Weight Room Title Bar

The Job
by Mason

As an employee of a grocery store, I often see certain employees take a leave of absence to pursue an education or some other form of extracurricular activity that takes them away from my store only to have them return several weeks or months later. More often than not, with the female employees, especially the younger ones, I find that the girls (and some women) tend to gain weight when they leave the store, and never lose it. In this short collection of observations, I will tell about a few of these women's gains, in an attempt to stray away from the usual styles of gainer fiction. I admit I am not a professional writer, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes made grammatically or otherwise. I hope everyone that reads this enjoys it.

My Boss

My first summer at my job introduced me to several interesting employees and some friends. One of these wonderful associates of mine was a beautiful young lady by the name of Kelly. Kelly was only a mere senior in high school, but an excellent leader and worker for the company. On several occasions she would work overtime, or show new associates how to do many of the tasks they were assigned. All in all, she was one of the nicest girls I had ever met. Physically, she was very attractive. She was petite, perhaps only 5'1''. She weighed around 115 to 120 pounds, but carried it very well. She had an average size bust, and an average size waist, and an average size butt. To make a long story short, she had your typical measurements as far as petite high school students have. During the summer before she left for college, she began to change.

I met her when I myself began to rise in the company. I was putting a bug in her ear to tell her superiors to nominate me for management material. "Well, Mason," she would say sweetly, "I'll try to do my best for you." Kelly would always be optimistic, another astonishingly radiant trait of her's. I was fiddling with a cash register, attempting to show off my superior fine motor skills to my sacker, when all of my adjustments would not fix my register's terminal (the cash register for those of you who haven't worked in a grocery store). All of the sudden, my register's light went off, and my sacker started laughing at me. Flustered, I told him to go to hell. I was just about to hit my terminal, when a soft body came up behind me. "Are you having difficulty?" Kelly asked in a surprisingly non-accusatory tone. "Well, yes and no," I mumbled, still trying to be proud in a goofy way.

That was when I had my first inclination that Kelly had begun to possibly gain some weight. She reached over the register, where my left arm was resting. Since Kelly was so short, she had to practically stand on my feet to be tall enough to reach the terminal. As she stood on her toes, her whole torso practically flopped on my arm. Now, I am a little larger than an average size person, about 6'1'', so I had no difficulty reaching it. But with her size it truly was a task, as evidenced by her flopping on my arm. As her upperbody lay on my arm, I noticed two things. Number one, was that she had very, very wonderful breasts, that were very soft. Number two, was that she no longer had an average waist. Her stomach slightly enveloped my arms, forming to its shape. Her shirt just barely came out of her pants as she stretched to fix my terminal, and I saw her side. Kelly's side formed a small, and I mean very small, love handle. As I stood there ogling her form, she finally slid off of my arm. "All done," she said, as my terminal flashed a green light, signifying its readiness for work. "Thank you very much," I replied, again brown nosing for my job's sake. As she walked away, she retucked her shirt tail, and I again saw that miniature love handle forming.

I would like to take this chance to mention that at this time I was not an FA, nor did I even know of the term's existence. However, my boss was so courteous to me, that I did not even really care if she gained weight, like I had in the past. Previously, I would mock girls that had gained weight, but Kelly was the first girl ever that I watched, and admired, for looking impressive no matter what her weight.

So the weeks of summer rolled by, and I had only really communicated with her at work. She was older than me, and I did not want to make a fool of myself before she left for college and say something foolish like, "I have always loved you," or something along those lines. I continued to watch her, no longer just observing, but hoping she gained weight. Slowly I gathered that her pants were tighter, and her blouses were too. In my place of work, the sackers were a t-shirt, and the checkers and management were long sleeve shirts. One day, she took a shift as a sacker, and I saw her body in its newest form.

The t-shirt she wore was nearly form fitting, which was a definite sign because these shirts were made to be loose. Her hourglass figure was accentuated, her breasts had to have gone up a cup size or two. Her waist was pulling the lower half of her shirt out, and jiggled with every step. Mind you, she was still not fat; merely plump. The largest change had been her posterior. It used to be tight, but now it would bounce with each step. I stood at my register, mouth gaping, just staring at her wonderful build. She came up to sack for me, and I nearly forgot I had a customer. For the rest of the shift, I fought having an erection for most of my shift. Towards the end of my shift, she pulled me aside to tell me something, which was peculiar anyway. Kelly told me that she was going to college in Mississippi. I was devastated.

On her last shift I worked with her, she gave me an average hug. I am sad to say that I spent most of the hugging yearning for her to gain weight, but I enjoyed her soft figure. At this point, I guessed her weight to be about 140. I almost cried, because I knew I would miss her. But she assured me that she would leave me a gift. Instantly I thought that perhaps she would give me a picture or something to remember her by as she left for college. Instead, she told the management that I should fill her shoes. The following day, Mr. Stanley, the head of my store, brought me into his office to inform him of Kelly's recommendation. "Well Mason," my boss said, "I want you to take her place." I immediately shook his hand, and didn't hear about Kelly until Christmas.

At around Christmas, after having secured my place in the management of my store, Kelly returned and offered to work a couple of shifts over the holidays. I talked to her ex-boyfriend about her, and he was almost mad at her. "My god! She looks like a cow!" he rambled off. I didn't interject my opinion until I had seen her. So now I waited, and waited, and waited. It seemed like weeks, when in fact in was only hours.

She came to work in her old uniform, which was a large fashion mistake. The buttons on her blouse pulled across her bust, and her stomach. I thought they would all burst off if she stretched her torso at all. I could see her bra through the gaps in her shirt. Her bust was incredibly large, easily a 46 DD. It was even more impressive on her 5'1'' frame. And her stomach was round. She did not have a large pot belly, but a belly that jiggled every time she moved. Her face did not really fill out. Kelly did sport a small double chin, but that was by far not the largest change. Her rear end had almost grown to the point of pulling the threads of her pants to their limits. When she bent over, I cringed at the thought of her pants splitting, and her embarrassment. Fortunately, I found an extra set of uniforms in the back of the store, and asked her if she wanted one. "I don't want one," Kelly said sadly, "I need one."

As I gathered pairs of pants, and new shirts, I tried to get her to try on some of the clothes. Initially, she was uncomfortable with the idea, but I assured her that if she would put them on while I hid my eyes, and I only looked when she was done, it would be fine. She agreed, and began to try on clothes. She started with a size 10 pants. As she pulled them on, or tried to pull them up, she yelled out curse words. I did not peek, believing that she was watching me in the mirror. "These fucking pants won't ... go ... on ..." Kelly yelled at her pants. Sure enough they did not fit. I offered her a size 12. Again, I hid my eyes and listened to her put them on. Breaking my agreement, I took my hands from my eyes. Kelly was concentrating so hard on pulling up the pants that she didn't even notice me. I saw her large butt swaying, as she tried to pull the pants above her large rump. Even her underwear seemed to fight her size, as I observed that she had love handles hanging nearly an inch and a half all the way around her back side. The fold of flesh I could only see from behind, since she was facing the other direction. She almost fell backwards as she gave the pants one last tug. She fell backwards into me. As I caught her, I enjoyed her plump warmth and started to have an erection. Kelly noticed, or at least I think she did, and stood up again.

"Okay Happy," she said half jokingly, half angrily, "You can stop staring at my ass." I blushed and swore would never do anything of the sort. She smiled at me and seductively asked, "So you're saying you don't like my ass?" I nervously said, "Well, ... I ...." and she stopped me mid-retort. "Just help me find some pants that fit, will ya?" I complied, and we kept looking for pants. She tried on a size 14, and it came up over her rear end. That was when she had fun, or rather, I had fun. Kelly was too weak to pull her zipper together. She sucked in her gut, and kept trying. Dejected, she turned to me and asked, "Could you help me with this?" I smiled and asked, "Well what are you gonna do for me?" Wittingly, she said, "Not sue you for sexual harassment..." I almost had a heart attack. "You wouldn't, would you?" I cried back. "Of course not silly, just help me out here."

I pulled the button to the hole with all my might, and it failed miserably. Feeling failure, she let her stomach hang out, as it hit my hands. Her stomach fell over the edges of the pants, as they stayed on her, unbuttoned. "Well, what do you think?" she asked. As I pondered my response, I saw her start to cry. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me about her campus life. How the first few weeks her grades slipped, and her way of coping did not involve hitting the books, but hitting the burgers. She told me that she noticed her clothes getting tighter all the time, but when she was going to buy new clothes, she didn't have enough money. Her least favorite story was of her going to a pool party, and her trying on her swimsuit. She told me she owned two; one was a two piece, the other a one-piece. The one piece had small slits along the sides to show off her once slim sides, but when she tried it on, her thighs bulged and her love handles poured out of each of the holes. Kelly swore she looked fat in it, so she confidently wore her two piece. She didn't even bother to look in a mirror before going to the party. Once there, she saw that most of the bottom part was lost under her swollen butt cheeks, and her stomach fell over all sides. Kelly admitted though that she liked the size of her chest. All the other waifs at the party shunned her, and she only ate more. Kelly emphasized that she kept eating and eating, until she could only fit into two outfits; one a sweatsuit, the other an ugly short dress that clung to her breasts and stomach.

At this point I reassured her that she was beautiful, but she went on without agreeing with me. She told me that after almost the whole semester had ended, she had failed to step on a scale. When she did, it read 178. She had easily topped the freshman 15! Kelly was mad at all the girls, and she wanted to be like them. Again I stopped her and said, "Look. You may have gained a little weight, but a lot of guys really like women to have a little more, uh...." "Fat," she interrupted. "No, you aren't fat. You are beautiful," I told her. She began to weep, and rested her head on my shoulder. I pulled her nearer, and rubbed her back and the back of her head. After about five minutes, she stopped and wiped her eyes. She just smiled and looked at me. "Thank you," she whispered. I smiled back, and she bent over and kissed me on the cheek.

After that, she just grabbed some size 16 pants and a shirt two sizes larger, and stood up. Kelly walked over to me and gave me a hug. I wanted to make love to her, I wanted to show her how much I cared about her. I think she did not feel the same way for me that I did for her. After our long embrace, she walked out the doors of the back, went through the store, and drove home. Backing out of the room, I walked up to the front end of the store. My superior, Mr. Stanely, asked me what took so long. I couldn't think of an answer, so he sent me home early.

On my drive home, I wondered if I would ever date her. The next day I saw her at work, she was talking with her ex-boyfriend, who apparently took a new view of her figure. As I walked towards the two, they were talking sweet talk to each other and I knew my efforts to get her would be futile. In hindsight though, I feel that watching her grow a summer ago and seeing her new figure this Christmas was the most influential event in my fat admiration.

The Trainee

With my new position in the company, there arose several new responsibilities. Among them was training new employees. This was a difficult task, because I had to know my job inside and out. So one evening, I sat at home and wrote down the Pros and Cons of working at my store.

Scratching my head, I wrote Pro. Under it I began listing ideas. "Pro," I thought aloud, "Good paycheck. Good associates. Employee discounts." Then I had a twisted thought; what about the free food. If you work more than eight hours for a shift, you get free food all day. Now, nowhere in our employee hand book does it say how much food free an employee can get. For that matter of fact, only a few employees actually abuse it, one of whom was Kelly. I decided that when I was forced to train new female employees, I could present this to them as a huge benefit. I did not make it to the Con column.

So over the next few weeks, I trained new employees. Most were younger girls, in their late teens. There was one female named Terri. Terri was a white female, 21 years old, 5'7'', and about 165 pounds. She carried it well, with an average size bust, but a large posterior. She had a stunning face, and a sexy swish to her walk. When I gave her the tour of the store, I observed her watching the bakery while I talked. I took note of this, and thought that perhaps she could be a plumper in the making. It was then that I put my plan into work.

"You know Terri," I spoke, leaning towards her to take her attention off of the baked goods, "We have a sort of employee privilege here." She brought her eyes towards me, and I went in for the kill. "How long would you like your shifts to be?" I asked. "Well Mason," she spoke seductively, "I can go as long as you need me." Damn, she was sexy. With that, I told her if she worked more than eight hours, all the food she ate would be free. "That's good, because I don't have that much money," she answered. I knew she had to be a plumper in the making.

On her first shift, I watched her go to the bakery on her first lunch. Terri must have been famished, because she tore into a pack of a dozen doughnuts. Then a dozen cookies, and then a hamburger. Keep in mind the breaks are only fifteen minutes long. She came back, and kept on working. It took about two weeks to notice any change in her appearance physically. Terri came into work with a different shade of pants. I asked why she had different work pants. "Well, uh, ..." she attempted to come up with an excuse, "I lost them." I stared at her, and she admitted, "Okay, okay, I outgrew them." I reminded her that it was store policy that if someone needed new pants, they had to buy them through the company, not outside of it. She was mad, but knew she had to obey what I said if she wanted to keep her job.

The next shift, she wore her other pants. Sure enough, they were stretched to capacity, and her stomach peaked out over the tops of the pants and below the bottom of her blouse. It formed a delicious roll that I almost couldn't keep my eyes off. She proceeded to tell me that she was abusing the policy of eating on the job, and went further to say that that was the only time she could eat. Apparently, her ex-husband had left her nothing in the form of money, and she had to get by on what she was earning at the grocery store. I told her that it was alright if she ate on the job, and that if she needed new clothes, she could just ask me. Terri thought about it for a while, then agreed.

Over the next month or so, she kept gaining weight. Each time someone gets a new uniform from our company, they have to fill out a form that describes why they need it. Each time, Terri would write down her weight, and each time it turned me on. The first time she did it, she wrote, "Weight went from 160 to 185." I thought she was just writing her weight down as a little less than what she really was. She was more like 195 when she wrote that. Still, her figure was wonderful. Most of the weight went either to her bust or her rear. It only made more employees stare at her when she walked by.

The next time she needed a uniform she wrote only, "Weight went to 210." It looked more like 220. She was having to replace her uniform about every fifteen shifts, or roughly every three weeks. Each time she wrote something along the lines of, "Weight went to ..." and whatever she thought it was. She escalated to 230, then 255, then she stopped at 280. I worried about her health, because everyday at work, she would sweat profusely, and have to take longer breaks. I told her that I was going to give her a little time off to improve her health, and she got angry at me. "You said I could eat all that I want!" she protested. "No, I said your food would be paid for," I replied. This only angered her more. She walked off the job, and I was forced to fire her.

For nearly two months I beat myself up. I couldn't believe I basically fired someone because of their weight. I justified it by saying I was helping her health. Then I realized that she wasn't earning a paycheck, and that probably did more damage than any amount of food could do. I called her apartment, hoping to get in touch with her. Someone answered the phone. "Hello?" the sleepy voice said.

"Is Terri there?" I questioned. "Yeah, this she."

"I am sorry," I said matter-of-factly.

"Who is this?" she asked back. "It's me, Mason." "Oh," she answered bluntly. I began to apologize for over an hour, when she stopped my apology. "Well, it's okay. I found a man that appreciates me for my size." I was curious, so I asked her how large she. "Well, I think you would only get mad at me ..." she began, and I interrupted. "No, no, no, ... I gave up my preconceived notions that weight determines one's health (which I had by this time)." She slowly whispered into the phone a number. A large one. At first I thought she was joking. 350 pounds seemed like a lot of woman for a 5'7'' body. She told me about the rich man she was 'dating,' and how he was a feeder. Again, a new concept entered my mind. Terri kept talking, and I was noticing that all the weight she gained did not change her sexy voice, or her attitude. It only accentuated it. This turned me on. But she let me down by telling me she was engaged. Again my hopes of love were dashed, but this time it was my fault.

"Well, if you want your job back, feel free to com..." she stopped me. "I would, but my man doesn't like me to exhaust myself. He just likes me to sit around, eat, and make love. I am content with that." That statement changed my ideas forever. I became a true FA at that time. Also, I decided that I would start training women to do as they please, and not force the issue of weight gain. It certainly made my job more interesting. To think, every week a new employee would walk through the doors of my store, and I would have the opportunity to plump them up. It was an enticing thought, but I decided to give it a rest for a while. Until I met Linda, but that's another story .....

If you enjoyed these two stories, I have a few more and would love to share them with admirers of true weight gain stories. Thanks for reading these stories, and please email me a response. Hope you ask for more! MASON