The Harem on the Hill (Part XXXVIII) (Patreon)

You resist "Little Debbie's" sizable charms for the time being and turn your attention to Anastasia, the next girl in your line-up of pet porkers.  Anastasia came into the fold just before Debbie, when you answered her personal ad, written in broken English, looking for a man to feed and care for her in exchange for being a "fateful" lover.  (You figured that was a typo.)

"She just wants to use you for a green card," Tina said when you showed her the ad.

You smiled slyly.  "Plans change."

Tina liked the idea of subverting some foreign hussy's American Dream by Shanghaiing her the minute she stepped off the plane.  Of course, you didn't look at it that way.  The way you saw it, you were providing the exact service she requested.

"Ten bucks says she looks nothing like her picture," Tina added, ogling the attached Glamour Shot.

"Deal.  But since you can't pay me in dollars--" You pinched a fat roll along Tina's side.  "You'll have to pay me in pounds."

Tina now has another roll to pinch.  

You expected Anastasia would look just like her picture, and upon arrival she most certainly did.  Nearly as tall as Tabitha, but without her corn-fed physique, Anastasia reminded you of an Ian Flemming villainess.  Impossibly long legs.  Delicately see-sawing hips.  Tapered waist.  Supple breasts.  All she needed was an evening gown and a casino and you could picture her trading barbs with James Bond.

She looks less like her picture now.  Today, you can more easily imagine Anastasia wolfing down dishes at a Las Vegas buffet than blowing a debonair spy's dice during a Monte Carlo craps game.

"Dobroye utro, comrade," you say.

"Eto unizitel'no," Anastasia responds.

"Sozhaleyu."  You look to Tina.  "Progress report?"

"168 pounds.  Starting weight 126."

“Prevoskhodno!”  You pat the paunch of Anastasia's abdomen, sending ripples through the protruding flesh.  “Prevoskhodno!”

Despite Anastasia's workmanlike eating efforts, overcoming her sinewy Slavic heritage has been a challenge.  Your American girls may have fought you more, but their physiques welcomed pounds like liberating armies, rounding and fattening in easy accommodation.  Not so with Anastasia.   Anastasia's body waged a desperate 'battle of the bulge' against the never-ending waves of calories, diverting them across her figure so they wouldn't overwhelm any one area and instead assimilate into the lean muscle they buffeted against.

Today's nude inspection, however, proves her defenses are beginning to fail.

Anastasia's chestnut eyes narrow.  "Mne nado pogovorit' s toboy."

"Nyet," you say.

Ironically, it's her pretty face where the gain is most obvious.  Blessed with doll-like eyes and the fullest, most kissable lips you've ever seen, the transformation of her face from oval to apple has blunted the impact of both and called attention to her relatively weak chin.  Despite only being 28, you're already seeing signs of her transition from babe to babushka.

You're about to move to the next girl when Anastasia cries, "Eto pro Tinu!"

Your lips tighten and your eyes dart to Tina, whose own eyes shift nervously between you and Anastasia.  Perhaps Anastasia has something worthwhile to tell you after all.

What do you do?