~BBW (Multiple), Teen Drama, Romance, Light Sex, ~SWG - Plump Kira takes a job at a fast food joint, while dreams swirl about major unexpected changes in her young life.
[Author's Note: A new story, a departure from my last one, but I figured I'd give a more traditional story a try.]
Part 1 - Daughter of Anarchy
Two years ago Kira’s parents went through a messy divorce that involved heavy lawyer fees, dozens of photos by private investigators, her mother’s art films from high school, and a lengthy custody battle. The result of the divorce left Kira in her mother’s new apartment in the part of town that she was generally warned to never set foot in after dark. She was sixteen when the divorce started and eighteen when all was said and done. To look at her now one could scarcely tell they were the same girl.
Her alarm clock blasted a cover of Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good”, but failed to raise the dirty blonde-haired girl from her sleep. Eventually after her iPod cycled through to a Sex Pistols’ song she awoke. She groggily walked to her bathroom, yawning and wiping the sleep from her eyes. She pulled the overshirt she preferred to sleep in over her head and slid the tight cotton boy shorts off. She then got in the shower and prepared to make the necessary preparations for the day. During the routine she almost fell asleep twice; luckily she caught herself before she slipped, there were a number of ways she wanted to die and none included in a shower.
As she stepped out of the shower making sure she dried off any of the places she might have missed in her first go over. She threw the towel over the top of her shower and stood in the bleakness of her bathroom staring at her exposed form in the mirror. It was only a half mirror so she had to stand back a bit to take in all of herself. She began at the bottom noticing that her calves had become much fuller and sturdier looking. She then moved up to her thighs after the first year of her parents’ divorce started to touch slightly, now they left no room and rubbed every time she walked. She turned around, and sighed softly as she had noticed that even the slightest motions now sent ripples to through her body.
As she looked over shoulders into the mirror to notice what had become of her former taut behind. Now it is what rappers would classify as a badunkadunk, and if it were not for the rest of her body she could be a video girl and be sprayed with forty ounces. While she had a big butt, her hips were surprisingly narrow, and thus her butt was more fat than wide. Her neck creaked up a notch to take stock of the slight amount of fat that had accumulated on her back. She turned back around and stared at the one thing that she hated the most.
She absentmindedly fingered her stomach, pushing the pliable fat in all directions, lifting it up and dropping the fat to see how long it would shake after five seconds. Her belly had taken the brunt of her gain, and genuinely poked out of her shirts; none that she could find any more would cover it completely. She poked her bellybutton, her finger going in a joint and a half. She then moved up to her breasts, the smallest feature of her figure, a fact she bemoaned. She often thought she was a fat girl without the one great benefit of being one.
After looking at her breasts, she finally moved to her face, which had been the only part of her body that remained unchanged, except for the hint of a double chin forming. Despite all of her curves she always reveled in the beauty of her face. Her face looked like a mix between Marilyn Monroe and Julianne Moore. She was a knock out before and she still was a beauty as far as her face was concerned.
After looking over herself, she glanced to the corner of her bathroom and noticed her scale. She had switched the roles of fats in her diet and her scale, using the latter sparingly. It had been four months since she had weighed herself, a traumatic experience where she vowed to take the accursed thing to a field and jump on it using her mighty bulk to cause the devil machine to buckle and crack. She never did do it because where was she going to find a field?
If she had any alcohol she would have poured herself a shot before stepping on it, so in lieu of a stiff drink she breathed in deeply and put one pudgy foot forward. The scale creaked and she cringed as she put her second foot forward. She leaned her head forward trying to see the numbers, but found her view partially blocked by her belly. So, she bent forward to see the numbers spin wildly pass one hundred, then one fifty, finally resting on one seventy. She gasped and jumped back.
“How can this be?” she wondered. “I only weighed one fifty a few months ago. How could I gain twenty pounds in four months? That’s impossible, the scale must be broken.”
However, if she was being honest with herself she would have realized that all the extra snacks she had been eating had to count for about five or six pounds. Her laziness, lack of exercise, and hours of watching TV and playing video games added about seven pounds. The last eight pounds probably came from her mother’s fattening meals, and her subsequent insistence on seconds and even thirds.
So why not do this analysis? Because it would require her to look for the cause of her binge eating, and that amount of introspection she did not have time for. She had to be at school in about thirty minutes and still had to put on her make-up and get ready.
“KIRA!” her mother yelled from down the hall. “You gotta be to school in ten minutes, you ready?”
“Yeah, just give me a second,” Kira said, pulling a black hoody over her head and stumbling out of her room.
“Here, I heated you up some pop tarts; eat them on your way. Now go!” Her mother handed her a paper plate with two s’more-flavored pop tarts. Kira threw her backpack over a pudgy shoulder and grabbed the plate from her mother.
Kira gave her a kiss and made her way out of the front door. She slammed the door to the two bedroom apartment, and jumped in her car, a new Prius that her father had bought her after the divorce was final; his way of saying he loved her. In actuality it was his way of not having to feel guilty for not seeing his daughter; Kira’s room was filled with trophies just like these for missed birthdays and the like. Before she could start her car her mother ran out motioning to her to roll down her window.
“Remember, you need to look for a job after school today,” she said.
“Yeah, I know, but if I don’t leave right now I’ll be late,” Kira said, throwing her car into reverse and making her way out of her parking spot.
As she began to move, her mother ran after the car and again yelled, “The word for the day is job!”
“Yeah…like getting a job is that easy. I put an application into every electronics store and department store in a five-mile radius, and they are all looking for someone with more experience. Gosh, now I’m going to have to get a job at a restaurant or a fast food joint, the lowest rung of the job scene, but anyone can work there,” Kira thought as she parked in the end of the parking lot at school. She checked the clock before she jumped out her car; she was five minutes late. Grabbing her bag, she made a dash for her first period class.
Out of breath, she arrived at English with Mr. Graithe, who was in mid sentence as she entered. He stopped and gave her a stare; she knew what that meant. If there was one thing he hated it was tardiness; he saw it as a sign of disrespect. Anyone who came in late was subject to standing with the attention of the class on them and explaining why they were late, and for the uninitiated they could be made to stand for upwards of ten minutes because he didn’t want an excuse - he wanted an involved and outlandish story. Kira, knowing the drill, began to think.
“Now, Miss Raous, why are you late to my class?” he asked her, leaning back on the white board and stared at her over the top of his glasses.
“Well you see, sir, I wanted to be on time, I really did, but, you see, as I was driving here I was ambushed.”
“Ambushed? By whom?” he asked, not satisfied.
“By the Yakuza, you see they had mistaken me for someone who owed them money. So, they had two black Hondas that came up on both sides of my car and as they did they rolled down their windows, and threw shurikens at my wheels, causing them to pop. This made me swerve to the bike lane, and as they parked behind me and got out of their cars, they realized I wasn’t who they were looking for. So they offered me to help change my tires, giving me an extra spare as well. That’s why I was late.”
“You sure it wasn’t that you were too busy stuffing your maw to be bothered to be on time?” Daren asked from a seat in the back, causing the class to break into laughter.
“Thank you, Miss Raous, you may take your seat. Mr. Joanes I expect to see you after class,” Mr. Gaithes said, and returned to the white board to continue his lesson. Kira took her seat in the back of the class behind her best friend, Erin. As she sat, Erin turned to chat with her.
“So, why were you really late?” she whispered.
“I accidentally slept in.”
“Ah, I figured as much, you’re such a lazy one.”
“Yeah, I know, but what am I going to do, go to bed earlier?”
“Either that or buy some more alarm clocks.”
“Maybe, so anyway…”
“Miss Raous and Miss Rustler, do you want to come up here and enlighten the rest of the class as to the scintillating conversation you’re having that is obviously more important than learning about Shakespeare’s sonnets?” Mr. Gaithes asked, his brows furrowing as he looked at the two ladies.
“No, that’s alright,” Erin said.
“Very well, if I catch you two talking again, I will see you in here at lunch,” he said.
“And I’m sure you two really don’t want that,” Daren said to the two.
“Oh, shut up, you’re such a jerk, Daren,” Kira whispered.
The rest of the day was boring and dragged until lunch. Kira met Erin in the quad where they left campus to eat lunch, and seeing as they didn’t have a fifth period they didn’t have to worry about being back. They took Kira’s car to a Jax’s down the street. Kira parked and they went in. Looking over the menu the two girls pondered heavily which greasy meal they would ingest. Kira ended up with a double bacon cheeseburger with large curly fries and an Oreo shake, while Erin ordered four large tacos, large steak fries, and a large soda. They took their trays and sat at a table in the corner of the restaurant. The two girls sat in silence while they began to tear into their respective meals.
They had been best friends since middle school, and had been on the cheer squad together until mid sophomore year, when Kira quit because of “family issues”. The truth was that she gained five more pounds and couldn’t fit into the skirt anymore and didn’t want to face the humiliation of asking for a larger one.
Unlike Kira, though, who had just recently become a big girl, Erin was always larger. She quit the squad junior year, or rather when she no longer had Kira to protect her, which allowed the other girls on the squad who didn’t care for her to force her off. However, like Kira in the past few months, she had put on a quite a bit of weight and remained still bigger than Kira.
While Kira was more apple shaped, Erin was more of a classic hourglass with a large bust, wide hips, thick thighs, and a huge ass. In her time she had gotten a few comments about her figure similar to the opening of Sir-Mix-A-Lot’s song about the most prominent feature of her figure. While her weight did tend to settle on her breasts and butt, she did have a noticeable belly.
Kira eyed Erin as she ate and, with her new weight weighing heavily on her mind, she tried to guess if she was larger than Erin. In truth she wasn’t, but the fact that she was only twenty pounds from being as heavy as Erin would have crushed her. Even still, being even close to her friend’s weight depressed her.
“What’s the deal with Daren, why is he such a prick?” Erin asked with a mouth full of fries.
“I don’t know, but if my day consisted of masturbating and crying then I’d be bitter too,” Kira said, taking a bite of her burger; a bit of ketchup dripped on her chin. She grabbed a napkin and dabbed it off.
“Isn’t it hot in that sweater?” Erin asked, curious as to why anyone would wear a sweater on a hot California summer. She was wearing a sleeveless blouse that accentuated her buxomness.
“Nah, I’m actually pretty cold. Anyway, like I was going to say in class, my mom is on my case about getting a job. Everyplace I’ve applied to is looking for someone with more experience. I mean, how I am ever going to get experience if no one gives me a job?” Kira said, sipping her milkshake.
“So what are you going to do? I mean, I’d put in a word for you down at the coffee shop, but they aren’t looking for anyone right now,” Erin said, starting on her last taco.
“I don’t know, I’m definitely going to have to work in a restaurant, I mean they will hire near anyone. Although I’d rather eat my gum than work there, but I gotta do it so my mom gets off my case.” Kira reached for a fry, only to have her fingers hit the bottom of the container. She frowned in disappointment.
“Well, if that’s your plan, why not see if this place is hiring? I mean, you’d probably be a shoe in, and hey if you worked here, you and I could get some free food. You can finally pay me back for all of those free mocha lattes,” Erin said.
“I guess, but I don’t know…”
“C’mon, after we finish we’ll go ask for an application.”
(continued in post 3 of this thread)
A Kira
by None
by None
[Author's Note: A new story, a departure from my last one, but I figured I'd give a more traditional story a try.]
Part 1 - Daughter of Anarchy
Two years ago Kira’s parents went through a messy divorce that involved heavy lawyer fees, dozens of photos by private investigators, her mother’s art films from high school, and a lengthy custody battle. The result of the divorce left Kira in her mother’s new apartment in the part of town that she was generally warned to never set foot in after dark. She was sixteen when the divorce started and eighteen when all was said and done. To look at her now one could scarcely tell they were the same girl.
Her alarm clock blasted a cover of Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good”, but failed to raise the dirty blonde-haired girl from her sleep. Eventually after her iPod cycled through to a Sex Pistols’ song she awoke. She groggily walked to her bathroom, yawning and wiping the sleep from her eyes. She pulled the overshirt she preferred to sleep in over her head and slid the tight cotton boy shorts off. She then got in the shower and prepared to make the necessary preparations for the day. During the routine she almost fell asleep twice; luckily she caught herself before she slipped, there were a number of ways she wanted to die and none included in a shower.
As she stepped out of the shower making sure she dried off any of the places she might have missed in her first go over. She threw the towel over the top of her shower and stood in the bleakness of her bathroom staring at her exposed form in the mirror. It was only a half mirror so she had to stand back a bit to take in all of herself. She began at the bottom noticing that her calves had become much fuller and sturdier looking. She then moved up to her thighs after the first year of her parents’ divorce started to touch slightly, now they left no room and rubbed every time she walked. She turned around, and sighed softly as she had noticed that even the slightest motions now sent ripples to through her body.
As she looked over shoulders into the mirror to notice what had become of her former taut behind. Now it is what rappers would classify as a badunkadunk, and if it were not for the rest of her body she could be a video girl and be sprayed with forty ounces. While she had a big butt, her hips were surprisingly narrow, and thus her butt was more fat than wide. Her neck creaked up a notch to take stock of the slight amount of fat that had accumulated on her back. She turned back around and stared at the one thing that she hated the most.
She absentmindedly fingered her stomach, pushing the pliable fat in all directions, lifting it up and dropping the fat to see how long it would shake after five seconds. Her belly had taken the brunt of her gain, and genuinely poked out of her shirts; none that she could find any more would cover it completely. She poked her bellybutton, her finger going in a joint and a half. She then moved up to her breasts, the smallest feature of her figure, a fact she bemoaned. She often thought she was a fat girl without the one great benefit of being one.
After looking at her breasts, she finally moved to her face, which had been the only part of her body that remained unchanged, except for the hint of a double chin forming. Despite all of her curves she always reveled in the beauty of her face. Her face looked like a mix between Marilyn Monroe and Julianne Moore. She was a knock out before and she still was a beauty as far as her face was concerned.
After looking over herself, she glanced to the corner of her bathroom and noticed her scale. She had switched the roles of fats in her diet and her scale, using the latter sparingly. It had been four months since she had weighed herself, a traumatic experience where she vowed to take the accursed thing to a field and jump on it using her mighty bulk to cause the devil machine to buckle and crack. She never did do it because where was she going to find a field?
If she had any alcohol she would have poured herself a shot before stepping on it, so in lieu of a stiff drink she breathed in deeply and put one pudgy foot forward. The scale creaked and she cringed as she put her second foot forward. She leaned her head forward trying to see the numbers, but found her view partially blocked by her belly. So, she bent forward to see the numbers spin wildly pass one hundred, then one fifty, finally resting on one seventy. She gasped and jumped back.
“How can this be?” she wondered. “I only weighed one fifty a few months ago. How could I gain twenty pounds in four months? That’s impossible, the scale must be broken.”
However, if she was being honest with herself she would have realized that all the extra snacks she had been eating had to count for about five or six pounds. Her laziness, lack of exercise, and hours of watching TV and playing video games added about seven pounds. The last eight pounds probably came from her mother’s fattening meals, and her subsequent insistence on seconds and even thirds.
So why not do this analysis? Because it would require her to look for the cause of her binge eating, and that amount of introspection she did not have time for. She had to be at school in about thirty minutes and still had to put on her make-up and get ready.
“KIRA!” her mother yelled from down the hall. “You gotta be to school in ten minutes, you ready?”
“Yeah, just give me a second,” Kira said, pulling a black hoody over her head and stumbling out of her room.
“Here, I heated you up some pop tarts; eat them on your way. Now go!” Her mother handed her a paper plate with two s’more-flavored pop tarts. Kira threw her backpack over a pudgy shoulder and grabbed the plate from her mother.
Kira gave her a kiss and made her way out of the front door. She slammed the door to the two bedroom apartment, and jumped in her car, a new Prius that her father had bought her after the divorce was final; his way of saying he loved her. In actuality it was his way of not having to feel guilty for not seeing his daughter; Kira’s room was filled with trophies just like these for missed birthdays and the like. Before she could start her car her mother ran out motioning to her to roll down her window.
“Remember, you need to look for a job after school today,” she said.
“Yeah, I know, but if I don’t leave right now I’ll be late,” Kira said, throwing her car into reverse and making her way out of her parking spot.
As she began to move, her mother ran after the car and again yelled, “The word for the day is job!”
“Yeah…like getting a job is that easy. I put an application into every electronics store and department store in a five-mile radius, and they are all looking for someone with more experience. Gosh, now I’m going to have to get a job at a restaurant or a fast food joint, the lowest rung of the job scene, but anyone can work there,” Kira thought as she parked in the end of the parking lot at school. She checked the clock before she jumped out her car; she was five minutes late. Grabbing her bag, she made a dash for her first period class.
Out of breath, she arrived at English with Mr. Graithe, who was in mid sentence as she entered. He stopped and gave her a stare; she knew what that meant. If there was one thing he hated it was tardiness; he saw it as a sign of disrespect. Anyone who came in late was subject to standing with the attention of the class on them and explaining why they were late, and for the uninitiated they could be made to stand for upwards of ten minutes because he didn’t want an excuse - he wanted an involved and outlandish story. Kira, knowing the drill, began to think.
“Now, Miss Raous, why are you late to my class?” he asked her, leaning back on the white board and stared at her over the top of his glasses.
“Well you see, sir, I wanted to be on time, I really did, but, you see, as I was driving here I was ambushed.”
“Ambushed? By whom?” he asked, not satisfied.
“By the Yakuza, you see they had mistaken me for someone who owed them money. So, they had two black Hondas that came up on both sides of my car and as they did they rolled down their windows, and threw shurikens at my wheels, causing them to pop. This made me swerve to the bike lane, and as they parked behind me and got out of their cars, they realized I wasn’t who they were looking for. So they offered me to help change my tires, giving me an extra spare as well. That’s why I was late.”
“You sure it wasn’t that you were too busy stuffing your maw to be bothered to be on time?” Daren asked from a seat in the back, causing the class to break into laughter.
“Thank you, Miss Raous, you may take your seat. Mr. Joanes I expect to see you after class,” Mr. Gaithes said, and returned to the white board to continue his lesson. Kira took her seat in the back of the class behind her best friend, Erin. As she sat, Erin turned to chat with her.
“So, why were you really late?” she whispered.
“I accidentally slept in.”
“Ah, I figured as much, you’re such a lazy one.”
“Yeah, I know, but what am I going to do, go to bed earlier?”
“Either that or buy some more alarm clocks.”
“Maybe, so anyway…”
“Miss Raous and Miss Rustler, do you want to come up here and enlighten the rest of the class as to the scintillating conversation you’re having that is obviously more important than learning about Shakespeare’s sonnets?” Mr. Gaithes asked, his brows furrowing as he looked at the two ladies.
“No, that’s alright,” Erin said.
“Very well, if I catch you two talking again, I will see you in here at lunch,” he said.
“And I’m sure you two really don’t want that,” Daren said to the two.
“Oh, shut up, you’re such a jerk, Daren,” Kira whispered.
The rest of the day was boring and dragged until lunch. Kira met Erin in the quad where they left campus to eat lunch, and seeing as they didn’t have a fifth period they didn’t have to worry about being back. They took Kira’s car to a Jax’s down the street. Kira parked and they went in. Looking over the menu the two girls pondered heavily which greasy meal they would ingest. Kira ended up with a double bacon cheeseburger with large curly fries and an Oreo shake, while Erin ordered four large tacos, large steak fries, and a large soda. They took their trays and sat at a table in the corner of the restaurant. The two girls sat in silence while they began to tear into their respective meals.
They had been best friends since middle school, and had been on the cheer squad together until mid sophomore year, when Kira quit because of “family issues”. The truth was that she gained five more pounds and couldn’t fit into the skirt anymore and didn’t want to face the humiliation of asking for a larger one.
Unlike Kira, though, who had just recently become a big girl, Erin was always larger. She quit the squad junior year, or rather when she no longer had Kira to protect her, which allowed the other girls on the squad who didn’t care for her to force her off. However, like Kira in the past few months, she had put on a quite a bit of weight and remained still bigger than Kira.
While Kira was more apple shaped, Erin was more of a classic hourglass with a large bust, wide hips, thick thighs, and a huge ass. In her time she had gotten a few comments about her figure similar to the opening of Sir-Mix-A-Lot’s song about the most prominent feature of her figure. While her weight did tend to settle on her breasts and butt, she did have a noticeable belly.
Kira eyed Erin as she ate and, with her new weight weighing heavily on her mind, she tried to guess if she was larger than Erin. In truth she wasn’t, but the fact that she was only twenty pounds from being as heavy as Erin would have crushed her. Even still, being even close to her friend’s weight depressed her.
“What’s the deal with Daren, why is he such a prick?” Erin asked with a mouth full of fries.
“I don’t know, but if my day consisted of masturbating and crying then I’d be bitter too,” Kira said, taking a bite of her burger; a bit of ketchup dripped on her chin. She grabbed a napkin and dabbed it off.
“Isn’t it hot in that sweater?” Erin asked, curious as to why anyone would wear a sweater on a hot California summer. She was wearing a sleeveless blouse that accentuated her buxomness.
“Nah, I’m actually pretty cold. Anyway, like I was going to say in class, my mom is on my case about getting a job. Everyplace I’ve applied to is looking for someone with more experience. I mean, how I am ever going to get experience if no one gives me a job?” Kira said, sipping her milkshake.
“So what are you going to do? I mean, I’d put in a word for you down at the coffee shop, but they aren’t looking for anyone right now,” Erin said, starting on her last taco.
“I don’t know, I’m definitely going to have to work in a restaurant, I mean they will hire near anyone. Although I’d rather eat my gum than work there, but I gotta do it so my mom gets off my case.” Kira reached for a fry, only to have her fingers hit the bottom of the container. She frowned in disappointment.
“Well, if that’s your plan, why not see if this place is hiring? I mean, you’d probably be a shoe in, and hey if you worked here, you and I could get some free food. You can finally pay me back for all of those free mocha lattes,” Erin said.
“I guess, but I don’t know…”
“C’mon, after we finish we’ll go ask for an application.”
(continued in post 3 of this thread)
