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Description
When Stacy Jo tugged at my arm and asked if we could go somewhere private I knew exactly what she wanted to tell me. With her tits swollen up like prize-winning melons and her appetite on overdrive even more then when I was sparking it I could only guess that I had somehow managed to get one by the goalie on the first try.

When she locked the door to her room and confessed with a mortified look that she was two weeks late and five pregnancy test had come back positive with what she figured to by my child I gave her a reassuring pat even as she continued rambling.

"I'll work as long as I can. Right up until I'm too big to hide it. Please don't kick me out."

"I wouldn't dream of it. They'll be no reason to hide it as far as I'm concerned."

"But I'll probably get as big as a house."

"We can only hope."

After reassuring Stacy, explaining how it was best if she did not share with Mistress that I was the father and setting up a doctor to make house calls for the chubby mom-to-be I went back to face Mistress.

"The redhead done got knocked up," I informed her as she sat at her vanity with her tits resting on the counter while she did her make-up.

She did not even look from the mirror. "I was wondering. She had a glow about her the last few days. It happens. To tell you the truth it might be a blessing in disguise. Even before you came around bringing in the new clientele I would get requests for a pregnant woman from time to time. We might be able to make some money off of this."

I loved how we were on the same page. I massaged her soft shoulders and back fat until she reciprocated by undoing my fly and pumping with her chubby hands and licking until I exploded all over her chest and belly. She rubbed the goo in and then went back to evening out her foundation. "Better get cleaned up," she said. "Don't want to be late for supper."

I smiled and obliged. It was so cute how she was trying so hard to make the goal I had set up this season even though I had set it up for her to fail. I was greedy in wanting a excuse to swell my head mistress of diet up to 300.

With all I was doing I knew sooner or later I would get a certain request. I had even planned for it despite it not being my thing exactly. To be honest I even ignored the first three requests that came in. But money was money and since Stacy was a few months away from being big enough to pull in the specialty dollars I figured I might as well oblige the request that was not as time sensitive as pregnancy.

The call was simple, short and sweet. "How much for a cow?"

When the voice agreed to the ridiculous price I set I hung up the phone and hunted down our bustiest girl. Actually second bustiest. Wicca was the biggest titted but she pulled in the specialty clientele for chubby Asians so I did not want to mess with that.

Becca, 20, 5'4", 189, 42-30-39
Mistress had been trying to develop Becca, our blonde, blue-eyed girl, into a Anna Nicole Smith shape and was not doing too bad. She did not have any qualms when I explained what I was going to do, but she did not want to watch.

The first part was easy. I took the giggling girl a beer laced with a very special mixture of hormones and chemicals and had her guzzle it down. The next morning Becca's mam's were so swollen and tender she skipped breakfast to come see me.

Time to prime the pumps.

I took her downstairs and got her in the gloves. Instead of stretching her out a put her arms behind her and had the crane pull her into a bent over position.

"Is this really going to help?" she asked in a worried tone.

"I guarantee it," I smiled, affixing the suction cups to her nipples. When I turned on the pumps she squealed like a stuck pig for the first few minutes while the thing ran dry. Then her nipples started giving up the goods and she sighed. I tapped her out and then released her deflated puppies with the explanation that sometimes this kind of thing just happens and that she might just need to be milked daily for a while. I'm not sure she knew what to think, but like clockwork the next morning she came to see me with her udders swollen even bigger and leaking milk with each step. I pumped her dry again leaving out any explanation that I was conditioning her into a cow. The cycle went on for three more days before I set up the appointment and kept her on the crane unmilked for a couple days. Her knockers ripened into beat red milk sacks that were so tender she winced at ever sway even though her teats leaked almost constantly. They hung like bowling balls in a wet sock. When her John came everyone in the building could hear her moans of relief when she finally got milked.

After the John spread the word I started getting calls almost daily wanting to spend time with Becca. She would whine every time I came and got her to put on the crane for ripening, but I told her the money was good and that eventually her situation might clear itself up. Poor stupid Becca.

***

"We need a girl with a really big ass," Mistress announced one night in bed. Of course she had one in mind that just happened to be one she had a goal on, but she was right. Stacy and Chrissy were big-bellied girls, albeit for different reasons. Wicca was developing into our big-titted babe. Becca had her beat, but again for different reasons. There was simply no cellulite covered as that swayed with each step.

"So what are you suggesting?"

"Can we use the pumps for something like that?"

"Most definitely. Are you volunteering to try it out, with your flat white girl ass?"

"Like you'd let me start taking on Johns."

I shrugged. "You're right about that. It would kind of let you off easy. Business is business and we need a girl who blocks out the sun when she bends over. Lisa is on her way, but a little boost would certainly help profits."

After breakfast I brought Lisa down stairs.
Lisa, 23, 5'2, 188, 32-28-44

Lisa eased down the stairs in just her thong. She had outgrown all her pants and skirts. The thong was hanging on by a thread. I think she just liked going topless since Mistress had kept her diet to minimize and expansion above the waist.

She looked tentative when I attached her to the crane but by now she had heard the story from Chrissy and knew what to expect. "I'm already pretty fat. How much more do you want?"

"Why ruin the surprise by telling you," I winked.

I had three tanks set up. I know Mistress had a extreme pear in mind, but I didn't think it would hurt to give the girl C cup at least. She was darn near flat.

At her height Lisa's cheeks lost their round shape just over the 200 mark, right after her thong snapped. At 230 her hips shelved out. At 250 a thick ridge developed between her thighs and her hips. I diverted some fluid from the second tank and her thighs filled in to balance out her lower half. I cut back on the second tank just before 300 when her thighs melted over knees like mozzarella. Lisa's ass would never again fit through a normal width door. I looked at Mistress who shrugged and gave the signal to keep going.
At 350 Lisa's hips were wider across then she was tall and she was really going to have to reach to wash every nook and crevice in her lower half. I opened the valve for the third tank and pushed her just past a DD and then stopped with the scale reading 370.

Lisa was a sight with her face no fatter then when she had come in and her waist just a bit thicker from overflow of her hips. I helped her waddle to the freight elevator and then greased her hips to get her into her room so she could rest. She was too exhausted from the extended time on the tubes to even react other then to paw at her hip rolls before she drifted off to sleep.

When I got back downstairs Mistress had a huge grin on her face. "You think you're clever, but you still got another Goal to worry about," I warned, holding up the gloves and pointing to the crane.
Mistress winked coyly. "The way you feed me there's no need for you to put me in that thing." she stepped on the scale and let the numbers rest on 288.

"Good piggy," I winked. I made a mental note to adjust the amount of calories going to her tits. That belly was starting to outpace them and I had a goal in mind of PP cups flopping around just above her thighs.

***

By six months along Stacy Jo had become a planet. Or at the very least an asteroid. She was a pet project of mine and of course carrying my soon-to-be child so I spoiled her above and beyond the other girls. I brought her anything her heart desired which was mostly food.

Mistress seemed to sense I was playing favorites and must have got jealous because Stacy became her pet project in an entirely different way. As a result Stacy gained 80 pounds in her first two trimesters and every last ounce went to her belly and hips. That belly was a low hanging, drum-tight beach ball while her hips had lumps of lard jiggling atop pockets of cellulite.

Once her belly had popped Stacy was booked almost constantly. I turned people away to allow her a day of rest a week. The sessions were mostly role play. Guys wanted Stacy to be their barefoot and pregnant wife cooking up their meal while wearing nothing but a snug apron. The sessions would usual end with the guy blowing his wad on Stacy's epic belly. For these types of guys it was better then being in her., even though the talk was always how after she delivered they were going to knock her up with twins so she could get even rounder.

Stacy took it all in stride. We secretly made arrangements to give the baby up for adoption since she wanted no part of motherhood and I was grounded enough to know this was no place for a kid. I figured as heavy as Stacy was getting she had a couple months tops before she spent the rest of her pregnancy on bed rest. My thought originally had been to just keep fertile young Stacy knocked up. It would be easy to have it accidentally happen. Even as all her Johns wanted to paint her bulging middle I was slapping my balls on its underside as I rammed her almost weekly. It was too hard to resist. Her belly so round and firm while her ass was so soft and flabby. The swollen pregnant pear was such a stark contrast to Mistress's top heavy form even if I had not a ulterior motive I would have been doing it.

Thing was there would a lag in when we could not be collecting any of that prime, specialty money as Stacy recovered from delivery and then swelled up to peak form again.

Time to find another potential baby mamma.

I paid a visit to my prime potbellied pig Chrissy. By this time Chrissy was over 270 and had developed a wide fat gut that was slightly ahead of her other fattened parts. As Mistress and I had focused on the other girls we had lost focus of Chrissy and let her fat develop where it wanted to and it wanted to develop her into kind of a potato shape. She was not the most popular girl at the brothel and she knew it. Which made her easy pickings for a few well placed compliments. Or so I hoped.

"Looking sexy as always, Chrissy," I commented when I walked into her room and found her binging on Cheetos on her bed in front of the TV.

"I would hope you would think so. You're the one whose turned my into a junk food addicted hog," she snipped.

"Everyone has their slow periods. Things will pick up for you." I stroked her calf.

She did not smile, but she did not pull away. "I'm a 300 pound whale who can't see my feet that I'm guessing are fat like the rest of me. My tits are small, chubby triangles and my belly has three roles when I stand up. It's no wonder I haven't had a John in four days."

I sat down and ran my fingers around her deep belly button. "Well if your schedule's open…"
She batted my hand away. "Mistress would have my head on a platter and deep fry it if she knew you were even in here."

"Mistress's tits are anchored to the basement. It's her turn to milk Becca." When she did not respond I returned my hand to her belly.

"You really think I'm sexy?"

Five minutes later I was liking Cheeto dust off her two extra chins while she worked to lift her belly flap up enough for me to get in. Chrissy was really our of shape, panting and sweating less then five minutes in even though she was on the bottom with most of her movements being her flab quivering with each stroke. The second time I at least made her stand while I bent her over one of her chairs. You would have thought I made her jog up eight flights of stairs the way she panted afterward. Imaging how big and lazy she would be eight months pregnant got me hard enough to plow her a third time just to be sure.

Three weeks later a bloated and somewhat glowing Chrissy pulled me aside nervously and I knew before she opened her chubby lips mission had been accomplished. I made her a triple decker Pop Tart and peanut butter sandwich and told her to keep quiet about who the father was.

Things were going almost perfectly at that point. I should have know it wouldn't last.

Description
When Stacy Jo tugged at my arm and asked if we could go somewhere private I knew exactly what she wanted to tell me. With her tits swollen up like prize-winning melons and her appetite on overdrive even more then when I was sparking it I could only guess that I had somehow managed to get one by the goalie on the first try.

When she locked the door to her room and confessed with a mortified look that she was two weeks late and five pregnancy test had come back positive with what she figured to by my child I gave her a reassuring pat even as she continued rambling.

"I'll work as long as I can. Right up until I'm too big to hide it. Please don't kick me out."

"I wouldn't dream of it. They'll be no reason to hide it as far as I'm concerned."

"But I'll probably get as big as a house."

"We can only hope."

After reassuring Stacy, explaining how it was best if she did not share with Mistress that I was the father and setting up a doctor to make house calls for the chubby mom-to-be I went back to face Mistress.

"The redhead done got knocked up," I informed her as she sat at her vanity with her tits resting on the counter while she did her make-up.

She did not even look from the mirror. "I was wondering. She had a glow about her the last few days. It happens. To tell you the truth it might be a blessing in disguise. Even before you came around bringing in the new clientele I would get requests for a pregnant woman from time to time. We might be able to make some money off of this."

I loved how we were on the same page. I massaged her soft shoulders and back fat until she reciprocated by undoing my fly and pumping with her chubby hands and licking until I exploded all over her chest and belly. She rubbed the goo in and then went back to evening out her foundation. "Better get cleaned up," she said. "Don't want to be late for supper."

I smiled and obliged. It was so cute how she was trying so hard to make the goal I had set up this season even though I had set it up for her to fail. I was greedy in wanting a excuse to swell my head mistress of diet up to 300.

With all I was doing I knew sooner or later I would get a certain request. I had even planned for it despite it not being my thing exactly. To be honest I even ignored the first three requests that came in. But money was money and since Stacy was a few months away from being big enough to pull in the specialty dollars I figured I might as well oblige the request that was not as time sensitive as pregnancy.

The call was simple, short and sweet. "How much for a cow?"

When the voice agreed to the ridiculous price I set I hung up the phone and hunted down our bustiest girl. Actually second bustiest. Wicca was the biggest titted but she pulled in the specialty clientele for chubby Asians so I did not want to mess with that.

Becca, 20, 5'4", 189, 42-30-39
Mistress had been trying to develop Becca, our blonde, blue-eyed girl, into a Anna Nicole Smith shape and was not doing too bad. She did not have any qualms when I explained what I was going to do, but she did not want to watch.

The first part was easy. I took the giggling girl a beer laced with a very special mixture of hormones and chemicals and had her guzzle it down. The next morning Becca's mam's were so swollen and tender she skipped breakfast to come see me.

Time to prime the pumps.

I took her downstairs and got her in the gloves. Instead of stretching her out a put her arms behind her and had the crane pull her into a bent over position.

"Is this really going to help?" she asked in a worried tone.

"I guarantee it," I smiled, affixing the suction cups to her nipples. When I turned on the pumps she squealed like a stuck pig for the first few minutes while the thing ran dry. Then her nipples started giving up the goods and she sighed. I tapped her out and then released her deflated puppies with the explanation that sometimes this kind of thing just happens and that she might just need to be milked daily for a while. I'm not sure she knew what to think, but like clockwork the next morning she came to see me with her udders swollen even bigger and leaking milk with each step. I pumped her dry again leaving out any explanation that I was conditioning her into a cow. The cycle went on for three more days before I set up the appointment and kept her on the crane unmilked for a couple days. Her knockers ripened into beat red milk sacks that were so tender she winced at ever sway even though her teats leaked almost constantly. They hung like bowling balls in a wet sock. When her John came everyone in the building could hear her moans of relief when she finally got milked.

After the John spread the word I started getting calls almost daily wanting to spend time with Becca. She would whine every time I came and got her to put on the crane for ripening, but I told her the money was good and that eventually her situation might clear itself up. Poor stupid Becca.

***

"We need a girl with a really big ass," Mistress announced one night in bed. Of course she had one in mind that just happened to be one she had a goal on, but she was right. Stacy and Chrissy were big-bellied girls, albeit for different reasons. Wicca was developing into our big-titted babe. Becca had her beat, but again for different reasons. There was simply no cellulite covered as that swayed with each step.

"So what are you suggesting?"

"Can we use the pumps for something like that?"

"Most definitely. Are you volunteering to try it out, with your flat white girl ass?"

"Like you'd let me start taking on Johns."

I shrugged. "You're right about that. It would kind of let you off easy. Business is business and we need a girl who blocks out the sun when she bends over. Lisa is on her way, but a little boost would certainly help profits."

After breakfast I brought Lisa down stairs.
Lisa, 23, 5'2, 188, 32-28-44

Lisa eased down the stairs in just her thong. She had outgrown all her pants and skirts. The thong was hanging on by a thread. I think she just liked going topless since Mistress had kept her diet to minimize and expansion above the waist.

She looked tentative when I attached her to the crane but by now she had heard the story from Chrissy and knew what to expect. "I'm already pretty fat. How much more do you want?"

"Why ruin the surprise by telling you," I winked.

I had three tanks set up. I know Mistress had a extreme pear in mind, but I didn't think it would hurt to give the girl C cup at least. She was darn near flat.

At her height Lisa's cheeks lost their round shape just over the 200 mark, right after her thong snapped. At 230 her hips shelved out. At 250 a thick ridge developed between her thighs and her hips. I diverted some fluid from the second tank and her thighs filled in to balance out her lower half. I cut back on the second tank just before 300 when her thighs melted over knees like mozzarella. Lisa's ass would never again fit through a normal width door. I looked at Mistress who shrugged and gave the signal to keep going.
At 350 Lisa's hips were wider across then she was tall and she was really going to have to reach to wash every nook and crevice in her lower half. I opened the valve for the third tank and pushed her just past a DD and then stopped with the scale reading 370.

Lisa was a sight with her face no fatter then when she had come in and her waist just a bit thicker from overflow of her hips. I helped her waddle to the freight elevator and then greased her hips to get her into her room so she could rest. She was too exhausted from the extended time on the tubes to even react other then to paw at her hip rolls before she drifted off to sleep.

When I got back downstairs Mistress had a huge grin on her face. "You think you're clever, but you still got another Goal to worry about," I warned, holding up the gloves and pointing to the crane.
Mistress winked coyly. "The way you feed me there's no need for you to put me in that thing." she stepped on the scale and let the numbers rest on 288.

"Good piggy," I winked. I made a mental note to adjust the amount of calories going to her tits. That belly was starting to outpace them and I had a goal in mind of PP cups flopping around just above her thighs.

***

By six months along Stacy Jo had become a planet. Or at the very least an asteroid. She was a pet project of mine and of course carrying my soon-to-be child so I spoiled her above and beyond the other girls. I brought her anything her heart desired which was mostly food.

Mistress seemed to sense I was playing favorites and must have got jealous because Stacy became her pet project in an entirely different way. As a result Stacy gained 80 pounds in her first two trimesters and every last ounce went to her belly and hips. That belly was a low hanging, drum-tight beach ball while her hips had lumps of lard jiggling atop pockets of cellulite.

Once her belly had popped Stacy was booked almost constantly. I turned people away to allow her a day of rest a week. The sessions were mostly role play. Guys wanted Stacy to be their barefoot and pregnant wife cooking up their meal while wearing nothing but a snug apron. The sessions would usual end with the guy blowing his wad on Stacy's epic belly. For these types of guys it was better then being in her., even though the talk was always how after she delivered they were going to knock her up with twins so she could get even rounder.

Stacy took it all in stride. We secretly made arrangements to give the baby up for adoption since she wanted no part of motherhood and I was grounded enough to know this was no place for a kid. I figured as heavy as Stacy was getting she had a couple months tops before she spent the rest of her pregnancy on bed rest. My thought originally had been to just keep fertile young Stacy knocked up. It would be easy to have it accidentally happen. Even as all her Johns wanted to paint her bulging middle I was slapping my balls on its underside as I rammed her almost weekly. It was too hard to resist. Her belly so round and firm while her ass was so soft and flabby. The swollen pregnant pear was such a stark contrast to Mistress's top heavy form even if I had not a ulterior motive I would have been doing it.

Thing was there would a lag in when we could not be collecting any of that prime, specialty money as Stacy recovered from delivery and then swelled up to peak form again.

Time to find another potential baby mamma.

I paid a visit to my prime potbellied pig Chrissy. By this time Chrissy was over 270 and had developed a wide fat gut that was slightly ahead of her other fattened parts. As Mistress and I had focused on the other girls we had lost focus of Chrissy and let her fat develop where it wanted to and it wanted to develop her into kind of a potato shape. She was not the most popular girl at the brothel and she knew it. Which made her easy pickings for a few well placed compliments. Or so I hoped.

"Looking sexy as always, Chrissy," I commented when I walked into her room and found her binging on Cheetos on her bed in front of the TV.

"I would hope you would think so. You're the one whose turned my into a junk food addicted hog," she snipped.

"Everyone has their slow periods. Things will pick up for you." I stroked her calf.

She did not smile, but she did not pull away. "I'm a 300 pound whale who can't see my feet that I'm guessing are fat like the rest of me. My tits are small, chubby triangles and my belly has three roles when I stand up. It's no wonder I haven't had a John in four days."

I sat down and ran my fingers around her deep belly button. "Well if your schedule's open…"
She batted my hand away. "Mistress would have my head on a platter and deep fry it if she knew you were even in here."

"Mistress's tits are anchored to the basement. It's her turn to milk Becca." When she did not respond I returned my hand to her belly.

"You really think I'm sexy?"

Five minutes later I was liking Cheeto dust off her two extra chins while she worked to lift her belly flap up enough for me to get in. Chrissy was really our of shape, panting and sweating less then five minutes in even though she was on the bottom with most of her movements being her flab quivering with each stroke. The second time I at least made her stand while I bent her over one of her chairs. You would have thought I made her jog up eight flights of stairs the way she panted afterward. Imaging how big and lazy she would be eight months pregnant got me hard enough to plow her a third time just to be sure.

Three weeks later a bloated and somewhat glowing Chrissy pulled me aside nervously and I knew before she opened her chubby lips mission had been accomplished. I made her a triple decker Pop Tart and peanut butter sandwich and told her to keep quiet about who the father was.

Things were going almost perfectly at that point. I should have know it wouldn't last.