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

Your bestowment of funnel-feeding duties causes Tina’s cheeks to go full chipmunk. "Really?"

"Really."

The beaming chubster springs from her chair and rushes for the door as if she'd just been told her 16th Birthday present were parked in the driveway.

"Don't push her too hard on the first day."

"Don't worry."  Tina's voice fades as she enters the hall.  "This isn't my first rodeo!"

You smile.  Although your reasons for allowing Tina to indulge in some funnel fun were many, she'd hit on the main one--

She was good at it.

Maybe too good.  Ten minutes into Tina's feeding session with Tabitha you turn off the monitor.   You don't have a stomach for the process yet...and if the way Tabitha was gagging on the incessant flow of goop from Tina's funnel was any indication, neither does she.  You will never believe that ignorance is bliss, but for now, you're willing to trust that the ends will justify the means.

So instead you take the time to reestablish your presence in town.  You need supplies anyway.  Not necessarily for the harem--most of those purchases are done online through backdoor channels--but you're down to your last few tanks of propane and are almost out of coffee.  (Tina, the former barista, drinks a ton.)  Your garden has also gone to shit.  Apparently, Tina's knack for growing things doesn't extend to flora.

"Where ya been, stranger?"

You're met with variations of the greeting at the hardware store, the supermarket, and even the post office.  While the folks in the sleepy nearby township weren't prone to be starstruck (one of the many reasons you decided to settle there), they certainly noticed you were gone.  It's a fact you find equal parts charming and alarming.

"Traveling abroad" is your pat answer.  It's the excuse Tina used for your unsolicited sabbatical and is acceptable enough.  You've always been a jet-setting globetrotter, so it isn't a stretch to think that would continue in retirement.  Fortunately, nobody mentions your pallor or weight loss.  The winter climate helps--your bulky coat hides much of your newfound frailty while most residents look as pale and peaked as you do.

Returning home, you meet Tina as she emerges from the basement wearing goggles, rubber gloves, and a heavy smock.

"How'd it go?"

"Better than I expected," Tina says, peeling away her gloves.  "She'll be sore for a while, but she came through with flying colors."

You nod and carry the groceries into the kitchen.   Tina hurries after you as she strips off the rest of her makeshift scrubs.

"Ooh, did you get coffee?"

                                                                              ***

Unlike Tabitha, you eventually develop a taste for Tina's feeding sessions.  Initially, you monitor them from your desk as you catch up on correspondence, but as the weeks go by you find yourself plopped in front of the monitor like it's must-see TV.  And while you still wince at Tina's drastic methods, you're fascinated by the process.  The way she pushes Tabitha to the edge of breaking, both literally and figuratively, before backing off and offering praise ("I'm proud of you, piggy."  "You are growing so fat for mama!").  It's almost artful.

Of course, the results are as titillating as the process is fascinating.  You'd think watching someone grow fatter would be akin to watching grass grow.  Not so.  Unlike grass, which isn't going to show immediate growth no matter how much fertilizer you dump on it at one time, Tina's feeding sessions with Tabitha are so lengthy and intense that visual growth is obvious.  During one session, a garish red splotch not only appears along Tabitha's side, blemishing her milky-white skin, but it spiders several inches, like a crack in a windshield, over the course of a few hours.

The transitions are so intense that you find yourself undoing your pants while watching the monitor like it was porn on your computer...an absurdity that makes you shake your head.  It's way past time for you to join the fun!

What do you do?