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Rated: E · Interactive · Erotica · #1856959
a quality-controlled interactive about life in a pudgy prep school
This choice: What If?: It's all 500lbs of Ms. Polluck, her hedonistic hippo headmistress!  •  Go Back...
Chapter #12

What If?: Piggiest Polluck

    by: Bobo the Hobo Author IconMail Icon
The door flew open, Ms. Polluck’s prodigious stomach bobbing a full two feet in front of the headmistress herself. If the sound of creaking floorboards and smacking lips weren’t enough to signal her arrival, the intrusion of Ms. Polluck’s incredible belly was enough to warrant all of the attention Hannah could muster. It was a huge, doughy thing that hung well down over her knees. Ms. Polluck’s meager movements, barely able to be considered waddling, left her gut quivering visibly beneath those big yellow tents that were her business attire. Her belly was so big, Hannah noticed with audible glee, that there was a triangle of fat pampered flesh bulging out around the waistline of her skirt. Apparently she was due for an upsize soon.

“Hnnh!” she was stuffing donuts in her mouth already, one arm carrying an entire butter-yellow box (that looked to be running on empty), and glaze dotted the corners of her mouth.

Ms. Polluck struggled to take another two steps forward, only for the outer swell of her stomach to brush uncomfortably close to either side of the door frame. It pushed her blazer up further along her stomach, increasing the amount of flesh Hannah had to ogle. As her behemoth body met resistance, her face scrunched in discomfort, almost as if she were confused by the phenomenon. Her blonde brow furrowed as she proceeded to push onward, a husky growl coming from deep within her folds as she struggled to keep moving. She managed—barely—to squeeze through the door. Her saddlebag thighs and meaty gobs of love-handles had taken quite the manhandling though, not that it impeded her scarfing down everything edible in sight.

Ever since day one, Hannah had slowly been introducing various fattening shortcuts into her Headmistress’ routine—the pre-made coffee, the donuts, offering to order breakfast for her—all disguised as de-stressing initiatives. And they were. Hannah could attest to the incredible stressed woman that Ms. Polluck had been before, the “former” headmistress of the Academy, as well as to her round figure. For the entirety of her Junior year, Hannah had spent the duration of her time in Ms. Polluck’s office exploiting every weakness that her headmistress could offer. A wicked combination of stress-eating, a sedentary lifestyle, and something of sweet tooth had already left Ms. Polluck at a whopping three hundred pounds—but when Hannah started ordering her breakfast, making her coffee, taking care of a lot of work, and taking care of the more tedious affairs around school, Ms. Polluck picked up an affinity for lethargy. Ms. Polluck had been slowly molded much more closely into what fit Hannah’s ideal model for a teacher to assist: where Hannah removed her drive for responsibility, a penchant for indulgence soon came to take its place. Through her mollycoddling, encouragement, and appetite stimulants, Hannah had managed to plump her headmistress up to what couldn’t have been anything less than five hundred pounds of pure, indulgent blubber.

Ms. Polluck pushed past her, waddling straight for her desk as she stuffed the remainder of her donut into her mouth. Her thick legs struggled against their own circumference, her gait was tediously slow. She squeezed into the ample space behind her desk and threw herself down into the reinforced office chair from last semester. It looked uncomfortable, given the amount of resistance Ms. Polluck’s tire-wide ass met when she plopped herself down. There was no way it was too small already…

“Good morning Ms. Polluck.” Hannah said with a smile as she poured her heaving heft of headmistress some super-stimulated coffee, “How was your Summer?”

“G’mornin dear…” Ms. Polluck burbled as she slurped down her coffee, “Urp… it was good…”

Ms. Polluck grabbed another donut, biting into with a thick noise of appreciation. Hannah guessed that she would be closer to six donuts in before breakfast arrived at the rate she was going.

“Did you order me breakfast?” Ms. Polluck grunted as she stuffed another donut into her mouth

“Of course.” Hannah chirped, trying and failing to keep her arousal at bay, “It should be here pretty soon.”

“Mmm… yummy.” Ms. Polluck smacked her lips greedily, “Oh I can’t… mm… can’t wait. Yum yum…”

It was at that moment that the office buzzer rang, eliciting an excited, sexual squeal from the elephantine Polluck, and a pronounced bite to Hannah Hammond’s lower lip…

***


Hannah watched the beast before her, shuddering with arousal as Ms. Polluck stuffed herself with a feverish haste like a woman possessed. Sweat trickled down her forehead and rolled down her puffy cheeks, her brown eyes glossed with a haze of semi-cognizance.

The great behemoth gorged herself, probably unaware of Hannah’s presence at all by this point. She lowered the sizeable breakfast bowl over her head and tilted it back, allowing the thick white avalanche of grits to fall freely into her open, waiting maw. Her blouse was too small. Her business-casual leisure suit clung noticeably to her blobby body, being pulled upwards at the insistence of her inflated arms. As the cheesy, buttery, bacony menagerie of southern-fried calories hit her tongue, Ms. Polluck sounded throaty bellowing moans of engorged ecstasy. She lowered the bowl, casually tossing aside to the pile of dishes her desk had accumulated.

Hannah had created a monster.

A big beautiful monster.

She wiped her mouth, panting thickly as she wiped her palm over the corners of her mouth. Without a second’s thought, she moved onto the next course: a platter of thick juicy sausages, scrambled eggs, and bacon, and yet another donut from the box beside her. It was the most multi-tasking she did all day. Both of her wide, sagging arms would go their separate ways only to reunite in order to further gorging herself. Her new desk, chosen specifically because of its semicircular shape and her ability to sit in the center of it rather than behind it, was cluttered with plate after plate of fattening Buttercombe Cuisine.

She was nearing spherical proportions. The woman was mostly belly, her incredible top half completely obscured any hope for a field of vision while sitting or standing (not that she stood much these days). Her girth was so cumbersome that it left her completely helpless from the front. Any and all paperwork had to be put to her side, or she couldn’t reach it. The same went for meals and snacks, as well as the return of dirty dishes. Plates were within arm’s length, or placed atop her enormous belly.

As she continued to indulge herself, her mind free of any and all obligations to her school or responsibilities, Ms. Polluck let out a window-rattling belch that caused a momentary pause in her hedonism. It left her panting, her nostrils expanding as she struggled to regain her breath.

Even her face had grown swollen and unrecognizable in her decadence. It had fattened around her features, inflating her cheeks to obstructive sizes that caused her eyes to squint, and burying her neck under a thick layer of fat that sat atop her breasts and wobbled whenever she felt the urge to speak. Her nose broadened and softened, and her lips were in a constant state of permanent pouting. Years of indulgence and training, Hannah subtly nudging her further and further over the edge of gluttony and decadence had completely transformed her—removed her ambition for higher test scores and graduation rates and replaced it with a single-minded desire to eat.

Ms. Polluck was a headmistress now in name only, appearing under only the most necessary of circumstances.

There was a tonal melody as the neglected office phone, off in the corner of her desk, began to ring. It took Ms. Polluck several bars to register that her phone was ringing for the first time that morning. Most of the faculty had long learned that Ms. Polluck only helped herself, drastically reducing the number of calls that Hannah’s prized piggy had to put up with in a day.

Finally a disgusted sigh, a noise of pure begrudging discomfort sounded from the great sputtering whale of a woman. She extended one dangerously thick arm, straining slightly as she struggled to move as little as possible, and picked up the receiver. She brought it to her ear, her cheek meat bulging over the neck.

“What?” she commanded gruffly, still chewing on her food, “This had… brrurrup… better be good, Candace.”
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