BBW Cease and Desist

************************** CHAPTER 1 **************************

I'm sitting on the park bench. Eating a hot dog with my right hand, holding my small dog on a leash with my left hand.

A girl walking her white poodle walks by, she says "Wow, that's my favorite dog!"

"Oh, thanks, he's--"

"No, not that dog, that dog!"

I pause for a moment.

"Oh, yeah," I say, pointing to the food with my left hand, "it's the all new grande hot dog supreme from REDACTED!"

She then grabs my half-eaten hot dog and eats a large bite out of it, the look on her face as if she just came in her pants (I guess this is just what commercial directors think people look like when they eat). She finishes the hot dog, "mmmm...got any more where that came from?" she says. My dog then lets out a loud, high pitched "BARK!"

The promo comes up,

The all new....grande hot dog supreme! For a limited time only, only at REDACTED!

We then hear the characteristic DONG of the bell.

At least, that's how the commercial is supposed to play out. In reality, though, everyone hits the "skip ad" button before the whole thing pans out. And rightfully so, it's a really dumb, awful, painfully stupid joke.

I wake up on the park bench again. The same hot dog in my hand. The same girl walks by, "Wow, that's my favorite dog!" she says. "Oh, thanks, he's--" "No, not th--"

Then reality cuts out. And next thing I know, I wake up on the park bench again. The same hot dog in my hand. The same girl walks by yet again, "Wow, that's my favorite dog!" "Oh, thanks, he's--" "No, n--"

And again. Over and over again. "Wow, that's my favorite dog!" This is my life. "Oh, thanks, he's--" Doomed to repeat the same events over and over. "No, not that dog, that do-" With no end in sight. At least until REDACTED realizes how poorly the ad is doing, and inevitable takes it down.

So far, the only time the ad has actually played to its entirety was when it was originally played by the producers, before being sent to a video streaming service to show before their videos. I've played out the exact same motions 189 times, and every single person so far has hit skip ad as soon as they humanly could. That's actually kind of impressive, if I'm being honest.

But, I continue playing out the motions. Every once in a while, people will actually watch to the end. I guess because they're either asleep, apathetic, doing something else and listening to this in the background, or maybe they're just so stupid they actually find this to be entertaining.

It's been about an hour since the ad first launched. An hour in real life. With this site having over a billion hours of watch time every day, and each ad lasting about 6 seconds, that adds up to hundreds of hours of just this one ad in the past hour. From my perspective, I've basically had the same conversation over and over for a month straight.

"Wow, that's my favorite dog!" "Oh, thanks! He's--" "No, not that dog, that dog!" I sit silent for a moment. I suppose I was just expecting the ad to get cut short again, I was caught off guard this time when it wasn't. She clears her throat, "ahem!" "Oh," I speak, "uh, yeah, it's the all new---OW!!!! ssssshhhhHHHHHIT!" I say, having accidentally scraped my finger against the park bench. "Oh, oh my god, are you okay?" she asks, concerned. "Y-yeah, it's just a splinter." "Hold on, I have a first aid kit in my purse."

She grabs a pair of tweezers, tells me to hold still, and gently pulls out the splinter. She then hands me a band-aid. I pull off the brown parts that cover up the sticky bits, but before I can put on the bandage, though, the sticky bits all fold in on themselves. "Um, you got any more where that came from?" I ask her. Then, my dog lets out a loud, high pitched "BARK!"

The promo comes up,

The all new....grande hot dog supreme! For a limited time only, only at REDACTED!

We then hear the characteristic DONG of the bell.

The next thing I know, I'm in the park again. Sitting on the bench again. My dog by my side again. Hot dog in my lap again. But there is a small difference. My left index finger now has a band-aid on it. That's odd, I distinctly remember the commercial cutting out before I had a chance to put one on. "Wow, that's my favorite dog!" the girl says as she walks by. I pause silently. I've just been going through the motions over and over, so I haven't actually taken a moment to look at this girl until now.

She's beautiful.

She has long blonde hair down to her hips. Her teeth are perfect. Her face is gorgeous. She's wearing earrings. She has a white, wavy dress that goes all the way down past her knees. And she's slightly chunky. Not fat, by any means, but definitely plus sized. Her most prominent feature is probably her butt, which sways side to side with every step she takes.

She "ahem"s me again. But instead of continuing the ad like normal, I stand up and feed her my hot dog. Taken aback at first, she leans into it. "Mmmm," she says, "You got any more where that came from?" My dog then lets out a bark, the promo begins briefly, before reality cuts out again.

But since then, things have been a bit different. Like a dream suddenly becoming lucid, I'm now suddenly aware of my own free will.

I wake up on the bench again. I no longer have a band-aid on my finger. It appears I must've taken it off since last time. It's as if I have a life between commercials, and get amnesia every time one starts again. Or maybe someone else's soul is in control between ads, and I'm only in control during those brief 6 seconds or so. Or maybe I don't even have a soul between ads, like some sort of philosophical zombie.

I wonder if I can use this to my advantage, though. It sure would be nice if I had 2 hot dogs instead of one. That way I could finally finish my lunch, and she'd get a whole hot dog to herself. Maybe if I just think real hard about it now, I'll decide next time to buy 2 hot dogs.

"Wow, that's my favorite dog!" the girl says, walking her poodle again. "Thanks! He's--" "No, not that dog. Tha--"

It wake up on the bench again. To my dismay, I only have one hot dog. There's gotta be some way to make this work, though, right? "Wow, that's my favorite dog!" the girl says, walking her poodle again. I, meanwhile, pull out a blue pen and start writing on my arm, 'buy 2 hot dogs'. "What are you doing?" she asks. Just as I start thinking of a way to explain this to her, the skip ad button cuts us short again.

I once again awake on the park bench. This time, I actually do have 2 hot dogs. The pretty girl walks by again. "Wow, that's my favorite dog!" "Oh, thanks, he's--" we go through the motions again. Only to be skipped again. I keep doing this, though, curious to see what happens. My arm still says, "buy 2 hot dogs", so every time I come back, I have 2 hot dogs. After another 56 skipped ads, someone finally decides to watch it all the way through. And when we get to the part where she's supposed to steal my dog, she takes both hot dogs. And gobbles them both up in one felt swoop. Both the half eaten one and the not even touched one, consumed in mere seconds. "Mmmm...got any more where that came from?" Then, my dog lets out a loud, high pitched "BARK!" again, and the promo pops up again.

The next time around, she walks by again. "Wow, that's my favorite dog!" I don't even look up. I instead lick my hand, wipe away the 2 on my arm, and write 5. "Oh, not this again," she says. "WAIT, YOU REMEMB--" I ask, before the ad cuts out again.

At some point, the stars align again. The ad plays to completion. After we get to the point where she steals my hot dogs, sure enough, she eats all 5 of them. And quickly, too. She sucks the flavor off her fingers, then asks, "got any more where that came from?" Yikes, how many does she want? "BARK!" my dog says.

I wake up again on the bench. "Wow, that's my f--" I quickly stand up, "Quick, how many hot dogs do you want?" "Um, what?" she asks, confused. "E-every time we do this, you eat all my hot dogs, and then you're hungry for more. H-how many should I get for you?" She blushes, "Oh, well...I guess, as much as you got, really. I'm a hungry girl," she giggles, patting her small paunch, "I don't really get full."

The next time around, I quickly change the 5 on my arm to a 20. She giggles, "why do you keep writing on your arm?" she asks. "I'm writing a note to myself for after the ad ends." "Wait, there's an...after the ad ends? I thought we were just on an endless loop." "Apparently not. I'm writing a note to myself to buy 20 hotdogs for you next time instead of 5." "Really?! That's so thoughtful!! I--" the ad then cuts out.

"Wow, that's my favori--" she starts, but I quickly stand up and hand her all the hot dogs. "W-what are you doing?" "In case we don't make it to the end of the ad, I figured I'd just hand you the hot dogs right away." She gasps, "Thank y--"

The ad cuts out again. No matter. "Wow, that's my f--" I stand up again and quickly hand her the hot dogs. Giggling, she starts gobbling them up. "By the way, thanks for helping with the splinter." "[NOM] No problem" she says with her mouth full, "So...are we gonna be doing this every time?" "I mean, i-if you want to?" "Well, it's just...won't we get in trouble?" "...In trouble with who?" She ponders for a moment, "I guess you're right. In that case [NOM] could you start adding toppings?" "Sure! What would you like?" "Well, I like ketchup, and mustard. I'm also a fan of relish. Ooh, and cheese! I LOVE cheese! Oh, and could you--" reality cuts out again.

So, as per her request, we continue this routine. She starts her corny catchphrase. I stand up, then she begins happily stuffing her face with my wieners. We never reach the promo, and the ad really only ends when the viewer gets impatient and presses skip ad. At some point, I have to change the 20 on my arm to a 50, because sometimes she actually will finish all 20 of them. God, could you imagine what people must be thinking when they see this ad? A lot of times, the ad goes on for way longer than the initial 14 second time constraint, which I imagine must cause all kinds of bugs.

Over time, the effects of her hot dog binge start to show. She's gone from chunky to chubby, then from chubby to fat. At this point, I can see the outline of her belly button as her fat tummy bulges out against her dress. Her dress, which used to be loose fitting and flowy, is now tight as it presses against her newly developed fat. Her breasts, once modest in size, are now practically bursting out of her cleavage line. Her butt and thighs, which were already pretty sizeable, now not only sway as she walks, but seem to wobble as well. She even seems to be growing an adorable little double chin under her once thin jawline. Despite how much plumper she is now, she's still just as beautiful as she was when all this started. God, am I falling for this woman?

"Wow, that's my favorite dog!" She says as she walks over. She then leans over and starts shoveling hot dogs into her mouth. I really can't imagine what the viewer must be thinking. Jesus, even when she's gorging herself, though, she still looks pretty.

Do I even have a chance with her? I doubt she'd ever go out with a guy like me. I'm just the scrawny, awkward, pathetic loser they put in commercials to make other men feel macho by comparison. And she's the sexy, sauntering lady who's supposed to distract the part of your brain that would realize it's being manipulated to eat a hot dog at REDACTED. I'm already spending the rest of my life with her, so what if she says no? That'll make every commercial after this one feel really awkward.

"Whatcha thinkin about?" she asks cutely. "Um...I, well, I, was...um, I was gonna ask you a question." "Oh really? What were you gonna ask me?" "Well, I, uh...well, um, you see..." I start sweating nervously. She looks at me curiously. I keep stuttering. God, this is going terrible. There's only one thing to do. "Got any more where that came from?!" I say in a loud panic. "What?" She asks, at the same time my dog barks and we cut to the promo,

The all new....grande hot dog supreme! For a limited time only, only at REDACTED!

We then hear the characteristic DONG of the bell.

That definitely could've gone better. Next thing I know, I'm on the park bench again. "Wow, that's my favorite dog!" she says, before once again leaning over and gobbling up my sausages. Her belly bulges out as she does so, drawing attention to her increasing girth. Her boobs hang down, and I find myself distracted by how they spill over her cleavage line. "So hey, [NOM] what wash it you wanted choo ashk me?" she asks with her mouth full. "Oh, I, uh...well, you see..." she looks at me, fluttering her eyelashes. I continue, "I kinda forgot what I was gonna ask..." "Well, maybe you'll remember it later" she says, giggling cutely. I chuckle nervously.

If I ever wanna ask this girl out, I'm gonna have to clean up my appearance. I pull out my pen so I can write a list of things to do. What first? Well, for starters, I should probably shave this ugly starter mustache. What else...oh, I should probably ditch the jeans and T-shirt and start wearing a suit. I mean, she's already in a nice dress, I might as well have similar attire when I finally go on the date. If we go on a date. I should also start using mouth wash. On that note, maybe use more deodorant? Do girls like cologne? I've heard mixed things. I should also trim my nails.

While I'm busy writing this all on my arm, something happens to my right. The seams on the sides of her dress burst open. "Oops!" she says, "hey, you mind if I borrow that pen real quick?" she asks. I hand her the pen. She sits down next to me, causing her dress to tear even further. She writes on her left arm, 'buy a bigger dress'. She thinks for a moment, then writes under it, 'bring a pen to the park'. "Thanks!" she says, handing it back to me.

The next commercial rolls around. I'm on the park bench again. But this time, I feel different. I'm clean shaven. My breath feels fresher. My pit stained T-shirt and jeans combo has been replaced with a tailored suit. The girl walks over, this time wearing a dress more accustomed to her new size. "Wow, that's my favorite dog!" she introduces herself, before she begins eating again. "Hey," she speaks after swallowing her third dog, "what'sh with the suit?" "Oh, this? I, uh, I just kinda felt like wearing this today, I guess." "I like it! It's cute!" I blush. "So, uh, hey, I finally remembered what it was I was gonna ask you." "You do! That's great! What was it?" Just then, the ad skips again.

I now see a major flaw in my plan. Even if she says yes to the date, it'll be no use if someone skip-ads us halfway through. I need to wait around for someone willing to watch all the way through. "Wow, that's my favorite dog!" she says, leaning over to gobble up more hot dogs. "Hey, by the way, [NOM] you were gonna ashk me shomething?" "Oh, um, I forgot again." She giggles, "Oh well! Maybe next time!"

The ad gets skipped again.

Each day, we continue our routine. I continue to wear my suit, hoping eventually I'll get my chance to ask her out. As time goes on, though, she keeps growing fatter. And fatter. And fatter. She doesn't seem upset, though. Every time she rips another dress, she just chuckles, shrugs, and writes a note on her arm to buy a bigger one. Speaking of which, I do every once in a while have to rewrite the words on my arm. Because I learned the hard way, if I don't, my dumbass genuinely will forget to buy more than one hot dog.

I think this might finally be it. The ad has gone on for three minutes uninterrupted. In that time, she actually has managed to eat all 50 hot dogs. "Mmm, you got any m--" she says, before quickly slapping her hand over her mouth. "Er, I mean, I'm...sad that there's no more hot dogs left." "Oh...d-do you, do you think I should, maybe, start buying more?" "Would you do that for me?! Oh thank you so much!" she says, grabbing my shoulders, pulling me to my feet, and into a soft, squishy hug, all in one motion.

God, she's really big right now. She's already gone through 4 dresses at this point, and number 5 seems to already be getting tight. Her double chin isn't as modest as it was before, now filling up half the space under her jaw. Not quite covering her neck completely, but it's halfway there.

"So, hey," I speak to her, "I..I think...I, so, I've been wondering..." "yeah?" "Would you, er, well, what I mean is, um...do you, um..." I continue stuttering, I start sweating. Just before I'm finally ready to spit it out, the ad gets skipped.

DAMMIT! I had it! FUCK!

Okay, no one wants to see some guy stuttering nervously for a minute straight. I need to be more confident next time.

"Wow, that's my favorite dog!" she says, before leaning over and stuffing her fat face. I crane forward so I can get a better view of her massive ass sticking out. "Wow, you actually got 100 dogs for me this time! You're so sweet! How'd you bring them all over here?" "Um....I honestly don't remember." She giggles cutely, "well, as long as you keep it up, I'm a happy girl!"

Again, we continue on. I notice that as time goes on, the viewers tend to wait longer to skip the ad. Probably because they're confused as to why they're watching an obese woman gobbling up hot dogs from a park bench. For some, this confusion is only enough to delay the skip a few seconds, while others will wait for up to a minute, presumably just trying to see where the fuck this is going, only to eventually get impatient and give up. Luckily for us, this gives her much more time to stuff her face, without having to constantly stop in between to walk up to the bench and say her iconic catchphrase. And when I say luckily for us, I mean luckily for her, as she's told me personally how much she loves getting more time to eat. Don't get me wrong though, I certainly don't mind her new body. I honestly think she looks just as beautiful now as when this all started out. I also enjoy watching her eat, mostly because I love seeing how happy it makes her. Though I will admit, that's not the only reason...

At some point, I finally get another chance. I actually didn't even realize yet how long the ad had gone on for, I was so busy gawking at her giant, jiggling boobs wobbling around as she eats. Christ, she's gotten so round. That's probably the best way to describe her current shape. Every curve on her now is an outward one, and they're all perfect. She's probably about twice the size she was when I last tried to ask her out. Yet still, just as stunning.

She gulps up the last bite of the last hot dog, savoring every moment of it. She then burps loudly, pats her fat belly, and as if by instinct, starts saying "got any m--" before correcting herself, "erm, I mean, it's crazy how fast 200 hot dogs can disappear." I chuckle. She sits down next to me, the bench creaking under her weight. Her huge ass presses against me. Jesus, that's a huge ass. It's literally propping her up, like a high chair would a child, causing her to stand (well, sit) much taller than me. She looks down at me sweetly, her cute double chin (which now completely swallows up her neck) bulging out as she does so. I feel very intimidated right now. It's okay, just take a deep breath.

I once again try to ask her out. And once again, I turn into a stuttering mess, before the ad cuts out again.

Time goes on. She rapidly gets fatter and fatter. I keep trying to ask her out, and fail every single time.