The Harem on the Hill (Part XXXVI) (Patreon)
Content
You decide to lay low for a while. Locating your harem adjacent to such a small city was a thoughtful decision; however, it means dealing with low crime rates and an overeager police department. Any infraction worse than jaywalking gets news coverage and, although many officers are as sleepy as the town itself, there are a few, like Officer Morgan, itching for any opportunity to prove their mettle.
Ironically, "laying low" means being more visible than usual. You travel to town almost every day, making sure each visit is captured for posterity on security cameras, through transactions at local shops (for innocuous goods), or by the occasional autograph seeker. Your one true haunt, however, remains Cornicupia, where your returns to the scene of the crime are greeted warmly by the owner, Paul, who even joins you for the occasional game of chess.
Happily, he replaced Marge, the gum-smacking diner dame who filled-in for Tina, with a pleasingly plump Latino teen named Ella. She's too young for your harem and you would never risk taking a second girl from the same location, but she's quick with a warm smile and a hot coffee cup. That alone would keep you coming back, but what really compels you is the way her apron digs into the baby fat along her sides. If Paul's pastries added pounds to a willowy waif like Tina, you can't wait to see what they'll do to Ella.
While you divert attention from your harem by being a well-respected man about town, Tina directs its day-to-day with ruthless efficiency. She provides you spreadsheets and progress reports that would shame many Fortune 500 companies while working overtime to add to her own bottom line. After gaining the ten pounds in a week you commanded (she gained 12 by consuming protein shakes every hour like clockwork), her ascent to 250 has slowed, but her impact on the other girls can't be understated.
You don't ask many questions. "Ignorance is bliss" may be a sucker's proverb, but "don't mess with success" is one you subscribe to. It goes deeper than that, however. Neither you nor Tina have said much to each other since the police incident. It isn't an awkward silence, per se, but a whiff of distrust still hangs in the air. That may be why Tina threw herself into her assumed role as the harem's ersatz "valide sultan" with such gusto. As long as affairs are in order and arrows pointing upwards, she suspects you're unlikely to probe what's going on beneath her well-padded surface. She isn't wrong. Why rock the slave boat?
"What do you want for your Birthday?" Tina asks you one afternoon. You don't recall ever mentioning your birthdate to Tina, but with all the PI work she did on you it doesn't surprise you that she knows. "Maybe I'll show you MY Birthday suit," she continues, twirling the nub of fabric leftover from the belt knotted around her waist. The oversized bathrobe allowed plenty of room for growth, but it was nearing capacity.
You force your fingers between the robe's tasseled tie and the fluffy cotton that (barely) covers her pot-belly, then pull her close. "Let me guess--extra-large?"
She giggles and gives you a quick kiss. "Extra, EXTRA!"
"Can I read all about it?"
"You can do more than that."
Tina kisses you again. Her body spreads against your torso like white chocolate melting in its wrapper. Soon, your manhood is peeking between the gap in her terrycloth curtain and probing the fleshy folds beneath.
Apparently, not all blood abandons your brain, however, because that's when an idea for your Birthday hits you--