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Old 03-01-2018, 02:10 PM   #1
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 42
chrissy has said some nice things
Default The Siren Call (~BBW, ~WG)

Colleen was an average girl – dirty blonde hair swayed down to her shoulders, slender figure, blue eyes and thinner lips. My job as manager, sitting across the table in interview, was to size her up for suitability as a partner. I was unsure. She was fine, if average. Half way through a state degree in liberal arts, I noticed only the mildest of hints that her attire did not fit the way it did beginning university. Her stomach sat in a vaguely concave way that took an apparent effort, although it was perhaps wishful thinking; the tiniest little curves, similarly, peeked out from atop her skinny jeans in a cute, resolutely normal way. However, I'd been eyeing her for a while on my campus. I was a Starbucks manager and grad student, and she, an undergrad. I saw her potential; I saw her oh so slowly growing, and I knew I had to extend an invitation to her.

Something about this girl sent my mind racing. The biggest thing was that there was one area where Colleen was decidedly unaverage. Her bust was front and center. At certainly a large C, at least, it dominated her demeanor and she absolutely knew what she had, and her subtlety in betraying that knowledge was only further ample evidence.

"So what's your favourite drink here?" I offered, signalling I felt she was a hire and moving on to some more fun topics. She looked visibly relieved; her stomach relaxed for a moment, revealing a small starter belly, before she instinctively sucked it in again.

"Oh, umm.... I used to love the frappuccinos, but these days I think I'm more of a earl grey tea latte type... fewer calories, haha."

I nodded, sagely, closing my eyes a little to feign respect.

"Well you know we sometimes have our partners try new drinks here before we put them on the menu. Would you be ok with that? It's mandatory." None of this was true.

"Oh, um.... yeah, I guess? How often would that be?"

"Can't say for sure, unfortunately, but in the past month we've done one tester." Also not the plan.

"Well I don't see why not, haha. When do I start?"

"I'll put you on the schedule for Thursday and you've got 15-20 hours a week going forward."

"Awesome. Thank you so much." As Colleen got up, she subtly pulled up her pants, which has run down a little bit against her hips.

I made sure to schedule myself in such that she and I worked every Sunday – us alone, and few customers.
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Old 03-01-2018, 02:11 PM   #2
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 42
chrissy has said some nice things

The first few weeks – and couple of months, really – were admittedly uneventful. I made sure Colleen try at least one drink every Sunday, as we were alone. I had her sign an agreement that as part of product testing, not even the testing could be disclosed to coworkers, or anyone, and no coworkers could admit they knew of the program either. I hoped this would cover me if she decided to talk about it one day. So far so good.

I had to get creative with the fake drink names. The "heavy fog" became a favourite of Colleen's; she even asked if she could have another one week, out of the blue. I told her the recipes were proprietary and I was unable to disclose it, of course. It was basically a london fog latte with heavy cream and extra pumps of vanilla.

There was also the unicorn latte. This was believable; we just did the unicorn frappucino not long ago. This was, again, a latte with extra heavy cream and pumps of sugar. It was literally a giant calorie bomb; still, Coleen didn't seem to think much of it. I almost grew a little hard watching her down the drink like it was nothing, wholly unaware of the damage it would wreak upon her mid-20s physique. (To my guarded delight, she disclosed that she had started her undergrad a bit later because of wanting to travel.)

Despite my efforts, she seemed to be fairly impervious to the extra bit of sugar that had entered her life; if she had gained anything, it was virtually imperceptible. Closing in on four months in, I knew she wouldn't want this job forever and the school was the only thing keeping her here, so I had to step up my game.

"Hey Colleen," I texted her. So far I had not done so outside of work contexts.

"Hey, what's up?"

"You won't believe this." I couldn't believe I was doing this. I had to do it by text; I didn't think I could be convincing in person, and I was somewhat afraid of the potential response.

"I've received word from higher up that they're extending the program and wanting to look at long-term dietary impact of the drink menu. There's big money in it for you." This was money out of my pocket. Yes, I wanted to see her chub up quite badly. She was exactly the type to look absolutely gorgeous with the extra framing – and so far she seemed game for something like this.

"Um, ok? I think we should discuss this in person."

Damn. This probably wasn't going to go over well.

We met up the following Sunday. Whether it was my imagining things or what, she did suddenly seem oh so slightly bigger. Maybe it was the fact that her boobs filled out her shirt just that little bit more. Maybe it was the extra apparent effort on her part to permanently suck it in to get that skinny look. Or maybe it was my wishful thinking.

In any case, we stood and discussed while setting up for the morning.

"So yeah, I don't know what they're going to mandate in terms of diet, but it's going to be $200 a week. And free drinks, of course," I said. I had the power to give out cheques in the store's name; I'd just reimburse the store and that was that.

"Surely they told you the specifics. Just tell me." Colleen put her hands on her hips, smiling. She didn't seem particularly concerned, for some reason. Perhaps as she could say no.

"Well," I paused, thinking to make it up on the fly. What was plausible? What would she say yes to?

"Ah, I'm pretty sure they said they wanted to look at the impact on a young person having whatever they want from the store, if it were to be without cost," I finally said. It sounded ridiculous as soon as it exited my mouth; Colleen's eyebrows raised.

"Umm... So it's like, more of a social experiment? Like what would I take if there wasn't a cost? I guess that makes sense."

"Yeah," I said, a bit relieved. Suddenly I knew how this could work. "I'll be giving you a card, so you can even take it to other Starbucks if you want. It's effectively unlimited. Only they will know what gets charged, of course." They being me, of course. I was going to be able to see exactly what Colleen decided to spring for. This could, of course, get expensive...

"And I get $200 bucks a week. Not a bad deal!" She smiled before reaching up for the vanilla pump on the upper counter. This was the first time I has seen her without her Starbucks apron in weeks; her shirt lifted up from the stretch as she went on her toes, and I caught a faint glimpse of her stomach. She was still indeed pretty thin, but I noticed a first sprinking of fat on her frame that was surely not present when I'd first hired her.

Soon enough, the fairly uneventful shift was over, as Sundays always were at our store.

"Here's your card," I said. "They'll pay you monthly by cheque. It only works for food and drink. If you try anything else, they'll ask to be reimbursed or it'll go off your extra pay. Have fun, lucky girl," I said, smiling.

"Thanks for thinking of me," she replied courteously, even giving me a little hug.

I really had no idea what the charge patterns were going to look like on that card, but it was certainly going to be interesting to find out.
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Old 03-01-2018, 02:11 PM   #3
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 42
chrissy has said some nice things

Again, it was slow going at first. I noticed Colleen had a tendency to get a tall blonde roast every single morning. Fair enough, as do I. Then it seemed that she slowly began to realize she no longer needed to cook, necessarily. Bagels were added. Then the first pastry. Lattes began to creep in on the weekends.

By the end of the first month, a routine had developed that no girl would admit to: three lattes every day, three pastries every day, and two breakfast sandwiches and a wrap every day. And this was finally what broke Colleen: a month settled into this new routine (and occasional other indulgences aside), I finally noticed that her tiny lovehandles has begun to grow, and there was a new layer of softness settling on her stomach, which had begun threatening to gently slope over her belt buckle. It was quickly getting into dangerous territory for a girl who never had to really think about dieting or a gym regimen so assiduously.

Of course, she barely even realized what was going on. She instinctively just sucked it in more. Her belts went out a notch or two, probably thinking it was temporary bloating. For just one Sunday, I caught her wearing her usual t-shirt past its due date as far as her gain was concerned: her lower belly constantly kept threatening to emerge from overtop her jeans and beneath her shirt; she was beginning to have a hard time sucking it in. Of course, the Starbucks apron helped mask all of this, but working with her side by side I caught glimpses of the battle.

Of course, I said absolutely nothing, hoping the pounds would just keep coming. She might stop. She might not.

After a few more weeks, it became clear what Colleen's "temporary" solution was: looser shirts that flowed around her belt and reached a little lower, bunched up around her chest, emphasing the clear gains she was making in that area. It really worked for her. Any sense of a problem area developing around her waist line was gone; if you didn't know better, you might think she was still a bit of a twig. But I knew better.

And in response to the clothing swap? Even more goodies. It became clear that Colleen did all her studying at the Bucks. More pastries piled onto the card's tab. More lattes. More. It seemed that hiding it bought her a licence to indulge like never before, and it never seemed to particularly bother her how big she was getting.

Three months in, she finally broached the subject with me one Sunday. She was starting to actually look a bit chubby, concealing clothes or not; she had to buy new jeans, and even though were clearly unnaturally constaining.

"So um... how long does this program last? With the, um, card?"

Again, I had to think fast.

"Oh um, according to what you signed it lasts a year."

"Oh. Well maybe you should take the card away from me, haha."

"Why's that?" I furrow my brows in some concern.

"Well um, haha, I don't have a whole lot of self control... as you can... er... see."

"Not sure what you're talking about."

Colleen put her hands on her growing hips. "I mean I'm gaining weight because of this stupid program."

No, it's your choices, I thought. No matter. "Well, ok. Just put the card there on the back table. And take it if you ever want it again. It's out of my hands."

"No, I want you to take it away from me, haha."

"Sorry, it's technically not part of the program. Nothing I can do. Just... have some will power. Besides, Colleen, to be honest... and don't like #MeToo me on this, haha... you look great. Seriously."

Colleen did a fake pout but clearly seemed to take the compliment well.

"Alright, you lovely bastard." It was the end of the shift; Colleen took her apron off. Somewhere in the shuffle I caught a split second glimpse of her shirt riding up, just enough to see that her lovehandles were even bigger than I had expected, permanently taking up residence on her sides, doughy swathes of sex and humiliation that they were.

"I guess I might as well take advantage while I can. God, I don't know. I've just, to be honest, never been this heavy. I know it's not bad, and even normal for a lot of girls, but it's not me."

I look down at the floor, awkwardly. She's confiding in me. What do I say?

"Well," I start, "Well, you have to do what's right for you, but I'd say this card thing is temporary, so why not take advantage as you like and go from there?"

"But then I take advantage too much."

"Well, look. It's not my decision to make." I decide to be a little more firm. Colleen looked a bit exasperated and defeated by the temptations within her.

"... I know."
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Old 03-01-2018, 02:12 PM   #4
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 42
chrissy has said some nice things

Sure enough, Colleen did seem to try to curb things back after that conversation. I saw an immediate drop on the card back to just black coffees and the occasional latte; she seemed to be back to eating at home. The pounds had a way of sticking stubbornly, however – in the three weeks she had turned over her leaf, I observed little to no change in her newly slightly-enlarged form, and neither did she revert back to any of her old styles of dress.

I knew – well, hoped – that this could only last so long. Finals were coming up. I knew personally if I had an unlimited Starbucks card, I'd be hitting that thing every day on finals week.

It happened sooner than expected, even. Around early April on a Friday, I saw a new string of unusual behaviour. I had the card hooked up to the app on my phone, and that to my smart watch. My wrist first buzzed at 3:05pm. "Grande mocha, skim." Skim, I scoffed internally. Skim.

Two hours later, at a new location, it went off again. "Venti green tea latte, turkey pesto panini." Damn.

At 8pm, incredulously, again. New location (which was easy to do, as these things were, granted, literally blocks apart). "Venti Earl grey tea latte, whole milk, chocolate peanut butter cookie."

This was a turning into a pretty epic cheat day for her.

I imagined her enjoying item after item, washing it down, studying intently, growing bored, and picking up and doing it all again at a new location so as to not look like the little pig she so clearly was becoming, brushing the crumbs off her engorged stomach and growing chest...

It went on like this for the first week of April, and it got really expensive. I began to regret throwing so much money into it. As it turned out, actually fattening someone up on Starbucks was expensive as hell.

On the next Sunday, she made a special request I couldn't refuse.

"So um... I know we're really busy and stuff, but I was wondering... if... I could have the next two weeks off for finals," she said, speeding up at the tail end of the sentence to get it out.

"Well, Colleen, we're basically all students here - "

"I know, I know. I just need to study, okay? It's a really important year for me... I know Rebecca is looking for more hours and I talked to her about it."

She wasn't wrong; Rebecca was asking me about that. "Well, I guess you have a point there, and I don't see why n–"

"Thank you thank you!" She unreservedly came in and hugged me; suddenly, I felt all of the extra cushioning she had been accumulating on me, pressing on me, all at once. I tell you, it took everything not to pop a hard one right there, against her thigh.

She stood back, her arms still around my shoulders, looking ready to do something. I kept poise. This wasn't the time. Wasn't about to get fired over this one, consent or no, no matter what the extent.

"So you'll see me in two weeks. Wish me luck."

"Of course. How's the..." I stopped myself, thinking bringing up the card would not be a great idea after all.

"Oh, the card? Good for a morning coffee, that's all."

So now she's lying, I thought. Just as well.

I wanted to check in on her one more time before she left. Near the end of the shift, I had an idea.

"Could you ah... just put these away before you go? Top shelf." I gestured to the fresh box of blonde roast espresso beans we'd received that morning.

"Yeah, sure." Colleen took a few and began to put in. It was honestly my favourite task to have her do, as it meant she had to stretch on her toes to reach the back of the top cupboard.

I took myself to the sinks, just beside her, which I had been saving for last for this moment. I felt selfconscious. Just a glance, I thought. See where she's at after this week of intense cheating – following a few weeks of unhealthy crash dieting, no less. Her metabolism must be getting out of whack.

At first I didn't understand. She looked really small. Her black pants fit her torso snugly; they rested high on her waist, no navel to be found. Yet, I saw the bulges of her hips.

I took a second cursory glance. Then it suddenly hit me. Colleen was wearing leggings. My heart stopped for a second. She felt the need to wear pants for chubby girls. Another sign of denial and deferral. It hurt my bank account dearly, but dear God, it was working.

The next two weeks were intolerable, except for the fact that they were so busy I barely had time to think about Colleen. The reminders were like clockwork, however – order, order, order. Eventually I turned off notifications.

So the leggings buy you some more time, I thought to myself. But what when it it gets to be too much for them?

What then?


After much personal consternation, I looked at her Instagram with about three days left until she was scheduled back at work with me. The older pictures had plenty of body shots. Lately, not so much. Nothing from the past month, certainly. More Starbucks food shots (or the presence of any, for that matter) occupied the last couple of months. One came in. A blueberry muffin.

"#cheatday #bodypositivity" it yelped in hashtalk.

I checked the order. "Yeah, a muffin, but you neglected to include the grande mocha you got with it... or the two slices of lemon loaf you demolished two hours ago," I thought.

Later that evening, another picture came in.

"#curves #girlsnite," Colleen exclaimed in the post. It was a selfie, but not just any. She was with a couple of girlfriends, and I immediately noticed something different about her. Her chest was smooshed together, some cleavage on display in a way I was never privy to at work. It could have been the attire or the post, but she looked quite different in a way that honestly shocked me a little. Her arms, in particular, seemed a bit bigger.

The day before, I got a text from her. She rarely texted me.

"Hi, um, it's Colleen."

"What's up" I replied, simply.

"So I know that is basically unheard of but, I was wondering if I could get a bit more time off."

I was delighted if she was going to do what she'd apparently been doing for the past two weeks, but I has a front to maintain. I decided to call her.

"You're right, that is basically unheard of."

"Haha... yeah. But I could really really use it. To get my schedule back in order after finals. And get in shape, haha."

I paused. Colleen's voice sounded slightly different. It was maybe just the phone, but I could swear it even sounded... thicker.

"Okay, I respect that. Again, we're all in that kind of boat, but again I know Rebecca wants the hours."

"Haha yep. So... is that ok?"

I let it sit for a moment. Don't appear eager. Appear reticent.

"Yeah, I guess so. How much time you need?"

"Um. I imagine just another week is fine but we'll see? Sorry."

"It's okay."

"Hey, also? You should try the green tea latte. It's so good."

I laughed. "A favourite of yours?"

"Yum. I mean yeah. Hahah oh God."

"Well don't be a stranger, you could always visit for a moment even if you're not working."

"For sure. Thanks again so much and take care."

I slid my phone in my pocket, standing there, thinking about how addicted Colleen was clearly becoming about the drinks and food, and the fact that the extra pay meant she didn't even feel compelled to work. And she apparently felt like she needed to work out a bit before coming back.

I should have told her to come back to work. I should have taken the card away and stopped the whole "program."

But I didn't, and as the days passed I became more and more curious about how exactly Colleen was doing, and I had to constantly remind myself that it was none of my business.

Yet, it was exactly my business.


The constant orders continued unabated for four additional weeks. Colleen had all but disapppeared from her social media photos. Finally my conscious, if I had one, got the better of me.

"Everything OK?" I texted. It was 8pm on a Saturday; I was laying in bed, flat on my back.

Minutes passed. This was unusual for Colleen, who was quick to the draw on texts from me.

"Can we meet?" Was all she texted back. I called.

"Are you actually coming back to work?" I asked, sincerely. "I actually do need to know, sorry."

"Of course. Sorry. Heck, I'll just come in tomorrow. If that's OK. I don't know how it got so long."

"It's OK, I allowed it. I'm just wondering. So did you ah, read any books?"

"Haha... no. Enough school for a lifetime here right now. I..." Colleen's voice trailed off. It sounded a bit different, again.

"You wanted to meet?"

"Yeah, I... well, you know me. We're basically friends at this point, yeah?" It was more or less true. We talked a lot at work.

"Yeah, of course."

"Ok look. The um, card, haha? I have completely fallen off the wagon."

"Oh come on Colleen. How bad could it be? Folks in their mid 20s fill out a little, look at me! That's what we do," I said, trying to be reassuring.

Colleen laughed. "Mmm, no. This is bad."

"Mm, don't believe you."

She laughed again. "Haha. You make this all seem okay... but it's so not. It's really not." She got a little more serious at the end.

"Okay look. You said you wanted to meet? How about Arlington's, on me. You show me how bad it is, and I'll tell you how good it is."

"Oh God, you're funny. So is this like a.... date?"

I audibly cleared my thoat.

"Ah, is it? You tell me."

"Well today is a day. It's on my calendar. It's a date according to the standard system of time," she said, a bit geekily.

"Okay... so... it... is date."

"Are you groot?"

I laughed. "Is date. Have good time. Arlington. 9pm. Dress best."

"Haha, okay. See you soon. Byeee."


I blinked twice. I was about to see Colleen, who I hadn't seen for six weeks, and who I knew had been raiding the corporate cookie jar incessantly all the while; practically unemployed, no less.

What was I to find at the other end of such unrestrained gluttony?
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Old 03-01-2018, 02:12 PM   #5
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 42
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Arlington was a touch classier than then average bar, so I endeavored to dress accordingly. Black business slacks would do the trick, I thought. No. Yes. And a semi-casual blazer with a tshirt. I could take it off if it ended up being a little too try-hard.

I walked through the cool May night, idly imagining how Colleen might look walking beside me. Had she accrued a bona-fide ass in the interim of our work togethers? Was she wearing the same pair of leggings I had once spied before? Was she managing it?

Now, to be fair, although I was rather single-track-minded in my ambition, I'd come to know her as so much more than some witness to my inner demons. No; she was our DJ on the work iPod, she was the immaculate eagle eye on our board handiwork. She was a fine student. A fine, beautiful, delicious...

I'd arrived even sooner than I thought. I sidled in in anticipation. It was fairly packed. Popular place she chose, I thought. I looked around. There were a fair number of women a bit older than she, but of similar predicaments of creeping adiposity. Thin, as well, but not stand out clientele in my eyes. Just as I was about to head to the washroom to check my look, I felt a hand grab my upper arm, and turned me; I spun a 180.

"Hey." Colleen smiled at me, hair freshly cut just below the nape of her neck. It was so much to take in at once. I surveyed the faint damage softening her jawline a touch, cheeks a bit more cherubic, but still svelte. I scanned from head to toe; it was unspoken that it was expected, but there Colleen stood to give me a moment to come to my senses. Her burgundy blazer added a few years to her look. Or maybe it was the fact that the sleeves, albeit small, showed absolutely no sign of give; they enveloped and supported her arms, which I imagined now to be exquisitely soft and supple, judging even from her instagrams of six weeks prior.

I moved to her chest. This was the star attraction for Colleen. The saving grace. The if nothing else. The justification for her accelerating fall from grace. And what a justification it was. Colleen's breasts pressed together, her D's easily earning an A from this teaching assistant's estimation.

Beyond that, her shirt devolved into a mess of ruffles. There was a complete obfuscation of the truth here, likely just as she wanted it. There was, however, a belt that spanned across midwaist that achieved a remarkable thinness for her, indicating as though almost nothing had happened since she was first hired.

If before Colleen was flirting with denial, now she was heavily making out with it. She still apparently sucked it in 24/7, but now it was turning into a real effort – with the obscure top acting as a failsafe. Hundreds and thousands of Starbucks calories coursing through her body every single day finally exhausted her body's resilience, and it was now resigned to building the Colleen of my dreams. Her rear, even, was faintly outlined by the ruffles of her shirt, belied a derriere nigh-unrecognizable as compared to the stuffed thing kept in relative check by her leggings when they were new. These leggings seemed a touch more translucent. Or, more, lately, simply stretched that much more to the test.

Finally I looked back into her eyes, the whole scan taking place in the span of a few seconds.

"Good to see you again." I nodded.

"Guess it had to be sometime, huh," she said. Her breathing already sounded rather constrained.

"Well I mean, I guess, unless you didn't come back or something. Happens more than you think at Starbucks." We both laugh.

"So.... did you wanna... play pool?" Colleen was already intent on avoiding the baby elephant in the room.

"Sure. Come here often?" I offered, trying to make her feel less conscpicuous.

"Actually yeah, I do. Well I mean, I used to," she said.

I tilt my head a little as we take turns on the table. "Why not anymore?"

"No reason, just happened." Colleen stated, a tad apprehensively.

"Yeah, cool..." I trailed off, not sure what to say without provoking her. She answered my thought anyway.

"Just wanted to see an old friend. He's the bartender," Colleen motioned her head towards the guy on bar. He seemed about her age. Proficient with the stagecraft of drink making, apparently.

As I lined up my next shot to get the 7 stripe in the left corner pocket, I noticed Colleen grab something out of her bag; she low key unwrapped and popped it in her mouth.

"What's that?" I chided.

"Oh... Justin's chocolate peanut butter cups. Why not, right?"

So now she was taking stuff from Starbucks for later? Why not, indeed, I suppose.

Colleen kept glancing at the bartender as we played. Finally, five turns later, I addressed it.

"So, you going to say hi to him, I guess? Name?"

"Mark. And yeah, for sure. Let's just finish this game."

We kept chatting smaller talk; what she was up to (besides stuffing herself, apparently); how work was; how we missed her at work.

Over the coruse of the game, we ordered a pitcher. Colleen was a fish, drinking three quarters of the pticher before ordering another. I wondered where she found the space. Her midsection began to swell a little, although she still seemed conscious of exerting what control she could over its overall shape.

Then, unthinking and likely a bit drunk, Colleen did something that accidentally exposed the real extent of the damage. She hopped onto the table to get a hard-to-reach shot. In so doing, a few things happened. First, her ass and thighs spread all over the table, revealing her current state was much more serious that might be suggested by her carefully kept image; second, a bunch of accumulated fat squeezed both above and below her midriff belt as she sought to focus her aim. Lastly, she jumped off the table, and when she landed, everything shook and jiggled. Everything, and for a precious few seconds the complete loss of control betrayed Colleen's true profile as a girl who was beginning to pile it on both rapidly and without restraint. I was utterly transfixed.

Colleen was something different, now. She was, well and truly, incontrovertibly, and with immense pleasure and sensuality – still, gradually, yet oh-so-surely, becoming a fat girl.

Shortly after, she looked at me with a look of demureness and a look of sensuality I'd never seen on her before, the image burned on my mind to this day.

"Let's go see Mark," she said, the faint smell of her beer breath intoxicating my nostrils.
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Old 03-01-2018, 02:13 PM   #6
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 42
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Colleen strode with as much eloquence as a fairly drunk woman in her mid-20s tightly contrained by relatively sudden weight gain could muster. Her bosom made tiny jumps with each footstep; as she began to get slightly sloppier as the night wore on, her stomach began to push over and under her belt, and she began to pay less and less heed to the ritual keeping up of appearances which must have come to haunt her every waking moment, mounting pressure day by day of her own duress.

"Hey Mark!" Colleen yelled exuberantly. It would have been awkward were it not do generally loud and busy. I saw Mark glance over and raise his eyebrows. I, awkwardly, stood a little distance away, unsure whether to interfere with the little reunion.

They talked, but I couldn't hear much. Niceties. A short time in, the conversation seemed to move briskly on to Colleen's growing bust. She stuck it out a little, smiling. I inched closer, wanting to be privy to the exchange.

"... So yeah, I'm just working at Starbucks for now. I love it. Actually this is my boss boyfriend, here please meet him."

Excuse me? Boss boyfriend? Drunk Colleen was even more fun than usual.

"Hey," I said, waving awkwardly.

"Hold on, I just have to go to the bathroom," Colleen shouted in my ear, drunkenly grabbing on to me for support as she got off the stool and walked off to the washroom. Naturally, I couldn't help but state yet again, but then I realized Mark was looking at me. I turned around.

"So how long you known Colleen for? Just at Starbucks?"

I nodded. "Yeah. She's great at her job." I didn't know what else to say.

"I've known Colleen since high school. Such a sweetheart. Gotta say though, I almost didn't recognize her coming in."

"Oh, um, why's that?" Of course I knew why. My ears turned oh so sightly red.

"Well uh, how shall we put this... and uh, no offense to you or anything, but let me tell you, I know Colleen, and she's definitely looking a little more like a, uh, grande blonde these days. Never saw that coming. That outfit? Fooling no one. Relationship weight, I guess? You guys actually an item?"

"Ah, kinda." You could put it that way.

Mark winked, drying some glasses. "Gotcha."

Not sure if he totally got it, but it was a complicated relationship, to put it lightly. I continued.

"Well you know, she's a hard worker and who am I to judge. Juggling university with work is a game that too many people make seem easy," I replied cooly. This guy was a little rude, but I guess it was his idea of boys' talk. Mark tilted his head, trying to figure me out.

"I mean don't get me wrong, I do hope she starts taking better care of herself," I added, hastily. Did he already realize I was an aficionado of the avoirdupois?

"... Yeah, alright. Just watch it man. I've seen girls like that struggling when they do care. And when they stop caring? They just –" Mark made a shape with his hands denoting Colleen's figure – "blow up right before your eyes. You don't want to go in too deep with a girl like that, to be brutally honest."

I looked down, desperately wanting to tell him that was the hottest thing I'd heard all year. Two more drinks and I might have.

"Just telling you what I've seen, been nursing a lot of lonely girls' drinks for a few years now. Anyway, just being forthright. Good to meet you buddy, good luck and take care of her for me." Mark turned away, beckoned by a new group at the other end of the bar.

Colleen then came striding back, as if on cue, seeming to catch her second wind of the evening. Observing every inch of her visage and elsewhere, she truly was gorgeous, and Mark's comments only fueled my passion for her growing form. I idly observed her tight sleeves and wondered if she was ever going to take that blazer off.

Again, she seemed to read my inner narrative like a book.

"It's so hot in here!" She yelled again, in my ear. She was a loud drunk. "Care to do the honours?" She smiled, turning her back towards me, arms out, signalling me to unwrap the first layer towards her indelible curves. I had half a mind to just put my arms around her waist instead, right there...
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Old 03-01-2018, 02:13 PM   #7
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 42
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As gently as I could, I tugged and pried off Colleen's jacket. My fingers pressed into her lush upper arms as I did so; as they slowly revealed themselves, I wondered just how she was able to pack those into their sleeves in the first place. It would have been quite a sight just to see her get it on.

Sure enough, the first real indication in the flesh of Colleen's burgeoning, redoubling appetite was an almost unbelievable sight if, like, Mark, you last saw her before her whole Starbucks saga. At 5 ft 7, Colleen was rather average of height; from my experience, assuming her most pleasantly round and soft arms offered a solid hint, I would have guessed she was now weighing in at perhaps 180 pounds, with a good ten of those arriving in the past six weeks or so, having started at 155 upon our interview, when no one would disagree she was thin, yet even then was facing some tiny troubles. So, taking several months for the first ten or so, and a little over a handful of weeks for the last ten or so. The latter pace ought to be alarming her, I thought. Of course, this was all conjecture, but I admit it is educated.

Indeed, Colleen had crossed the line into chubby territory, and although Mark noticed the stark difference all at once, and I knew her coworkers might notice, it wasn't altogether a shocking change. Just a shift. A shift in attitude and demeanor, opening the door to bigger and better things...

Finally, I broached the topic with her as we took a seat at the bar again.

"So you were going to show me how bad it is? I don't see anything bad here, Colleen. I just see a beautiful young woman." I got more aggressive as the drinks and night wore on, as unfortunately I can be wont to do.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay. Well that might be what you see, but what I feel is a belt that feels like it's going to pop off."

I grimaced. I wasn't sure where to lead the conversation. "Well um... if you need more time off..."

"No!" She got angry with me for the first time. I was taken aback. "I took six weeks off and all I have to show for it is FOURTEEN friggin extra pounds!" She suddenly looked shocked, as if she didn't mean to admit that particular bit of info. I realized my estimate may have even been on the low side.

"Collen, I – "

"It's the god damned card, ok? I can't – this is so stupid. I'm sorry - I have to go. Here's the card. You can tell them I quit the stupid eat everything at Starbucks program, I don't care."

Colleen rummaged the card out of her bag and shoved it in my hands.

She got more quiet. "Look, I'm sorry, I – see you tomorrow at work. I'm sorry." She started to leave.

"Colleen, wait!"

But that was that. I thought things were going one way, and she just snapped. I debated sending her a text, but decided I would just give her space, and I'd see her at work.
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Old 03-01-2018, 02:14 PM   #8
Join Date: Aug 2009
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chrissy has said some nice things

The next day, it was already evident that Colleen was on a strict regime designed to attempt to reverse the burgeoning gain that she had allowed herself to indulge in. She drank strictly black coffee and I had never seen her eat or drink anything else.

Her coworkers noticed, but decided it wasn't so noticeable it was worth discussion, I found. I personally made it a strictly out of bounds topic of discourse with her, lest I completely ruin the goodwill I had slightly tarnished that night.

It was a classic crash diet. To Colleen's (and my) apparent delight, her chest didn't budge, remaining the alluring D cup package they had blossomed into during her months-long Starbucks binge. Over a course of several weeks, she managed to eventually shed what looked like perhaps ten pounds or so. It looked as though my poor debit card had taken a thrashing for nothing, were it not that I knew that such quick weight loss couldn't possibly be sustainable. That, and it seemed that no matter what she did, she couldn't get back down to what I think of short-hand as her "interview weight."

Moreover, a problem area had ended up being more pronounced, and it wasn't as conventually lucky as retaining weight on the chest: Colleen's flared-up lovehandles stubbornly held on to her body, no matter how many cardio routines or intermittent fastings she apparently did.

I felt somewhat resigned that this would be the end of this little experiment; I still dared not actually date or even try to court Colleen seriously for fear of repercussions – if we ever broke up. I knew she could be a vindictive vixen, unhesistant to try to lay blame on the other party – and she would have a point if she ever reported some of the odd cheque writing going on at our little coffee shop.

In August, it took a turn for the curious. It turned out, Colleen informed me, that she'd gotten an evening job waitressing at Arlington.

I sighed. It was a foggy, pre-fall Sunday. "Through Mark?"

"Yep, of course."

"So.... am I cutting you here or?"

"Oh well if you wanted to keep me here Sundays still, I wouldn't say no to that" she replied, cutely.

"I see." I scratched the stubble of my shadow. If asked I'd say it was a new look I was trying, but the truth was it was a product of laziness and exhaustion.

"Less Colleen isn't a thing I like," I continued.

She turned her head sideways and put her hands on her hips again, as she does. I noticed them enter her side flesh with a thickness and density not unlike a good memory foam. She was still thick where it mattered.

"Well, you know they have a lot of great craft beers and apps there, so come on by and you'll be seeing more of me before you know it," she offered, shooting me a vaguely sexy look. How I yearned to see more of her again.

In that moment of my sexual frustration with Colleen, I decided to dare bring the forbidden subject up.

"Well you know, things are going to be so busy again this fall..."

"Yeah?" Colleen looked puzzed. I paused.

"Yeah and uh, so –"

" – I don't want the card." Colleen shook her head seriously.

"I wasn't going to say that! I know it's touchy –"

"You're damn right it's a touchy subject. I mean – ugh. Haven't you had to cancel it yet?"

"I can't just cancel it... I've been using it myself to get coffee." Lies, lies, lies.

"Anyway, I don't think it's a big deal, Colleen," I continued, attempting to be the voice of reason.

She paused. "Ok. You're right. I just wish I wasn't so god damned helpless when it comes to the lemon loaf.... haha."

"You uh, tried the raspberry lemon?" I said, sensing the mood lightening.

"Well... just between you and me..." Colleen crossed her legs slyly, "I... may have had one this morning. That was too squished coming in the shipment to sell."

"Ah, mistake food is the best food." I grinned. I thought of all the mistake food that might get made at Arlington. Not a safe job choice for one who falls too easily for food and liquor...

"Seriously, Colleen. I always say this, but you look great. And it was true before and it's true now. Just be true to you," I vaguely offered.

Colleen heaved a deep sigh. "Okay. Okay, thank you. To be honest I've been hurting a little for money still thanks to tuition. Maybe I'll – maybe I'll use the card for a week. But you have to keep me in line, mister. Keep me accountable. Or I'll go off the deep end. And you don't like me when I'm angry."

To be honest, I kind of did. Still, obviously, I nodded along.

"I want to thank you for listening to all this bullshit. Girl can't keep it together."

"Aw, Coll, don't say that. Whatever." She came in and hugged me; I lightly, discreetly took the opportunity to rest my hands across her sides a little.

They were so exquisitely soft. Pliable.

I felt her breathing was stilted.

Was she sucking it in again?
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