Shy Iris Ch. 08

Author's note to the editor: Please keep all formatting as it is. The italic, bolding, and capitalizations are essential to get the full effect.

"Gather 'round boys, the bidding is almost up!"

Chubbs and Roddy, a pair of army dropouts, huddled together behind the small, sickly, frame of their boss, Darryl. He was seated in front of a desktop computer, the glow from the monitor illuminating the three men in the darkness of the abandoned duplex which served as their hideout.

Iris was alone in a windowless, locked, room. The room was spacious and well furbished; far from a prison cell. And yet, Iris felt trapped like a rat. No, not a rat, the big bottomed girl thought to herself. A cow. I'm just cattle now. And they've got me set up in a nice little pen, to eat and fuck and BREED to my heart's content. The small part of her brain that was thrilled with that idea grew louder, and more dominant, with each passing moment.

* * * * *

Iris' had awoken in the room on the first day, still slightly sex-drunk, and yet fully aware of what had happened to her the day before. The bed was large and comfortable. "For all the breeding that's going to happen there" she realized, shuddering. Were they really planning to get her pregnant?!? To fatten her up even more?!? Iris rose from the mattress and faced herself in the mirror which made up the far wall. Three short, uniform black lines were etched parallel to each other far up on her fat left tit. She choked down a sob.

Each line represented an unwilling creampie, an attempt at impregnation. And unfortunately for Iris, the bastards had left plenty of room for more.

Iris caught the reflection of a door and wheeled towards it as quickly as her growing curves would allow. The cellulite pockmarked side of her wine barrel wide, pale, blubbery backside slid across the cool glass of the mirror as she spun. The poor girl yanked on the handle of the door; but the heavy wooden structure refused to budge. She thought about pounding on the damned thing, screaming for help or salvation, but she knew two things. One, her words would fall on deaf ears. And two, she needed to conserve her energy for the days, if not weeks in front of her. Or nine months, that demonic little voice inside her head whispered, excitedly.

Next to the door was a light switch, and Iris flicked it on. Her smooth, pale, skin was soon illuminated by bright lights from overhead. Iris studied the room that was going to become her new home.

There was of course the bed and the mirror. A padded chair and a medium sized desk in the corner, on the same wall as the mirror. On the desk was a small metal square that Iris realized was something like a walkie-talkie, except bolted to the table. She guessed Darryl and his cronies would eventually bark instructions at her through the damned thing.

On one side of the bed was a tall, well crafted armoire. Iris flung open one of the doors to reveal thousands of dollars worth of clothing. She reeled, slightly awed by the sheer amount of clothing within the armoire. But as she looked closer, the big bottomed girls heart dropped again. There were no underwear, naturally. And nearly everything was a matching outfit, with levels of depravity ranging from French maid to full gimp suit. At first Iris thought that nothing would have fit her; everything contained within the wardrobe was far too large for the average sized girl but would be easily several sizes too small for her massive rump and gigantic tits. Curious, Iris tugged at a pair of charcoal gray pants which looked like they belonged to a businesswoman's frumpy suit. The material was soft and pliable, and stretched easily within her fingers. These clothes would be tight, but Iris realized they would fit her thanks to their built-in stretchiness. But how had these men found these clothes for her so fast? Surely, they hadn't had time to purchase an entire wardrobe for in the time she was passed out? It dawned on Iris moments later.

They were maternity clothes, and many of them had probably been worn before.

Iris flopped on the bed in despair, the sturdy bedframe not even budging under her considerable girth. She took several deep, gasping, breaths; her great, wobbling, ass pointed up in the air and jiggling violently with every inhale and exhale. A whirring to the side of the bed caught her attention, and Iris crawled across the king-sized mattress, her fat, hanging tits dragging across the soft fabric as she did so. Set into the wall on the opposite side of the bed from the wardrobe was a humming refrigerator.

Iris, so used to downing thousands of calories a day in cum and protein, was downright ravenous. She swung open the door of the fridge to see what was inside, hoping for something, anything, that would sate her thirst and hunger. The big bottomed girl practically drooled as she was greeted with the sight of dozens of cupcakes, a lifetime's supply of high-calorie protein-bars, several bottles of chocolate syrup, and several gallons worth of the most fattening muscle milk money could buy. In the freezer was more ice cream and frozen yogurt than she could ever eat, all with little plastic spoons attached. Iris chose a chocolate cupcake and a bottle of vanilla muscle milk for her breakfast. She absently chewed on the delicious morsel as she stood and explored more of her new home.

Next to the door, behind the wall the fridge was set into, was a clean and sterile bathroom. The shower was stocked with all manner of soaps, shampoos, and sweet smelling body oils. Iris couldn't wait to feel the warm water cascading over her curvy frame. There was of course a toilet and sink, the sink had a toothbrush and toothpaste. Deodorants and perfumes. A razor, to keep herself nicely trimmed. There was another mirror over the sink, and Iris caught a glimpse of herself with a mouthful of fattening chocolate cake. Feeling a weird sense of guilt at her gluttony, Iris wanted to turn and toss the food into the trash can beside the toilet, but her ever growing belly gave a hearty rumble and she scarfed down the last few bites; all while avoiding her own eyes in the mirror. Iris tossed the wrapper into the trash, and guzzled down the milkshake in big, thirsty, gulps, her heavy chest heaving as she did so. Finally, she tossed the drained milk bottle into the trash as well.

Iris' paunchy belly did feel somewhat full after her small meal. Tasty, she thought, but not very nutritious. She knew that her captors didn't really care about nutrition. They just wanted to fatten her up even more. Eating for two, perhaps?

Iris shook her head and took a deep breath. There was a medicine cabinet set into the wall beside the bathroom mirror. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found a bottle of Tylenol inside. There was also a bottle of multi-vitamins, and a jar of ointment. Iris took the ointment and rubbed it into the three new tattooed lines on her pale tit-flesh. She took a multi-vitamin and a Tylenol, and retrieved another milkshake from the fridge. Iris opened it and swallowed the pills, and, still not quite feeling full, dusted off the bottle. When she walked back into the bathroom to throw away the second bottle, something on the floor caught her eye.

A digital scale.

Her entire jiggling body trembling, Iris stepped onto the scale. She watched as the bright red numbers whirled and calculated on the screen. One-hundred and ninety-eight point two pounds. She breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't quite at two hundred yet. But then she remembered that a day earlier, she had only weighed one-hundred ninety seven point seven. She shuddered.

Iris exited the bathroom and plopped down on the bed. She looked around again. No television. No laptop. Not even a notebook and some pencils. Bored, she stood and began rummaging through the armoire, looking for something to wear. She finally settled on a pair of seafoam green leggings and a pink sports bra, which she guessed were supposed to be some kind of "sporty girl" outfit. The spandex leggings stretched tight across Iris' massive ass, and every inch of her giant white rump was plainly visible through the harshly stretched fabric, including her COW tattoo. The pink sports bra did little to contain or hold up her heavy udders, and her nipples were plainly visible through the taut material. She plopped down on the bed again.

Now what am I supposed to do?

As if in answer to her question, the door of the room swung open. Iris' flashed her baby blues to the opening as quickly as she could, but all she could see was another door. That made sense, she knew. If she ever did manage to escape or slip past one of her captors, there was another door and hallway right outside that she would have to break through. She gulped, as Hoss' hulking black frame stepped into the room.

"Oh, cool, you found the wardrobe." Hoss stared at Iris, licking his lips. "Damn, you look good. I wish I got first crack at you, but someone else has paid quite a bit of money for that honor."

Iris glared at the man. "What do you want from me?"

Hoss grinned down at the poor girl. "Aw, come on, sweetie. We already discussed this. We're going to make that fat, mutant dumper of yours as big as we possibly can. We're going to make that belly sag, them thighs quake, and make them big ol' jugs of yours drag on the ground. And we're going to do that by fattening you up with all of your favorite foods and squirting a baby up inside you. We're going to film every second of this shit, and when it's all said and done, you, our prize heifer, are going to get sold off to the highest bidder."

Iris gaped at him. They'd said it all before, but had she really been listening? Her brain never quite worked right when dicks were involved. "You... you really think you'll get away with this?"

"You got a husband?"

"No!"

"Boyfriend?"

Iris sighed. "No."

"Fuck-buddy?"

Iris thought of Jack, but it had been months since he had reached out to her. "No..."

"And you're a grown woman with a COW tattoo on her ass and an insatiable lust for dick. I'm guessing if you went missing for a while most of your family would just assume it something to do with that."

Iris thought about it. Her mom, Opal, was the only family she had left. And she would definitely assume Iris was off on some wild sex adventure if she went missing. She might eventually go to the fraternity house looking for her, but by then Iris could already be pregnant. Hell, Iris might have been pregnant at that very moment!

"What... what's this about selling me when it's all over? To who?"

Hoss shrugged. "Daryl knows a lot more about that kind of thing than I do. Hell, there's probably guys trying to buy you from him right now."

Iris gaped. "There are guys who want to buy me?"

Hoss grinned. "An ass like that? I'm sure there is." His grin widened. "But when it's all over, if no one tries to buy you... well then... we'll just have to start all over... and make you even bigger!"

Iris shuddered.

"Why are you here?" Iris asked, finally, as Hoss continued to stand and stare at her.

"I'm supposed to go over some ground rules with you."

"Shouldn't Darryl be doing that?"

"Hey, this is his set-up, so he's busy working on a lot of things right now. Bringing your first client in, for example."

Iris didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean by client?"

Hoss sat on the bed next to Iris and placed a large, black hand on one of her expansive thighs. She wanted to recoil but was too terrified to move. "So these guys online are bidding on who gets to creampie you. The winner gets to choose your outfit, and then fuck your brains out. Make sense?"

"I'm...I'm not going to do that," Iris stammered. Her heart was racing.

Hoss dug his fingers into Iris' meaty thigh; not quite hard enough to bruise, but hard enough for her to know there was real power and menace behind his action. "Yes you will."

With one powerful motion Hoss flipped Iris onto her stomach across his knee. She struggled weakly against him, her gigantic rear wobbling and crashing against his muscular abs. With one hand, he jerked the hem of Iris' leggings down below her pale, massive, dimpled, ass cheeks. His free hand came crashing down on her backside.

Iris wailed in pain as Hoss smacked her big, quaking, rear with significant force. He brought his powerful hand crashing down continuously, with no rhyme or reason, leaving the big bottomed girl unable to prepare for the blows. Hoss paddled her ghostly white backside a violent shade of red, until her massive, wobbling, cheeks were radiating with heat. And still, he didn't stop. Instead, he switched hands, slapping his fresh hand against her cellulite riddled cheeks. Iris' face was stained with tears, her eyes red and bloodshot, her nose dripping with snot, her mouth open and drooling spit and slobber with every rasping sob.

"I wish you wouldn't have made me do that. This fat fucking dumper is a work of art and I hate to see it all beat up like that."

Iris heaved with a heavy sob.

"Don't worry sweetheart," Hoss cooed. "I'm going to make you feel better. You see, I might believe in corporal punishment. But Darryl believes that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. And, you're in luck, because this is his show."

Avoiding the most injured parts of Iris' pudgy rump, Hoss began to slide his fingers across her backside. Iris' bloodshot eyes popped open as she felt him dig one of his long, powerful fingers deep into her cavernous butt crack.

"Please..." she whispered. "Please stop."

Hoss gave her mutant rump a gentle swat, the weak blow still enough to send painful shockwaves through Iris' entire body. "Wow, you still have some fight left in you, I'm impressed." He gave her big rear another gentle swat, and Iris cried out. "But you should really give up. And besides, you and I both know that there's nothing in this world that you love more than having someone play with your stinking, gaping, shithole."

Iris cringed. Because of the humiliation; and because of the truth in his words.

Iris tried to relax and sit still as Hoss explored further into her deep ass crack. Finally, his finger found her puckered sphincter and the big bottomed girl flinched. Soon another finger was at the other side of her asshole, and Hoss was prying her big, mutant, butt cheeks apart. Hoss inhaled deeply, and for a brief second Iris was terrified that he was going to spit some air up her ass and force her to fart. Instead, he spat onto her puckered anus.

Iris fought the feeling of pleasure welling up inside her as Hoss spat onto her asshole again and again, lubing up her anus. Finally, he hooked a finger into her sphincter, and Iris had to fight the urge to clamp down and thrust her beaten ass backwards onto his digit.

"Oh, come on, you lard assed slut," Hoss teased her. "You know you want to."

Iris gritted her teeth. Sighing, she clenched her asshole around Hoss' long, wide, finger, and slid herself down until the entire length of the digit was buried inside her fat rump.

"Ooooooh, fuck!" Iris cooed. Despite the searing pain in her ass cheeks, nothing made her feel better than having her asshole stimulated.

Hoss twisted and wound his finger, bending it into a hook and scraping the inside of Iris' eager shitbox. The big bottomed girl squirmed beneath him, her red-hot bottom jiggling even more aggressively than when Hoss had been spanking it.

Iris dug her fingers into the bedspread and buried her tear streaked face into the blanket. "Don't stop," she moaned. "Please, don't stop!"

Hoss grinned as he spat on a second finger and slid it up Iris' rapidly loosening asshole alongside the first. The sex crazed brunette slammed her monstrously wide hips backwards, sodomizing herself on Hoss' fingers. He twisted them both into hooks and tickled her innards with a come-hither motion. Iris exploded with an orgasm, her juices soaking the bed.

Hoss extracted his fingers from Iris' asshole as he slid himself out from under her. Iris continued to lay on the bed, still lost in a haze. Her blubbery ass cheeks and pillowy breasts puddled on either side of her. Her gaping asshole was pointed to the ceiling.

"You liked that, didn't you? You're a fat fucking cow who likes getting her asshole fucked?"

Too lost to respond, Iris simply moaned.

Hoss chuckled. "Yeah, that's what we thought. That's why we got you a nice little present."

With no warning, Hoss pulled a thick butt-plug out of his sweatshirt and buried it to the hilt into Iris' loosened dumper.

Iris gasped, but she didn't have enough breath to cry out. And even if she had, the feeling wasn't altogether unpleasant. In fact... the fullness in her ass felt good. No, not just good. It felt right.

Iris started to sit up, ignoring the pain in her wide, well paddled, rear. She stared at Hoss as he lifted a small remote and pointed it at her. He clicked a button, and the plug buried deep inside her asshole whirred to life.

Iris' baby blues started to bulge as the head of the plastic butt-plug started to rotate. Little rubber tentacles snaked out of the head of sex toy, massaging Iris' insides as it spun deep inside of her.

"OHMYGOD!" Iris moaned as she came again, her thick thighs clenching tightly. Without thinking she buried her hands between her pale legs and started flicking her clit. She was exploding in another orgasm within seconds, her lily-white skin flushing nearly as red as her ass cheeks, and her breath escaping in short, gasping, breaths.

"Damn, bitch," Hoss flicked the machine off. "That was the lowest setting! I can't imagine what's going to happen when we turn it up!"

Gasping for breath, Iris rose on wobbly legs. She leaned against the fridge to catch her balance. "What... what is that thing?"

Hoss watched as Iris opened the fridge and chugged down a protein shake. He grinned at her. "You remember I said you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar? That's the honey." He informed her. "Your reward for playing along and being a good little girl." He watched as Iris drained the protein shake. She stared at the fridge for a moment, then opened it again and drained another shake as Hoss continued to stare at her.

"We were going to use that thing to train you. Or maybe break your brain if we had to. But it looks like someone already did."

* * * * *

Iris sat on her bed, letting Hoss' words play over and over in her mind. She finally rose to clean herself up, and the speaker fixed to the desk barked to life.

"Business suit. High heels. Light makeup. You have one hour."

Iris stared at the box. She thought about doing nothing. As if it could hear her thoughts, the radio boomed to life again.

"If you play along you will be well rewarded. If you do not you will be brutally punished."

Iris' head reeled. Punished. It was such a simple word, but the cold tone with which the voice had said it chilled her to the core. She was sure it wouldn't be a simple spanking this time. She shuddered. But what was that other word that had been mentioned. Reward. Honey or vinegar. She thought of the plug jammed up her rear end. Honey it is.

The butt plug gave a gentle whirl; someone, somewhere, reminding her that if she was a good little fuck doll she would be rewarded in the best way possible. Iris moaned, and climbed into the shower. She came twice before she was done cleaning herself up.

Sighing, knowing her time was growing short, Iris climbed out of the shower. She brushed her teeth, put on deodorant and body lotion, dried her hair and tied it up in a tight bun. Light blush and rouge, and minimal lipstick. Iris studied herself in the bathroom mirror. Aside from being naked and having a massive buttplug jammed up her asshole, she was starting to look the part of a proper businesswoman. Time for the clothing.