Over the last month I took it upon myself to help a friend in need by plumping her up for her job. Every morning Shelley would come by my place where I would have a spread of donuts, bacon, sausage and other fried foods ready for her to gorge on. Then throughout the day we would hop from restaurant to restaurant, making sure to order the fattiest fare available. At first, Shelley understandably couldn't get through many meals in a day, usually tapping out by the time we had second lunch. So then we would go back to my place to digest, where I would make trips back and forth from the pantry to keep the living room table stocked with snacks and to go orders to keep her topped off. After all, every minute not snacking is a pound missed. Eventually her appetite and capacity increased to the point that I would have it to where she was never not without food in her mouth, snacking, then binging, then gorging from the moment her grumbling stomach woke her up to the time her food coma decided to knock her out for the night. I would keep a running calorie count daily with charts, projections, plans and nightly weigh ins as if her body were some kind of fatty stock market. It didn't take long for metabolism to accept defeat and for her to absolutely explode in size. Starting at a modest 130 pounds, by the end of the month with my apparent expertise Shelley had blimped up into a 300 pound fatty. She developed a double wide chair-crushing butt that filled the couch she was currently sitting on with a big rounded belly that sank ever so slightly over the cushions. Topped off by two huge basketball sized breasts that, thanks to her store discount, where always supported in a pushup bra with soft breastflesh that would jiggle and barely graze her forming triple chin whenever she took a bite.
Of course the best way to encourage gluttony was to eat alongside her. I was no slouch myself, enjoying just as many meals as her throughout the weeks. The only difference being that I would occasionally need to drive us to the next buffet or grab another armful of chips to keep her satisfied. But although I was almost matching her bite for bite, I only put on about 40 pounds, putting me at 210. Where Shelley had to upsize every few days at the alarming speed she was gaining, I've only had to size up twice. And much to my chagrin, I was not even big enough for the small sizes that Widenheimer's offered! Needless to say, the plan was a huge success. Shelley's new engorged figure plus her natural acumen at fatty fashion had her in the spotlight with management and it wasn't long before she became head salesperson.
We were currently in a booth at Polyburger celebrating with a victory feast. We were in the special extra wide booths they had for the larger patrons, which Shelley could now say she was a proud member of. Despite myself now getting used to being considered fat, the size of these tables still made me feel downright tiny.
"To the head saleswoman!" I said as we mimicked a clink on our supersized milkshakes.
"Indeed!" Shelly said, and then proceeded to remove the lid and chug the shake in one go and then moving right into tackling the mountain of burgers and fries that were crowding the table. I was a little taken aback by this, but it seemed like reaching this milestone only fueled her appetite. After turning her into a 24/7 eating machine I never thought of the consequences after we reached our goal. Would Shelley be able to cut back and maintain her weight?   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
<<-- Previous · Outline · Recent Additions © Copyright 2025 yotsubuh (UN: yotsubuh at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Spaghetti Westerner has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work within this interactive story. Poster accepts all responsibility, legal and otherwise, for the content uploaded, submitted to and posted on Writing.Com. |