Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 "I'll do anything," she whimpered, begging Lloyd not to leave her.

   "Where have I heard that before?" he sneered and kept packing.

   "Anything, please, I love you," she pleaded, "I'm your wife."

   "Well, I don't love you, you fat, ugly bitch!" he screamed, "the woman I
married was beautiful and sexy and intelligent and you killed her!  You
drowned her someplace under all your layers of fat.  Now get out of my
way,you sow!"



   A week later she sat in the kitchen, depressed, heartbroken and ten
pounds heavier.  She hadn't heard from Lloyd unless you counted him having
divorce papers served on her.  She had just started a pint of Ben & Jerry's
when he let himself in.  She wanted to throw her arms around him but fixed
her with a stare of disgust that froze her.  She put down the ice cream and
he silently grabbed her hair, dragged her into the bathroom and stood her
on the scale.  It groaned under her weight before it stopped at 278 pounds.

   "Gee, dear, what's the ideal weight for a five foot seven woman?" he
asked, his voice dripping acid.

   She just whimpered in response.  Had he come back just to make her feel
even worse?  He ripped her housedress off and spun her around to face the
full-length mirror.  She turned away but he seized her hair and forced her
to look.

   "And you've got the nerve to complain I don't make love to you anymore!"
he spat.

   She collapsed on the floor and cried.

   "Now, you said you'd do anything," he said in a more soothing voice,
"did you mean it?"

   "Yes, YES!"

   "All right.  I've found a place, it's like a boot camp for people like
you.  They'll work with you as long as you need it, will you go?"

   "Yes!  I'll go!  I'll make myself just like when we got married!" she
promised.

   "Good.  Wash up, get dressed.  I'll wait for you in the living room," he
said.

   She happily showered and put on her 3X sweatpants and sweatshirt,
groaning as she bent to tie her shoes, barely able to reach them.  Lloyd
had some papers ready for her when she came out.

   "I've already paid," he explained, "but you have to sign the contract
too."

   "Okay," she said, taking the pen from him and quickly scribbling her
signature on both copies.

   "Come on," he said, "you don't need to pack, they've got everything you
need there."

   "I don't bring anything?" she asked.  That seemed odd.

   "Part of the therapy is getting you totally out of your former
environment," he explained.  She nodded.  That seemed to make sense.

   "Okay, let's go," Lloyd said.

   "Now?"

   "Yes, now," he said impatiently.

   They hardly spoke at all during the drive there.  They left the city
quickly and were soon in the country.  Louise looked out the window taking
in the beauty of farms laid out like squares on a checkerboard and the
trees just turning green.  Spring has sprung, she mused, time for new
beginnings.  She promised herself over and over to work hard and make it
really work this time.  Eventually they left farm country for more forested
land.  They went form the state road to a two-lane county road and then
turned onto a dirt track.  After a mile they arrived at a gate with a big
sign above it emblazoned "The FAT FARM."

   Lloyd honked the horn and a tall, rather chunky woman came down the
driveway and opened the gate.  Lloyd got out and Louise followed suit.

   "Louise?  I'm Cat.  I can see we have our work cut out for us," she
said, "come with me."

   "Go ahead, honey," Lloyd encouraged her, giving her a peck on the cheek.

   She followed Cat up the driveway and after they went around a curve she
saw a great big old farmhouse more than two hundred yards away -- all
uphill.  Soon she was short of breath and stopped to lean against a tree
but Cat wouldn't let her.

   "Come on, everybody's waiting for you," she insisted.

   As they approached the house more women came out, all of them
overweight, but none anywhere near as fat as Louise.  A couple were wearing
maid's uniforms, most were in work pants and shirts.  Two of them, one
black and the other Asian -- both actually skinny, were in crisp blue
uniforms like security guards complete with batons and stun guns.  As she
and Cat approached the whole group started yelling and jeering at her.

   "MOOOoooo!" "PIG" "Oink!  Oink!  Oink!" "Fatso!" "Come here, hurry it
up, you slut!" "Those boobs look like salamis in a butcher shop window!"
and worse.

   She turned away.  She wanted to run, as impossible as that was for her.
"Keep going," Cat said.

   As the yelling died down the two guards stepped forward and took charge
of her and brought her up to the porch.  One of them showed her a small
device, told her it was a stun gun and warned to cooperate or suffer the
consequences.  The other produced a pair of scissors and cut her clothing
off her, leaving her standing naked before all these strangers.  They
descended on her, groping and pinching, telling her how fat and ugly each
part of her body was.  One lifted up her hanging belly "to see if anything
was living under there".  Others hefted her boobs and debated whether they
weighed fifteen or twenty, maybe even twenty-five pounds each.  Someone
spread her mountainous ass cheeks apart and asked how she ever managed to
wipe herself.

   "This pig weighs two hundred and seventy-eight pounds!" the Asian guard
announced, "TWICE what she should!  Now it's up to us to help her."

   Two women stepped forward and placed leather cuffs on her wrists and
fastened them together and attached a cable.  "Please step over the
railing," one of them told her.  The porch railing -- a four by four -- was
above her waist height, way too high for her to climb over.  Someone moved
a chair over for her to step up on and she saw the cable had been threaded
through a pulley above her.  Suddenly she realized what was about to
happen.

   "NO!!" she screamed, twisting to try to get away but they stunned and
her semi-conscious body was hoisted up by her fellow inmates.  She dangled
above the railing for a moment and two of them tied her ankles together
with a short rope so that as she was lowered her feet were pushed up behind
her ass so that all her weight would be pushing her cunt down onto the
shape corner of the railing.  She screamed as the sharp wooden corner bit
into her privates.

   "Oh, shut up, it wouldn't hurt so much if you weren't so fucking fat."
the black guard snapped, "Now for a little motivational training."

   She raised a long leather strap and whipped Louisa with it for all she
was worth.  She screamed and writhed and wished she was dead but it went on
and on for ages.  Finally it stopped and everyone went back to their
business leaving her alone in agony.  At sunset she was taken down and
brought to corral fenced in with barbed wire.

   "Here you go, sow, into the sty with the other piggies," the guard
snapped.

   There were six or seven other women there already.  She tried asking
them what the kind of place this was but none of them answered --
apparently silence was the rule here.  She looked around the sty.  At one
end was a water trough and at the other was a plastic bucket, the toilet.
She lay down on the hard ground, shivering as the chill wind blew over her
and finally got to sleep.  At sunrise she and the other sows were awakened
and given a liter of some kind of health drink.  Then they were put to
work. They were taken to the woods where other women were just beginning to
chop trees and cut them into logs.  She and the others hoisted the logs
onto wooden wagons the, yoked together in pairs, hauled them to behind the
barn.  The yoke was especially cruel.  It consisted of boards placed above
and below the slaves' tits then tightened together and roped to the wagon.
Louisa knew it was impossible but she managed to do it, encouraged by the
supervisors' whips.  They didn't stop when it started to rain and when they
were returned to the sty at sunset she was only too happy to collapse into
the mud and fall asleep.  This became her life, day after day, always
exhausted to the point of dropping dead, no one speaking to her except to
give orders or berate her and living exposed to the elements i all
weathers. Worst of all was the hunger.  They didn't give her a single
morsel of food, just the health drink every day.  She felt as if her
stomach was being scraped with metal from the inside.  But she was losing,
she knew, and she could feel muscles growing where there hadn't been any in
years.

   The farm's class system soon became apparent.  The "sows" -- the
disgustingly fat cases like her were kept in the sty and did the heaviest
labor.  The "cows" -- obese but not horribly -- were kept in the barn and
allowed clothing -- bib overalls.  They split the wood, worked in the
garden and built the cabins that were going up.  She didn't get to see much
of the women who worked in the house, but they seemed to be the ones who
were getting close to their ideal.  And at the top, ruling over them all
were the skinnies who had shed all their excess baggage.

   A couple times a week she or one of the other sows were brought to the
house for the amusement to the skinnies or the men who visited.  The first
time she was chosen it was a hot, unbearably muggy night.  A woman hooked a
leash to her collar and told to come along.  When she forgot her place and
stood up she was smacked with a paddle.

   "On all four, piggie, only humans walk erect," she was told.

   She was led to where the staff were having a barbecue in the back yard
and the delicious aroma of grilled hot dogs, hamburgers and ribs tormented
her.

   "Hungry, fatso?  Here," the man at the grill said, tossing a drumstick
on the ground in front of her.  Instantly she pounced on it, taking a huge
bite, savoring the fatty flavor of the skin -- her favorite part.

   "You fucking animal!" the man yelled.  He grabbed a lash and went to
work on her.

   "You PIG, you disGUSTing, filthy slob!  Haven't you learned anything?"
he screamed at her as he wielded the whip, "you WANT to be fat, don't you?
DON'T YOU?  I don't know why your poor husband even sent you here!  You're
fucking HOPEless!!"

   She lay on the ground and whimpered, not just from the pain but because
he was right, absolutely right, she was disgusting.  She promised herself
to learn from her chastisement.  Maybe knowing she'd be punished would give
her a little willpower.

   "You want a bone like a little doggie?" he asked, "Let's see how you
like playing fetch!"

   For the next couple hours, while everybody else sat at the picnic
tables, enjoying their repast she had to keep chasing sticks and balls that
they threw farther an farther away.  Several times she collapsed from
exhaustion but got back up, encouraged by whips, straps and paddles.  They
gave her some water in a dog dish after she sat up and begged for it. 
Finally they let her go back home to her sty.

   Two nights later she was chosen again but told that this time she going
to be shown some tenderness.  Before she was allowed to enter the house her
keeper sprayed her down with the garden hose and tossed her a bar of soap.
She gratefully scrubbed the layers of mud and sweat from her body.  It took
four wash and rinse cycles before she was judged fit for human company. 
She was so grateful to be clean again she didn't even worry about what was
coming next.  She was brought to the cellar where a tall redheaded man was
waiting for her in a miniature torture chamber.  She glanced around in
horror at all the instruments hanging from the walls.

   "Don't worry, my dear, inflicting pain isn't my thing," he consoled her,
"my perversion is bestiality . . .  I'm into fucking hogs like you."

   He laid her down on a leather-topped table but then ordered her to stand
up and put her hands on her head.  "Well, we can't have those salamis
flopping like that," he mused to himself.

   Taking a rope he wrapped it around and around and around each huge boob,
then when they were almost completely bound he tied them together.  For
good measure he took a short metal bar with a clamp on each end to hold her
nipples together.  For someone who ins't into inflicting pain he's sure
doing a helluva job, she thought but she suffered in silence.  Putting her
back on the table with her ass half hanging off the end he tied her elbows
and wrists to her knees and ankles.

   "Lovely!  Just like a Thanksgiving turkey," he said, stepping back to
admire his work.  Taking out a camera he snapped picture after picture of
her to preserve the moment.  She was horrified when he said what a lovely
addition the photos would make to his website.

   Finally he stood between he legs and took it out but in her position she
couldn't see it.  She hoped it wasn't too big because her vagina was often
painfully tight, making sex painful.  Maybe that was a reason she'd let
herself go, so Lloyd would want her so often?  she wondered.  She was taken
aback when he grasped he huge buttocks in his hands and spread them wide
and pressed his member against her asshole.  She bit down on a scream and
he grunted, in pain himself, as he worked it into her dry, tight butt.  By
the time he got it all in tears of agony were streaming down her face.  He
went on and on, and she wished she were dead rather than endure it another
moment.

   "I jerked off three times before we started," he informed her, reading
her mind, "after all, you deserve more than a wham-bam, thank-you-ma'am!"

   When he finished he had one last humiliation in store for her.  He
scooped his jizz out of her asshole and made her lick it off his fingers.



   She got one day off a week, which she dreaded.  It was not a day of
rest, it was weigh-in day.  The sows were thoroughly whipped before they
even got on the scale.  After being weighed they were brought to the porch
and had to ride the railing.  The cows weren't whipped but they wound up on
the railing as well.  The porch was decorated with moaning, tortured women
until the sun went down.  The only ones to escape were the chunky house
servants -- unless they had regained.  After four or five weigh-ins (she
lost track) she achieved what had become her life's ambition -- she was
promoted to the ranks of the cows.

   "When Louisa came to us, she weighed 278 pounds, 143 over her ideal,"
the guard announced, bringing her up on the porch, "now, after working our
program she weighs 202 -- a loss of 76 pounds!"

   Everyone applauded enthusiastically until the guard held her hand up for
silence.

   "Congratulations, Louisa!" she said, apparently sincerely, "you've lost
more than half of your excess weight.  You have the rest of the day off and
starting tonight you sleep in the barn."

   They gave her permission to bathe so the first thing she did with her
day off was find the garden hose.  A new guard, a gorgeous blonde, noticed
her efforts and brought her a cake of soap.

   "Thanks," Louisa said.

   "Congratulations, by the way," the guard said, "I remember when I
graduated from sows to cows."

   "When you WHAT?" Louisa asked.

   "You didn't know?" the blonde replied, "everybody here started out as a
. . .  client.  Just like the bald men's club.  I weighed three-fifty when
I got here."

   "You?!" Louisa exclaimed, "but you're gorgeous!"

   "And you will be too," the guard assured her, taking the soap and
scrubbing her back for her, "just keep at it and you'll be living in the
house in no time."

   That evening she gloried in the luxury of having her own stall in the
barn.  The straw was prickly as she lay down on it but she didn't mind. 
Some things didn't change -- it was still up at sunrise for a breakfast of
sports drink.  She was issued a pair of boots and bib overalls.  She almost
cried when she saw them -- as Lloyd used to say about her clothes they
looked like they came from a parachute factory.  She and three of the other
slaves were sent to work spading and weeding the garden.

   She cried as she worked, unable to quit thinking about Lloyd.  They had
kept her so busy and exhausted that she hadn't even thought of him in
weeks. Now she worried that he would never come back for her.  She wished
she could show him how much she had already lost.  She hoped he'd be proud
of her but he probably didn't even remember her.  Maybe some other hussy
had snagged him while she was here and they were having a grand old time.
Thinking back to when they were first together she remembered how they used
to make love three, four or five times a day -- the record was eight times
in twenty-four hours.  They never missed a day unless one was sick until
they'd been married three years.  Her pussy moistened as she recalled all
the things they'd done and how much she'd loved them all.  Why had she ever
let herself go?  She didn't know but she'd win him back, she decided.  When
they returned to the barn at sundown she was surprised when they were
served a cup of broth, a small bowl of salad and a pear [!] for dessert.

   Working closer to the house, she saw a lot of cars coming and going --
most of them stayed parked overnight, some for several days in a row.  She
was curious but didn't ask about it until she noticed Lloyd's car in the
lot for a weekend.  She begged her supervisor to see him but she just
looked at her like she was crazy.

   "Hey, I don't know any Lloyd and I don't know whose car is whose," she
said, "but I DO know I'll whip your fat ass unless you get back to work!"

   Louisa obeyed but still wanted to know what her husband (or at least his
car) was doing here.  That night one of the other slaves explained it to
her.  Once you got promoted to living in the house you had not just regular
chores but you were a sex slave as well.  All the female graduates and all
the guys who had paid to send their women to the farm were free to "use the
facilities" whenever they wanted.  The whole place ran on the men's money
and the women's labor, including the graduates serving as guards and
supervisors.  The thought of her husband cavorting with all those chunky
sluts infuriated her but also made her determined to lose the rest of her
fat.

   In fact it only took five weeks before she was admitted to the house. 
She stepped on the scale, nervous as hell, hoping that this would be the
day.  It was.

   "One hundred and sixty-seven pounds!" the cute blonde guard announced,
"Louisa started at 278, 143 pounds over her ideal.  But now she has lost
101 pounds -- she's gotten rid of 75% of her excess weight.  Welcome to the
house, Louisa!"

   She joined the guards and supervisors and other chubbies up on the porch
and they all embraced her, showering her congratulations and attagirls. 
The black guard who had been so cruel to her the first day whispered in her
ear, "I knew you could do it!"

   She was brought inside and told her to go upstairs and take a real hot a
bath.  "As long as you want!" someone said.  She didn't have to be told
twice.  She showered quickly to get clean then sat and luxuriated in a
steaming bubble bath until it turned cold.  She'd made it into the house!
She hadn't felt this proud since she graduated college.  When she finally
got out she looked in the mirror, something she hadn't done since Lloyd
forced her to look at herself the day he brought her here.  She liked what
she saw.  She still had a gut but at least it didn't hang down to her
privates anymore; her boobs were still droopy but nowhere near the hanging
salamis she'd arrived with.  There was still fat on her hips but her legs
were looking good and her ass was way down.

   There was a knock at the door and a voice called, "If you're ready,
let's get you dressed."

   She went out and a svelte redhead was waiting for her, one who'd been
her supervisor on a lot of chores.  She led her to a room stocked with
everything she and helped her choose.

   "I'm Krista, by the way," she said, handing her some a pair of panties,
"try these on."

   They were a little snug, but they fit.  She wasn't embarrassed at all as
Krista measure her for a bra -- an E cup, but she'd always been at least a
D.  "Queen-sized" panties, of course -- she'd always hated that word.  She
definitely didn't want slacks so she searched for a blouse and skirt but
Krista came up with a nice sun dress for her.

   They went downstairs to the living room and she was introduced to the
group of skinnies waiting there for her.  She sat down nervously, knowing
she'd never keep all the names straight.  Krista asked if she'd like some
coffee and she said yes -- she hadn't had a cup since she'd gotten here.  A
house slave in a maid's uniform entered and set down a tray and poured her
a cup.  She started to reach for the cream pitcher but stopped herself.

   "I guess I'll just take it black," she said, drawing smiles from her
hosts.

   "Good choice," said Shireen, the black guard, "you're probably wondering
what comes next so here's the deal.

   "When you got here we had to totally break you down if you were going to
have any chance of success.  You probably hated our guts for calling you
`pig' and `cow', for punishing you, for treating you like an animal."

   Louisa nodded agreement but said nothing.

   "But now it's time for you to be a human -- to be a woman again, that's
why you're now allowed to sleep on a mattress and bathe every day and use
makeup and look your best," Shireen went on, "BUT you're still a slave and
we'll work you hard.  You'll exercise every day and we have mandatory
nutrition and cooking classes.

   "But we also have to get you ready for the real world where there won't
be anyone watching you.  So here you can eat whatever you want, no one will
stop you.  Now's the time to go from us disciplining you to you
disciplining yourself.  If you fuck up and put pounds back on it's back to
the sty with you and you stay there until you get all the way down."

   Louisa thought about that one.  Delicious odors were wafting into the
living room from the kitchen and she wondered if she'd have the strength
not to take a little taste when she was cooking, or go back for seconds at
meals.

   "I understand, I won't let you down," she replied sincerely, "Uh, I
heard a rumor that . . .  we've got other duties working in the house
here."

   "Really?" Krista smirked, "What did you hear?"

   "That . . .  we're sex slaves for all the men who enroll their women in
here," she stammered, looking at the floor, "and, um, for you guys, too,
all the graduates."

   "That's right," chimed in Ahiko, the petite Japanese girl, "think of it
as a combination bed and breakfast and brothel."

   "We should explain," said Shyla, the black guard, "it all started with
the Good Girls' Club.  The Club was started more than twenty years ago in
another house in the country.  Its goal was to teach women who wanted to
explore their sexuality, to learn how to totally please a man -- or a
woman, to submit to all their deepest desires.

   "They rejected fat women, or even women who were too plain-looking.  But
twelve years ago they decided to open a facility to help their obese and
ugly sisters.  So this place was opened.  You've made excellent progress so
far, so don't blow it."

   Louisa kept nodding agreement and thought of the day when she could be
one of the skinnies, in charge of new women brought to undergo the same
transformation that she had.

   "And now," Krista announced, "it's time to begin your new training."

   She took Louisa's hand and led her back upstairs to a small bedroom. 
She knew what was expected of her and she hated it.  The idea of touching
another woman, of kissing a tuna-reeking pussy repulsed her but she
resolved to do her best.  She undressed Krista, revealing her beautiful,
trim body and began to explore it -- kissing, licking, massaging, probing
every nook and cranny.  Finally she buried her face in Krista's pussy and
licked and sucked her mistress until she came over and over, making Louisa
want to puke s her face was soaked with pussy juice.

   "You hated that didn't you?" Krista asked.

   "Yes," she admitted meekly.

   "Don't worry, honey, you'll learn."

   And she did learn.  Over the next weeks her sexuality came alive again
as she learned positions she never dreamed of, how enjoy sucking cock and
being buggered.  She became an expert at cunnilingus even though she didn't
like doing it -- but she loved having it done to her!  Her education was
helped along by the fact that ever act she performed was rated on a scale
of one to ten and she got a stroke with the lash or paddle for each number
she fell short of perfection.

   Finally, at long, long last she made it into the ranks of the skinnies.
That night Lloyd came to her.  She threw herself at his feet and wrapped
her arms around his legs.

   "I love you, Master, I love you!" she proclaimed, "Please, please
forgive me!  I'll never fail you again.  Please, just let me make it up to
you, let me be your perfect slave for the rest of my life . . .  I love you
SO much!"

   He pulled her to her feet and put his finger to her lips.  Silently he
slid her robe off her shoulders and beheld her gorgeous new body.

   "There's the woman I married," he said.

   That night they did did everything and she strived to make it the best
sex Lloyd ever had.  As she finally fell asleep she thought how lucky she
was to have such a wonderful man.