It'd been unlocked in her childhood. Growing up in Buenos Aires. Raised in a mysterious little German enclave that had popped up in the mid-40's, she'd come from a long line of German men who'd fallen for the local women, each of them curvaceous, plump, and nurturing. Bred to breed, so susceptible to pregnancy you'd swear a mere kiss could leave them with child.
The locals knew why her great grandfather had arrived there. They knew why the second largest Oktoberfest celebration in the world took place in South America, of all places. But if you scratched their backs, they'd scratch yours. And Heinrich Ablehr had many ways of doing so. Flush with gold, and with years of medical expertise from the motherland, he quickly found ways to be very useful to the community. And in turn they shielded him from the various external forces interested in his past. He managed to evade capture and set up roots in Argentina, dying in his sleep in the mid-60's.
Many of his children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren followed in his footsteps and became physicians. Norma was no different in that regard. For much of her life she dealt with the persistent needling from her mother as to why she'd never found a husband. It seemed she had no interest in men, only other females, which she'd often foster very intense friendships with. And each of these friendships carried a similar thread...
One such girl was from their village, named Carmen. Like many locals, Carmen hadn't come from much money. But Norma had been smitten with her at first sight. She lured her in the way she did all the others: with food. She quickly discovered that Carmen loved to eat, and she developed a taste for the rich cuisine Norma and her family could provide for her.
Norma had made a habit of bringing girls by the house and her mother, Valentina, was always more than happy to spoil and cook for them. She'd also send them home with tons of leftovers, which they'd give to their families, who'd encourage them to do whatever they could to ensure the stream of extra food kept coming.
Carmen had seen the other girls who'd eaten at the Ablehr house, and watched them as they grew fatter and fatter with each visit, stuffed bellies hanging out of their shirts, fleshy arms loaded with food. It was well-known in the village that if you caught Norma's eye, you'd best make the most out of the opportunity. But she knew all the food wasn't gonna come free. There was a price.
"Would you like some more cake, Carmen?" Norma asked.
"Oooooh... I really don't think I could..." Carmen moaned.
She'd been eating at the Abelhr's house for two years, 20 years old and just over 300 pounds. Finding clothes her size in her village was quite the chore, and so she'd been stuffed into an ill-fitting t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that looked about ready to give up the ghost.
"Oh, nonsense! Of course, you could have more! Here..."
Valentina looked at Norma, her eyes narrow as she watched her daughter scoop up some tres leches cake and bring it to Carmen's lips. Norma had had more than a couple of drinks with dinner and was in rare form. Her mother had noticed the pattern. Using her cooking as a means to draw them in. The weight gain. The moaning coming from her locked bedroom late at night. Unmistakable sounds of groping, hot pleasure.
And she was none too pleased. She'd made all this food for her friends in good faith. Thinking she was merely being a good hostess. This... Bizarre sex ritual. Whatever it was. Was no good.
"What are you doing with this girl, Norma?" She asked in Spanish.
"What do you mean, mother?" Norma replied, not looking at her as Carmen reluctantly ate more.
Valentina looked at Carmen, who gulped nervously, so full she didn't want to move, but the mounting tension in the room suggesting she might have to.
Valentina switched to German. "I know what you do behind closed doors. When you bring them up to your room."
