine body shape continued unabated. The live-in families of the two communal homes had been on the verge of comping her living expenses so she could cook and bake full time and not have to work; her fattening, difficulties out in the world with her dangerously sexy body, and an additional factor soon to be mentioned pushed things over the verge to accomplished fact. She did highly enjoy sex and loved everyone in the poly group to varying degrees, making becoming a full-time food prepper at the communal homes who sometimes worked nude (more often: nude with an apron) safe, enjoyable, and fun.

Edie was an interesting case. She’d mostly fattened up in her muff mound, with a volume close to Gretchen’s and Alain’s, yet with more saggy hang, making it even tougher to classify with a ball size. Without accompanying large degrees of extra fatness nearby, it looked even bigger, being immediately obvious to anyone who looked at her, no matter what she wore. She loved the outcome, thinking it was great! This of course wasn’t solely due to the look and exterior feel, and not all that much in terms of what others thought. As for Gretchen, Alain, and truly all of them, it was a brand-new unusual sex organ, giving her and her lovers all kinds of pleasure. She’d thickened up all over, but not really as much as most of the others. No one knew why, yet it was more hard data for Barb’s and Gretchen’s experiment. She was initially less happy with her breasts, which had indeed grown a good amount, but as big saggy sacks that preferred pointing at her thighs when not held in a bra. It wasn’t until others in the group showered her and them with affection and Barb and Sheila showed her some fun things to do with highly extensible and mobile breasts that she came around to enjoying them.

At the last moment back on the day of the dosing, Sheila Portola rubbed the cream all over husband Don’s genitals, with him going for her hips, buns, and slightly round belly—all areas where she had some existing fat, but not much. Both of them ended up triple-dosing her already quite big breasts, just to be sure.

Don hadn’t intended to participate at all, and hadn’t taken the microbiome-tweaking pill. Thus over the years his fat gain was mild and natural with age, concentrated mostly on his mound. It was strange having his penis nearly swallowed up in an odd organ which made him almost appear to have a vulva—or at least a big mound of fat with a slot. Fattening gradually over time he had plenty of time to get used to the changes, finding them sensual, comfortable, and pleasantly modest compared to the others who’d undergone the experiment.

Sheila hadn’t been pleased with the last-moment laughter-filled coating of her hips, buns, and belly, given that she was all about the breasts and felt she was already big enough these other places from her natural fat gain to enhance her breasts. As all these parts of her blew up with fat along with her larger-than-volleyball-sized mound and her breasts, she quickly came to appreciate the proportionality, and the joys of living in a full SSBBW body. Still nowhere near as huge as Tara, Barb, or in the latter years Jenny had been, her hips were wide enough to scrape slightly but not especially narrow door frames, her buns round enough to stick well out behind her, and her belly big enough for good symmetry and a comfortable resting place for her hands. To her, her husband’s, and everyone in the group’s delight, her breasts grew humongous—easily the size of Barb’s giants, before this experiment got started. Best of all, she was still eating heartily and getting fatter all these places!

Lou and Linda Lick hadn’t honestly expected much to happen, given how hardcore into fat gain they’d been for so many years. They were wrong!

Lou had already had a fat mound (or fat pad) going into the experiment. Over time it grew into a massive fat thing hanging between his legs down to his knees! It might have been more obvious if it weren’t for his huge, thick slab belly hanging nearly as far down. His breasts—the other area he and Linda had concentrated the cream on him—were very nice: very big, wide, and full. Until one studied the nipples and areolae, they really did look like fairly big women’s breasts. Moving his 800+ pound body around with all that belly fat and that huge mound wasn’t easy, which, kinky as he was, in itself aroused him.

Linda, already supersized with a big, fat, round ass, matching hips, belly, and breasts—very much like Sheila was now, other than back then her breasts weren’t as big as Sheila’s now—absolutely blew up into USBBW range, right there with where Barb and Tara had long been, and Jenny had more recently been. Same general shape, a lot more of everything, especially her giant basketball-sized mound!

Interestingly, Jenny and Linda were now fairly close in size and very close in shape, with Jenny being the larger woman. She had absolutely the biggest, fattest mound of any of them: basketball-plus sized, hanging to her knees. A person’s foot could get entirely lost in there, and she loved it!

Each of Tara’s mounds were just a bit smaller than Linda’s: basketball-minus, one could say (or write). Between them and her middle thigh fattening and pushing her other thighs apart, her hips splayed more, making walking difficult. This made her walk less, which made her more sedentary, which made her fatten more, not helping the problem. For now, everyone remained aware of the issue, taking no explicit corrective action at this time. Not that her double-wide ultra fat very soft belly flowing over and covering her mounds, wrapping well around her sides and part of her back and hanging past her knees made things any easier! Her buns and hips were a whole other matter making sitting and lying around a far better option than walking. Enormous barely began to describe them! Each bun was as wide as Edie now was, spreading her hips and legs that much further apart. Through the miracles of the human body, her pelvises had gradually widened over time to accommodate the changes. Given all this mass and having nearly two lower bodies as always, it wasn’t unreasonable that she weighed well into the 900s of pounds and could still move around OK, outside of the issues noted.

She loved the changes, especially her fatter mounds—a dramatic change. The most dramatic change and the one that Tara most appreciated was finally having big breasts, after a life of small breasts. It didn’t matter that they weren’t much bigger than Linda’s before the experiment: to Tara and the outside world, they were huge! She played with them all the time, and encouraged others to do so, which with some N.B.E. tricks from the Licks kept them big, full, and growing larger (which they would have been doing to some degree anyway from the microbiome shift and the gene signaling).

Barb truly didn’t think much if anything would happen: her microbiome already was optimized for fat storage, and she was already a USBBW who was fat pretty much everywhere. Well… that’s not quite how it went. Her mound had been fat for years and fatter since the accidental start of the experiment. With thorough coating of all of what she had the day everyone else joined the experiment, her mound fattened to around the same basketball-sized of giant as Linda’s, in a different shape (as was true for each of them, for shape). She and her lovers coated her all over, especially her breasts. She gained added fat all over, mostly not anything all that dramatic, except her breasts. Already the reference for huge boobs amongst the entire poly group, to her amazement, shock, and mix of dismay and joy, they grew life-alteringly record huge! With insufficient space for them out front to grow much more side-to-side, they wrapped around her sides, serving as partial built-in arm rests for her hugely fat upper arms (which also fattened further). They definitely grew out, even farther in front of her than ever before. Her areolae swelled to dinner plate sized, her nipples growing big enough to be seen through most fabrics when at rest. Truly, she could barely see anything past her boobs for quite a distance, and could not reach past them forward and to the sides! Having gained her 800s of pounds over time and having been a SSBBW then USBBW for so many years with well-developed and very strong leg muscles, she could move around OK, other than everything on her bounced and she couldn’t see the floor for at least a meter and a half in front of her and to her front sides!

Then there was John Mercer. In terms of dramatic changes, he was the hands-down winner. Starting from small BHM with nice moobs on the border of boobs on an overall enlarging body frame with a pleasantly fat small belly and other softness, he blew up with fat more than any of them—including Linda Lick.

His basketball-sized fat mound was absolutely amazing, along the lines of Jenny’s, Linda’s, Tara’s, and Barb’s, with several twists. His was far and away the biggest on a man—even bigger than Lou’s, who’d started out with a big one when John had nothing of the sort. It was soft and wobbly bobbly, also hanging down about to knee level, as with Lou. It was big and full. It acted as a parking garage for his penis and had absorbed his scrotum, giving him amazing rubbing sensations on his penis head nearly every time he moved! As with Lou’s, it looked quite like a deep-slotted fat mound that would have a vulva inside, as with the women. Indeed, John could take—and had taken—several of the other group penis owners’ (mostly men) penises in there, for an amazingly great rubbing sexy time that they all loved and got them all off.

Notwithstanding his disinterest in breasts, he’d been coated well by Tara and others, and they grew. In fact, they were not all that much smaller than Tara’s now! Having his own pair this big, bouncy, full, and newly sensitive made him reconsider the pleasures of breasts, though still and forever he would remain an ass addict.

By no means was it just his genitals and former moobs which had been coated well. All three of his live-together lovers led by Barb ensured that every millimeter of his hips, buns, thighs, and belly were thoroughly coated, especially the first two. Oh did that ever work! Symbiosis between the adipose cell signaling and the microbiome shift made things happen no one thought possible: John Mercer’s ass and hips were about the size of Jenny’s when she became a USBBW! He’d become huge! No, it wasn’t quite with the full feminine curves the cisgender women in his life had, but it was surprisingly close for a genetic male!

All throughout the process from when it started, he’d been amazed and oh-so-grateful! Now, he knew what it was like to live in a body with a ginormous fat ass and hips, because he had them! Nice and soft and wobbly, all full of fat as with his lovers, all the way back to Jenny in high school then more so Tara when she saved him. He could feel as well as see his ass spread when he sat, out behind him as well as to the sides! When his hands weren’t otherwise occupied, most often they were caressing or resting upon his hips.

As with his main lovers and now Linda and Sheila, there was plenty of soft, bobbly belly fat to give his body symmetry—and he was a lot fatter and bigger around than Sheila! He couldn’t stop grinning, having to carefully squeeze through doorways the way his main loves had long had to do.

Barb wanted him to have fat upper arms like her, so she’d also coated him there. That worked too.

Even with a fair degree of male rectangular chunkiness in the underlying genetics, when one gets into the ultrasized fat range, genders often do start to blur—especially with big 58H womanly breasts and some serious fat hips as well as buns! He’d become very soft rounded curvy, and loved it!

About a year or so earlier as John and all of them were still gaining to these mighty new pinnacles of glorious fatness, he passed through a range where he fit well into Jenny’s decades-old tie-dye white cotton dress, which hadn’t fit her since not a whole long time after she joined the threesome family to make it a foursome. While he didn’t feel especially motivated to change his gender identity, given how often people already mistook him for a large SSBBW/small USBBW with short hair until they saw his face (and sometimes even then) and given what his body was already doing with bigger breasts, he gave it a try. He grew his hair out, shaved really carefully, and wore the dress with pairs of Barb’s old shoes or sandals (her feet were about the size of his). They made all kinds of videos and took many pictures during this phase, which lasted several months until he outgrew the dress. There was not one single time he wore that dress out when anyone thought he was anything other than a cisgender woman—even at Model Magicians, the first day he came in like that! Fun as it had been, he preferred presenting as a man, and reverted.

He quite liked the ease and convenience of tent dresses, moving into a larger one Barb then Tara then Jenny had used (as they all fattened through its size span) which was more gender-neutral.

Part of the thrill for several of them was how seriously inconvenient it was to live in such hugely fat bodies of their specific configurations. This too led to significant life changes.

Every single one of the four Mercer/Pelvig/Bloom/Patussi family members were far too fat to drive anything other than perhaps some profoundly-modified heavy-duty vehicle they didn’t currently have. So was Linda Lick, with Lou being close if not there. Sheila Portola wasn’t far away, even though husband Don was unlikely to ever have this problem, thus it wasn’t entirely an issue for them.

Doorways which had been widened in John’s and Tara’s homes generally remained suitable, with those which had not—mainly ones John never expected his then-dream fatass pear lover to need to use, and some lesser-used utility-type ones at Tara’s—ranged from difficult to impassable. With John now in or soon to be in the USBHM realm, neither house truly had enough furniture to hold them all in their magnificent corpulence, other than the double California King bed set at legally-still John’s house, which still held them all with no room to spare… no room for the growth which was still happening.

Lou and Linda Lick hadn’t ever gotten around to widening most of their doorways other than a few essential ones through which Linda needed to pass every day. The Portolas had been getting into a similar situation as Sheila grew after the dosing.

Then there was work. The nature of Tara’s position allowed her to keep on working, almost no matter how huge she got, as long as she could get there and get home. John, nearly a generation older, was very near traditional retirement age. He could still do some of the work, but other things such as crawling around in tight spaces for building maintenance were completely off the table. Through all these changes, Tara and John still loved one another with a love like no other, and even after so very many years rarely spending more than an hour apart and usually not even a few minutes, they still wanted to be with each other every possible moment.

The Licks had it easier: they were both close enough to retirement age at their respective jobs to take early retirement, and did so.

Sheila Portola had been having trouble reaching around herself for awhile as she fattened. There came a point where between that and some members of senior management not appreciating her body size, shape, and consistency, they negotiated for her to take a very early pro-rated retirement, to get her out of there.

Barb and Gretchen’s work situation was the most complicated of all.

Even with her body becoming ever-more distracting as she fattened, Gretchen had no physical impediments to continuing to work (and she mostly worked in the lab with Barb anyway, not generally seen all that much nor all that long by others). Barb’s impediments were severe enough that she basically couldn’t work, once her breasts and upper arms fattened past where she could see in front of her and reach past herself. Unlike John and Tara, their work fates were in no way tied to one another: Gretchen could keep working even if Barb had to quit or try to retire unbelievably early.

Except their fates were tied together, by the very experiment that made Gretchen stare-worthy and Barb unable to work. There had been suspicion amongst several employees—but no proof—that something wasn’t entirely on the up-and-up in the lab where Gretchen and Barb worked. Testing errors happened, sometimes requiring additional materials under test, so initially no one noticed an issue. Bioteronimo had been doing well, and in pursuit of knowledge on a rapid time scale, staff sometimes played fast and loose. An audit a couple of years after the big dosing event related to an impending IPO revealed the aberrant consumption of under-development materials under test, A On especially. Reported as errors or spills in the materials log, there were no matching notations in the test log of these errors or spills.

Before Barb had fattened to where she absolutely could not work or drive herself to and from work, the day came where the internal auditors blindsided her and Gretchen with their findings, demanding answers. Neither of them had expected to be caught, so they hadn’t worked out any sort of plan for such a contingency.

Brash bravado came naturally to Barb. Along with her instantaneous decision being that honesty was the best policy, she straight-out told the auditors that after an accident where she and Gretchen each got some residue of the variant of A On being tested at the time, they noticed intriguing results on their bodies: fat deposits evenly throughout a body organ, even when only part of that organ had been contacted by the A On. They then chose to continue limited experiments on their own bodies, gathering additional data.

The auditors were legal and bean-counter types, not scientists. The legal ones nearly went berserk that they’d been doing unauthorized medical testing on themselves, in flagrant violation of company policies and federal laws.

Gretchen’s upper-body sway along with saying, “You don’t think marketing a product capable of persistent bust enhancement is worth pursuing?” may have been ill-advised, given how the legal beagles went after her for squandering company resources for personal gain, beyond the other violations.

“What the eff are we going to do?” Gretchen asked Barb, once the auditors left (to work out what would happen).

“They may be holding kings and think they’re gonna win, but we’re holding aces!”

The high-stakes nature of what Barb had in mind gave Gretchen the willies. She had to admit it might just work, and that she sure had nothing even half as good.

Barely an hour later, Barb and Gretchen were “invited” by security to head to the president’s office. As expected, H.R. was there, along with the audit team.

After the usual formalities, the president explained the charges against them, asking them to explain themselves. Barb again went with the truth: they’d been playing around, contaminated one another, found an interesting result, continued the experiment.

“You don’t deny any of the charges?!”

“No. That’s what happened.”

“Can you give me one reason why I should not fire you both immediately?”

Here is where Barb started laying down aces. The president of Bioteronimo, Mr. Will Imo, was a scientist and a businessman, not a lawyer nor accountant like the audit team. “Because if you fire either of us, you’ll never get the data from our experiment, delaying or possibly preventing the further development and refinements needed to allow Bioteronimo to offer market-disrupting innovative products.”

“All research and data gathered therefrom undertaken by employees of Bioteronimo are the uncontested property of Bioteronimo!”

“Yes, legally, that’s how it works. But practically, the data is not in the Bioteronimo IT system, nor in any other format on these premises besides fragments in my and Gretchen’s brains.”

“I’ll sue!”

“Sure… you can do that. Before you do, please consider the relative timing of my ability to transfer the knowledge to another party, possibly over the Internet, versus the speed of the legal system.”

“I’ll get a restraining order, right now!”

“What makes you sure that the data currently resides on equipment within the jurisdiction of the U.S. legal system?”

“This– this is outrageous!” he stammered. “You’re looking at bankruptcy!”

“If the legal system ever gets around to that.”

“You’ll never work in this industry again!”

“Maybe not. The real question, Will, is will you?”

“What do you mean?!”

“Remember all the brouhaha over at Uber, related to corporate sexism?”

Mr. Imo said nothing, looking first stone-faced then slightly ashen.

“Someone in the room with us who’s not you has been caught on video, groping several different female employees over several years.”

“You have no proof!” H.R. Director Grant Feelup shouted. At the very same moment, the security guard known as Rock spewed, “It was only one time!”

“Thanks for outing yourselves, guys!” Barb grinned. “And we do have proof, Grant.” She turned to the auditors, “Now how do you think that IPO is going to go if documented allegations of widespread sexual misconduct hit the news the same day, or before?”

She had Imo where she wanted him. The upshot was:

Around the same time as the audit at Bioteronimo was when some of the issues discussed above really started to become problems, in terms of ability to drive, fitting through doorways, and others’ ability or inability to work. A final disruptor was the death of John’s mother. She died quickly and peacefully, in her bed during the night. There was now another house of John’s—one with great sentimental and little practical value.

The grieving process for the four live-togethers—especially John and Jenny, who’d been quite close to Mrs. Mercer—went along far better with all the ongoing loving support, and to be honest, the fattening, giving him (especially) hope for a brighter tomorrow.

“Did you hear? Did you hear?” wide-eyed Edie exclaimed to the poly group as members continued to arrive for one of their usual monthly get togethers, her adorable already-nude belly and breasts bouncing up and down erotically.

“I hear many things” Barb teased, slipping her tent dress off over her head.

“The Woodmuntzy house next door caught on fire, burning out several rooms. I just asked the caretaker, and they’re going to sell it!”

This truly was big news! The house in question was a large 2-acre property immediately west of the two existing communal group homes. One of the first houses built in the area and nearly a century old, it had a great deal of floor space under its large single story bungalow-style roof.

The existing communal home residents didn’t truly need anywhere near that much extra space. More critically, they didn’t have the money for it. However, all the members who were close friends who’d participated in the fattening experiment and were each hitting critical points in their lives very much could make use of it! They wasted no time making plans to pool their resources to buy the property and remodel it as the third adjacent polyfidelity communal home for their needs, selling their existing properties to (eventually) pay for it.

Speaking of “pool”, an additional draw of the property was that it had a nice medium-sized in-ground pool in good condition. Neither of the existing communal homes had a swimming pool. Many was the time that a group resident or live-away member looked wistfully through gaps in the fence at the beautiful blue-green water of the extremely-seldom-used pool, thinking what a waste it was that they couldn’t make use of it. It wasn’t that the Woodmuntzys were mean people: it was that they were no longer healthy enough to live in the home, or when they still did, go outside to even say hello to the neighbors.

As interested as the Woodmuntzy estate executor was in earning top dollar for the property, the tangle of rules and regulations related to the fire damage and necessary upgrades during repairs plus a personal dislike of real estate people and finally a need for liquid cash motivated the executor to make a fair deal with the SquishLove limited liability corporation the group of would-be residents threw together to act as a unitary legal entity. Decently large portions of Barb’s and Gretchen’s breathtaking hush money payout provided the needed liquid assets to make it happen. The property never made it to the open market—SquishLove owned it!

Now it was a matter of getting the home remodeled to serve the present and future needs of its new residents. From the get-go, there were plans for a large, beautiful communal grand hall area, for both everyday living of the residents of this house plus visitors from the other two, and for group meetings.

The kitchen was designed to be quite large with lots of storage, for cranking out the mountains of food fat-via-eating ultrasized foodie people needed. An extension of the roofline over in the area where the core of the fire had been and the roof needed work anyway, it was very close to the kitchen of the existing communal house to the east, where Alain spent a good bit of her life. With a wide walkway between the kitchens, it wouldn’t be that difficult to work between them, or at least move ingredients, utensils, and so on between them.

Actual interior doorways were few, and only really for storage closets and the like. Everywhere else where there might have been a doorway were very large archways, allowing easy passage of usually two of the hugest bodies at the same time, in the same or opposite directions.

Closest to the grand room would be the truly gigantic master bedroom. Vaguely modeled after one of Hugh Hefner’s creations, it was a fat people’s and orgy lovers’ dream: an array of king-sized beds on a comfortable-height frame that really was as much an extension of the floor as anything else, raising the beds up to normal height and able to withstand truly huge forces from a houseful of rambunctious ultrasized sex fiends plus a whole bunch of their group lovers.

There were additional large bedrooms able to hold at least two if not 3 or 4 king-sized beds, for smaller groups, illnesses, privacy, etc.

Another masterful design and extremely large room was the bathroom. There only needed to be one, given the nature of this being a polyfidelity group. It far more resembled a dorm bathroom than a private home bathroom, with a huge tiled shower with many individual shower heads and controls, where one merely needed to walk in on the distant end over a small rise—no doors. Very open, very excellent for sexy group showers and very fat people helping clean each other off.

With amazingly giant asses still growing, it wasn’t just Tara who benefitted from specialty wide toilets. John finally had an opportunity to make use of the two spares he had in storage. As well, given the number of people, plumbing was specced to accept the unit in his house and the other design/other manufacturer unit older toilet in Tara’s house, once this remodel was far enough along for them to think about moving in and starting to ready the other houses for sale.

Over time, the reality of the new communal house matched the plans. Construction had its usual delays and occasional hang-ups. The Licks did a lot of the overseeing of the construction work, having just executed their early retirement.

As with many major projects of this sort, there wasn’t a clean cutoff to say that it was done. The closest approximation was when the contractors were done and the city inspector signed off on the project.

That was the beginning of a sometimes-mad, disruptive rush to merge furnishings and other belongings from each of their homes that they wished to keep, and get their legacy homes on the market and sold, to recover as much money as possible. Directly related were the significant costs for their extreme bedding, and other new super heavy duty furnishings for the grand hall.

By design every one of the group purchasers had some space in the new group home for personal areas, able to hold at least a couple of pieces of furniture they liked which others might not. Even without taking these spaces into account, there were pretty close to zero conflicts regarding what furniture would come over. The soon-to-be residents all made group trips to each other’s homes, one per day or every other day or so, to all remind themselves what was there for the big furniture and make decisions.

Once the agreed-upon big items plus must-have-for-sure items of any size were moved to the new home, they started a round of yard sales, one home per weekend, to clear unwanted things out and make a little more money. There was always a private pre-sale day where all the other group members could come by to pick out things they wanted, almost always for free, else discounted well below what the general public would be asked to pay.

All this work would be exhausting for anyone. Having to squish into vehicles where the driver barely fit and could barely drive, having to stand with one’s 6- 7- 8-hundreds of pounds of mostly body fat, and having to get into places which for John at least would have been trivial only a couple years prior and were now well-nigh impossible all took their toll. Gretchen, Edie, and sometimes others amongst the group who weren’t so massively fat helped as they could with driving and getting into these tight spaces.

Pia, a decently-conventionally-attractive average-sized slightly curvy group member who lived in the communal home farthest east (farthest away from the new house), happened to be a real estate agent. She was delighted to list all the properties, and handle the majority of the work for staging and otherwise selling the homes. Each of them selling a home (two, in John’s case) were fine with her taking a normal commission, to not have to do For Sale By Owner and to have someone they trusted to be on their side. Rather intrigued by the whole fat thing and very impressed with what the group had done to buy the Woodmuntzy property before it ever came to market, Pia wanted to stay on their good sides.

Everything in its time. The beds arrived, with the expensive super-custom mattress pads, sheets and whatnot either already there, or soon to arrive. Huge expenditure they’d all be using a very great deal of the time. Other new furniture which hadn’t yet arrived came soon.

Lots of fun fine-tuning the arrangement of the new and legacy-from-their-homes furniture.

The houses sold, starting with the Licks’, then the Portolas’. John’s family home was next. His personal adult home didn’t sell for as much as he’d hoped, related to work he’d meant to do and never got around to doing. The upside: the new owners were going to remodel the bathroom, so they didn’t care about there not being a toilet in there.

Tara’s home sold last. She didn’t realize how emotionally attached she remained to this house that she seldom visited until the sale was a done deal. The group of new residents made a fire in the revamped safe and relatively energy-efficient fireplace of their newly-remodeled home, then cuddled together nude with all kinds of tasty snacks as Tara let go via sharing her memories with them all, including residents of the other communal homes who dropped by to visit and listen. She naturally leaned back into John, feeling his protective loving field stronger than ever, at least some of it via his growing-plentiful soft warm fat.

This current day with giantly fat John Mercer settling himself next to Lou Lick came about 7 months after Tara’s house sold, which was as close as a point of finality as life offered. Mound House (as the remodeled Woodmuntzy home was being called) was finished, occupied by all of them, with all their retained belongings somewhere on the property (or in storage) and their legacy homes and other possessions sold off.

Feeling passions swelling in each of them, John and Lou started making out. Passionate mouth-to-mouth kisses were soon accompanied by fondling the other man’s mighty mound, working their way inside for some spectacular mutual cross-rubbing. John never used to be attracted to men sexually at all, and Lou’s attraction had been experimental and brief. Huge amounts of fat on anyone were just so diggity dog sexy, it changed everything. Never, ever interested in any kind of penis play after a long-ago mutual rubbing event which left him unmoved and uncomfortable not long after he’d joined the poly group, John’s new massive deep-slotted sex organ made it comfortable and pleasurable to take in one or more foreign penises to hang out next to his own, buried inside. He’d gotten into this during the phase where he presented as a woman, as an experiment in the closest he’d ever get to knowing what life with a vulva might be like on the inside.

Concerns about friction from all living together in one big house proved unfounded. For one thing, they truly all loved one another and were close friends—same as the adjacent poly group homes and their successes with everyone getting along. For another, it was a big house, with plenty of places to go for time and space away, definitely including the purpose-made smaller (relatively!) bedrooms designed with this intent. Nor were they restricted to just this house: other than overnight sleeping hours, any group member living in any of the three houses (as well as those living elsewhere and visiting) were free to roam the public spaces of any of the properties, always at least two living/family-type rooms in each of the houses, other than Mound House, where the Grand Room was truly so grand hotel common area huge that it effectively counted as two rooms.

Perhaps over time some of them might get bored and seek change. Not even a year into living together in this still-new still-fresh sex-positive ultrasized fat person’s dream home, it still felt like a permanent vacation: resting, relaxing, conversing, eating, and having as much or as little sex as any of them wished, of just about any type they may want.

As briefly mentioned, a surprising number of them shared the kink of being highly to extremely turned on by how inescapably, impractically fat they were, how this wasn’t going to change, and all the effort they had to go to in order to simply move around and live. Several of them were too fat to wipe themselves, now in this shared home always having a special friend and lover willing to go with them to help out, often timing their bathroom usage so they could help each other at about the same time. Communal rooms, the huge communal shower… this group was so into each other, even the toilets were communal: all 4 of the “Tara special” ultra-wide double-butt toilets lined up in a well-spaced row next to each other. Only the one on the end had a retractable isolation/privacy panel, which so far none of them used. Many times they carried on conversations seated on their individual porcelain thrones, did breathing exercises together, sometimes even flirted!

The passage of time and other factors meant more of them were retired, or retiring, or changing how they handled their work lives.

The Licks were already retired back when Mound House was remodeled.

Sheila Portola had already been urged into very early retirement. Husband Don, working elsewhere, wasn’t all that much fatter than many men out in the world, and kept working to keep income flowing.

Fat as she’d become, Gretchen was still smaller than Barb had been for many years, carrying on with the contract work to see it through to completion.

Barb was at the point of being so fat with breasts so enormous that moving around was becoming a challenge, and she’d already been unable to reach past herself without someone or something squishing her forward fat parts to allow her to reach. Gretchen took over her remaining consulting contract work which needed to be done physically in the lab, whilst she remained at Mound House. She spent a lot of time sitting at big dining-like tables, her breasts resting and spread out atop them. She set her boobtop computer atop her mighty breasts to work from home (or otherwise use the device). She ate off her breasts. Basically when it came to sitting up and needing a (relatively) horizontal surface in front of her, she lived off her breasts!

Work-at-home Jenny still loved cooking and loved Alain on many levels, including cooking and baking with her as a team and trading off the workload. Thing was that Jenny kept getting lazier as she kept getting fatter, spending more time lounging around and having sex most of most days. She felt guilty about it from time to time, despite everyone associated with Mound House enabling/encouraging her behavior. If Alain or anyone else cooking or baking truly had a problem or got overloaded, Jenny could still heft her massively fat self up and go help.

Everyone at Model Magicians was sad when John and Tara announced their retirement, despite it being obvious that both of them were getting so fat and in such a way that moving around was difficult. As one of the first steps from converting Model Magicians from privately held to employee-owned, the employees (not including John or Tara) voted for who would lead them. The elected president was Joni Monds, one of the four long-time senior employees John would have had to choose between at the time of his attempted suicide, had he not left everything to Tara.

It wasn’t at all a clean break, and that’s what everyone wound up preferring. Joni was 95% up to running the business herself, but still very much wanted John’s and Tara’s input. She and the rest of the staff missed them being around, and they missed being there, with nearly every employee being at least somewhat of a friend.

What wound up happening was that Joni drove and parked her car at Mound House, driving John and Tara in to Model Magicians in his built-for-fatasses sedan. It felt weird at first having someone else driving what had been his car for many decades, until Tara helped him focus on the joys of all his fat sloshing around and how great it was in retirement to be too fat to drive and need to be driven places, “forced” to enjoy his massive corpulence.

Retirement turned out not to actually be correct: it was more like semi-retirement, for both John and Tara. Initially, Joni drove them in two days a week. Wednesday was a working day, where they each helped out with the transition towards the future time they’d no longer be in at all, as well as with things they were especially good at. Friday was the second day, roughly split between work and afternoon socialization throughout the company for anyone interested and not on a hard deadline—a new feature the employees wanted and Joni implemented. Friday afternoons wherever in the building John and Tara were became known as Cuddles with Tara and John. Usually held in the inner office, though sometimes in the break room or elsewhere, it was an opportunity for any interested employee to cuddle up between them (the favorite choice) or with either of them. Equally good was visiting without cuddling. With so many people starved for physical contact, the cuddling was extremely popular.

Being generous people who had known the employees for years and liked them (at least), both Tara and John were very free letting staff members explore their bodies. Many had never in their lives touched a fat person, or if they had, not with explicit consent. As long as it was respectful, nothing apart from actual sex was off limits. Male staff members in particular were fascinated with John’s breast development, asking what it was like and at least one asking if there was a way he could manage it. John happily and regularly removed his shirt (and occasionally bra, the few times he wore one) to let them feel as he explained. All kinds of people wanted to know what was between John’s legs, many of them shocked once they found out. Tara was such a sweetheart, she let people who’d wondered for years what her two vulvas were like to see and, on the outside, touch for themselves. With rare, specific exceptions (such as John baring his breasts), they kept things away from sexually arousing or anything which the poly group would construe as sex (especially risky sex). Talking about sex was another matter, which they engaged in freely, when the subject came up.

This semi-retirement pattern worked well for John and Tara, and everyone else. There were times with specific projects where Joni would drive them in every day or nearly every day to help. Their skills and experience were appreciated, and many still working there full-time liked the explicit consent of squishing into them as they all worked.

Joni’s contact with the poly group and especially the residents of Mound House when picking up and dropping off John and Tara profoundly affected her. After a rather mundane, limited sex life and now in her 50s and lustier than ever, she found the idea of polyfidelity compelling. She’d been plump at points in her life and was presently again, so far without experiencing the sensual joys the Mound House residents to a person waxed on about when she met them. Greatly respecting both John’s and Tara’s intellect and tastes, she felt there had to be something spectacular about being fat for them to have gone to such extremes with their bodies.

With unanimous permission of all other employees, Joni sought to try out fatsex, first with John. She went through the poly group’s battery of STI tests first, clearing with no issues.

“You’re so (gasp) pillowy!” she exclaimed in the throes of intercourse (yes: John could still penetrate women’s vaginas, with some mutual effort. His very soft mound fat moved out of the way). “You’re like a warm bed and pillows and blankets and a sexy hard man all rolled into one!”

“Thank you, Joni!” he grinned as they humped. “The feelings living inside this body are indescribably delicious. And you are a quite fine lover, adding to your long list of credentials and positive attributes.”

It was a fascinating experience, leaving her with much to think about. Not attracted to women as far as she knew, given her fascination with what it would be like to live in a truly fat body, she and Tara shared some naked time together, for her to ask questions and explore beyond what happened at the work Cuddles sessions (though along the same lines).

“These big, fat muffs don’t get in the way?”

“Well they do, but they feel so nice and give me so much pleasure! It’s not like I have to walk long distances, nor run.”

Very much wanting more sex in her life no matter what her body size and actual attractions turned out to be, she inquired about joining the poly group as a member. John and Tara sponsored her application (and presented her), which was accepted. She was admitted as usual for her probationary half year, immediately able to share sex with any of the other existing members for which there was mutual interest and consent. She was also free to spend as much time as she wanted at any of the three communal group homes (during daytimes in the common areas, or invited to a live-in’s bedroom at night), as opposed to the brief and technically rule-bending if not -breaking visits she’d made when first meeting the denizens of Mound House when making initial arrangements for transporting John and Tara.

Safe, plentiful, free sex within the group proved addicting, ensuring Joni visited often. She spent time at all the houses, enjoying sex with most of the men. Given her closeness to John and Tara and already having met everyone there before she joined, she often spent her visits in the Grand Room of Mound House, when not getting with someone in one of the other houses, or getting to know residents there better. The high and near-omnipresent degree of sexual arousal fascinated her, and drew her in. She spent hours staring at what various residents were doing: Barb enjoying her breasts, John and Lou sharing sex their way, any two of them getting into Tara and getting her off. Then there were all those profoundly fat mounds that gave the house its name, and the amazing things Jenny and Linda did with them—others’ and their own. Clit footsie blew her mind, doubly so with Tara using her middle foot.

For a nominal fee to cover the extra cost of ingredients or pre-made foods, non-live-in members such as Joni could have meals at any of the houses. She started taking meals at Mound House, at first on the days she dropped John and Tara off after work, then weekend days. She found herself fattening naturally, without needing a microbiome-shifting capsule nor DNA signaling biochemicals. Feelings were mixed in the other two homes where many preferred more slender women. At Mound House, the support and joy were almost overwhelming! Over many months and ever-more-frequent meals at the House, she got big all over in a typical female fattening pattern, basically like Barb without her breasts being so extremely huge relative to the rest of her (though they were absolutely getting a lot bigger as the rest of her did). She was grateful that her mound fattened, making it easier for everyone to envision her as an eventual resident, even if hers was a typical tennis to baseball size of fat and not massive volleyball- or basketball-sized.

“Tee hee hee hee hee!” Joni giggled. She was currently sitting naked on the floor in her new home: Mound House, in the Grand Room, playing fat mound footsie and clit footsie with Jenny, seated across from her. In only about 7 months of eating there regularly then an additional year and a half as a full live-in resident. Joni had blown up well into SSBBW range, and loved it! Still fat all over in the typical BBW shape Barb still had at a profoundly larger scale, she now had all kinds of soft, fat flesh to enjoy and share with others. As she and Jenny played, her fat, round buns kept her comfortable sitting on the floor, spreading to the back and pressing into John’s much fatter ass, as her hips spread to the sides and her fat thighs flattened comfortably and so artistic beautifully. Her very big belly was fun to play with, as she was doing now as her right foot remained deeply buried inside Jenny’s huge fat mound. Jenny’s right foot poking into her own cantaloupe-sized fat mound felt excellent: tickly playful stimulation. Average to slightly busty before, Joni quite liked growing fat SSBBW boobs proportionate to the rest of her body. Saggy, yes, but they looked and felt nice, to her as well as her many lovers. Her fat upper arms, her fat face—she loved all the changes.

Many of her many lovers were in the room with her, this weekend day she had off. John was seated on the floor behind her, each of them serving as a very comfortable backrest for the other. Tara was more or less on top of John, sharing make-out kisses fat face-to-fat face, their nearly same-sized breasts and very differently sized and shaped soft fat bellies pressing into one another’s (nude, as was everyone). Linda Lick was trying an experiment: straddling Tara’s middle leg over her huge butt crack, she attempted to rub each of her hugely fat buns against each of Smooth and Furry. It was too soon to tell how well or not this would work for either of them. Edie passed by, grabbing Linda’s right breast and giving it a strong suckle.

“Down below, hun” Linda requested with a grin.

Eager to please and in the mood for some deep labia licking, Edie donned one of the breathing snorkels the group shared when anyone was doing a deep face plant into one of the huger mounds (or any other places where breathing might be difficult) and went in to Linda’s deep, warm darkness.

Deciding he could use some exercise, Lou hefted himself up, waddled slowly and carefully over Edie with his front aimed towards her feet, then used his now-profoundly-strong leg muscles to crouch down and swing his mighty fat mound sack back and forth, rubbing across Edie’s BBW fat buns. Edie immediately spread her legs, hoping his huge mound sack would find bits of her squished-behind-her own. It did, and it was sublime for both of them, with Edie making an OK signal with her hand so she wouldn’t have to pull her face out of Linda.

Fatter and foodier-than-ever Don Portola was helping his mutual crush Alain make and serve lunch, each of them “stealing” (fully consensual and desired) feels and kisses as they worked together in the kitchen. Sheila Portola was seated across two big chairs along with Gretchen and Barb at the big communal table, all of them resting their bare breasts atop the table, sharing conversation, great food, and playing with each other’s bodies (especially their boobs). Gretchen was currently sharing how her young 3-year-old nephew Todd had a very nice nap lying down on her (clothed) thigh and resting his head on her very fat mound when she’d recently visited her sister Gracie.

“He wants to call me Aunt Bed Thighs” she snickered.

“Probably better amongst family than Aunt Pillow Mound!” Barb laughed.

“My young relatives, being older and thinking they’re clever no doubt, would likely name me Chesty Mc Chesterson” noted Sheila.

One of the residents of one of the other houses passed through, dropping off a plate of fresh homemade onion rings on behalf of Alain.

“Nice ass jiggle, Pia” Linda commented.

More plump than she wanted to be, Pia bent over and mooned everyone.

Despite hers being far and away the smallest butt in the room, John couldn’t help notice, starting his instinctual reaction.

With a big smile Tara moved his hands to the juncture of each of their hip fat, squishing herself and him such that his hands would feel some of his own and her outer fat buns. “Stay right here, Sweetie. Between us, we have allllll the fat ass we need.”