After Police Academy

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Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
~BBW~BHM, eating, ~MWG - Recently appointed to the policeforce, two people find that the pace slows down and fat comes a-knocking.

After Police Academy
by Ssaylleb

To resounding clapping and cheering the police graduation ceremony came to an end, unleashing a crop of fresh police officers to patrol the streets of Seattle. After happily accepting the rounds of congratulations from their families, the new officers set off for a well deserved celebratory dinner. The chief topic of conversation was discussion on what roles would be assigned to them. Some craved active duty on the streets, others wished to work at desks to help fight crime and hopefully, eventually, contribute towards the war on terrorism.

Marcia swung her blue VW Golf into the shopping mall underground parking and found her usual slot in the staff-only section. Jumping lithely out of the car she locked it as she walked towards the entrance. As she had done since day 1, she passed by the bagel shop for a coffee before starting, greeting the barista Jill with a cheery smile. She had a simple americano, one sugar as per usual. She sipped it there while reading the newspaper and chatted to Jill and the other customers. At that time in the morning just before the mall opened it was the storeworkers getting their caffeine shot to kickstart the day.

A very down to earth girl, Marcia was unaware of the attention she attracted amongst both the males and females there. In her police officer one-piece outfit she cut a striking figure. Perched on a barstool her little butt rounded out the pants just enough to catch attention, but it was so small that it remained entirely within the shape of the stool. Long blonde hair was caught in pony tail, leaving her delicate neck on view, and her pretty face with blue eyes. When she stood up the police boots added an inch to her 5'6" height and you could tell that she was slim, the suit seemed almost too large for her.

Marcia got up and stopped by the counter to toss her coffee cup in a bin and waved to Jill
"Bye then, nice day Jill"

"And you too, thanks for coming by. Here take a donut to keep you company in your little box." smiled back Jill.

"Oh thanks" replied Marcia reaching for her purse.

"No, this one's on the house Marcia, see you later".

Marcia's little box was her office in the mall, quite literally a shoebox 2 metres deep and 1.5 across. All she had was a large, very powerful computer stacked against the far wall and a desk with her workstation along one wall. Marcia was one of a team of police officers across the State piloting a new technique to fight credit card crime.

The plan was to tap into bank systems "live" so that the police would be alerted the moment a stolen credit card was used. With police officers such as Marcia closer to the scene they could take action, either by making arrests on the spot or through surveillance cameras identifying the criminals for later arrest. Computers on location such as the one in Marcia's office fed back data to a centralised office that collated the information to support the field offices.

She had been on the job for two weeks now, and while some would find it boring, she loved being out in the field working rather than studying or training as she had for so many months. Her monitor took feeds from all the closed circuit cameras round the mall so she could switch between views and check out what was happening without leaving her desk.

So far, if Marcia was entirely honest with herself, it had been more useful to her personally rather than for fighting crime. For instance on her first morning while idly scanning the monitors she spotted a hunk walking out of the sports store. She had skipped from camera to camera, following him (and his cute butt) all the way to his car, a dark Audi TT. People watching had become a favourite past-time of hers, she found herself reaching out to the monitor when a little girl fell over, as though she could have stopped her sliping from hr office.

Another positive point about her work was that the staff in the mall were very friendly. As Jill did, few let her pass by their store without offering at least a greeting and in the case of the eateries a free nibble too. Marcia had started off by refusing these offers for fear of losing her impartiality but over the course of two weeks she reasoned two things. Firstly, if she paid for a meal and the restaurant manager offered her a coffee for free then that may be seen as part of the service towards a good customer. Secondly, the people seemed genuinely nice and as she started to strike up friendships, she felt it churlish to refuse their offers.

As 10.30 rolled around Marcia began to feel peckish. A quick look at the camera showed that the Fruit Basket was quite empty. Perfect, time for a quick snack then, perhaps an apple or a nice ripe peach like she'd had yesterday. Marcia pulled the door shut behind her and set off downstairs. She preferred to use either the escalator or the glass-box elevator as they both allowed her to casually scan the mall, whereas the stairs were hidden in a closed stairwell.

Stepping off the escalator at ground level she made for the Fruit Basket, a small local franchise that sourced produce from local farms and sold it direct to clients. It was very popular as they had amazing fruit and veg, and at very good prices too. Marcia loved it. A heavenly scent hit the policewoman's nose and she immediately saw it came from a waffle stand set up under the elevator. She had not seen it on camera and made a mental note of the blind spot. She also noted the counter overflowing with waffles, some plain, others topped with Nutella, cream, strawberries or a mix of these.

"Good morning officer!" chirped the young guy manning the waffle stand. "What can I offer a prettly lady like you?"

"Oh.... uh..." stammered Marcia, again uncomortable at the chafe of her uniform. In her own skin as Marcia she lapped up the attention and wanted more, fake as it was. Yet by acceping it as an officer surely she was debasing the police force or something? Either way, all thought of the Fruit Basket had left her head and she was sold on the waffle, it was simply a question of which topping.

"I'll have one with nutella please" ordered Marcia, choosing to ignore his flattery.

"One nutella coming then" he said, pouring a huge ladle of the cream chocolate sauce all over a fresh waffle. He handed the confection to Marcia and waved away her proferred $20 bill.

This time Marcia insisted on paying and took back the change. Un-selfconsciously she walked back to her office through the mall, happily munching on the waffle.

At noon she checked the queues at the chinese buffet; as expected the place was very busy with no free tables. With a sigh Marcia kept on working. By 1 pm she was starving and checked again - yay much more space available by now.

She quickly headed up using the lift this time, the escalators took too long. At the buffet she filled a side plate with her choice of starters; 2 each of spring rolls, won tons, dumplings, liberally covered them all in sauce and grabbed a bowl of soup too. She sat and enjoyed eating them, feeling the warm food fill the hole of hunger in her belly. When done she went back to the buffet, this time loading a large plate with fried rice in the middle and then surrounded it with big portions of sweet and sour pork, duck in plum sauce, beef satay, lemon chicken and fried prawns. She returned to her table and dug in with gusto, feeling her belly fill until she wa sated. She was tempted to go for seconds but resisted, stifling a belch. Instead she dithered between lychees and ice cream at the desert counter, before choosing the fruit.

Rising from her table she went over to the counter to pay but the owner Mrs Tueng waved her away with a smile.

"I like to see you enjoy food, you must come whenever you hungry" she said.

"Oh, I can't accept, please let me pay" argued Marcia, stifling another belch. What did she mean she enjoyed seeing her eat?

"No I insist!" exclaimed Mrs Tueng "do not insult me".

"Fine then" replied Marcia, "Thank you very much."

Then she left a $5 bill as a tip.

She took a while to return to her office, strolling slowly through the mall, doing the full round on each floor, nodding to her new friends the store owners and chatting with some of them. Back in her office she plumped down into her chair with a sigh. Wow where had that feeling of lethargy come from?

Thinking back over the last few weeks, Marcia realised that since the graduation ceremony a month ago she had never even been out for a run- before that their training included a lot of physical training with some pretty hardcore coaches busing their asses. Once they graduated they were meant to maintain a certain level of fitness although it was rarely policed. Since graduating she had spent 2 weeks at home doing nothing, waiting for a placement until they had called her to start here.

I'll go for a run tonight she promised herself.

Even as she sat back in her chair and relished feeling full, as her lunch started the process of turning into fat, the amount by which her intake of food had increased did not cross her mind. To be fair, she had always enjoyed eating without watching calories as a high metabolism and active lifestyle kept her slim. Right now though, unknown to her as yet, her metabolism had slowed down from its increased pace as a result of the intense police training, coupled with her inactivity.

- - - -

Peter looked up from his desk to see Lily, one of the three women he shared an office with offering him a slice of sponge cake on a napkin.

"It's Gabby's birthday and she brought cake" said the older woman.

"Oh thanks, I'll pass by and say hi. Er... where does she sit again please?

"It's alright, we are many new faces to learn at once" she smiled. "I'll take you along later".

It was only his second week on the job but Peter already liked it. He had fitted in much more quickly than expected, there really was a camaraderie amongst officers and they respected and already sought out his IT expertise. He had been assigned to work in the centralised office of the new anti credit card theft unit, a mixed bunch of experienced police-men and women coupled with a number of newer recruits with an IT or banking backgound such as himself.

Peter shared an office with three older women, ranging in age from 48 to near retirement, and none of them weighed in at less than 200 lbs. Lily was the youngest, although Nancy looked younger, while Mathilda was the eldest. They took him under wing, making it their business to find out - within minutes of him starting the job - that he had moved to Seattle to enrol in the police academy and had remained single since.

The unit's offices were within a much larger police HQ and the 3 woman were popular long-timers. Accordingly they knew every scrap of gossip, often before it even took place and more importantly were guaranteed to be invited to every cake that was cut in the office.

Peter found that he had a fairly easy time of it. The team's role was to ensure information was passed on quickly between the field offices and to arrange support for them if required. On any day he seemed to eat anywhere between two to six donuts or slices of cake, often brought in by people in different units whom he did not even know. Whenever offered one by his three mums as he had come to think of thm privately, he took it gladly: it never even occured to him to decline. Since his second day, the three women also took it in turns to prepare his lunch, claiming the canteen prices were a rip off for poor quality. In fact he hadn't thought it too bad on his first day, but again, why turn down good free food?

Every evening a bunch from the force, mostly men, headed down to a pub nearby to end the day with a drink or two before heading home. Peter was asked to join on his third day there and now found himslf going along every evening. He disliked his empty apartment, had no reason to go home any earlier than he needed to, which was usually just in time for bed. At the bar they would enjoy a beer or two, and the barman always offered them a selection of peanuts, chicken wings or fries to keep them happy.

Later, when most of the others had gone home, Peter stayed on either with another couple of single officers or alone. They would watch a game or remain chatting while having a supper of burger and chips or a meatpie.

Peter usually walked the couple of blocks home but in the Seattle downpour that evening he took the bus. As he sat down on the bus he felt an unfamiliar feeling at his waist, a discomfort. Reahing down to discreetly scratch the irritation, he was surprised to find a soft, small bulge of flab rolling over his belt. He looked down, more in curiosity than in shock, and confirmed that he must have gained a little weight.

Thinking back over the last few weeks he couldn'treally say he was surprised. Right after graduating he had gone home for a week while waiting to be placed. His mom enjoyed having him home though she was shocked to see how lean he had become with the police training. She overfed him for that week and he made litle protest, then since starting work all he seemed to do was eat all the food that his three new mums placed before him.
Donuts or cakes throughout the day, a heavy lunch and then hiting the bar every day for beer and munchies.

Oh well he thought to himself, I'll just slow it down a little.


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Here's the next part, stay tuned. Comments & feedback appreciated!

The following morning Marcia made her way to the coffee shop as usual.

"Hi Marcia, good morning. Give me a minute I'll get your coffee".

Marcia greeted the other store owners getting their morning coffee before sitting down at a table with the newspaper. Jill soon arrived but her usual plain americano had been replaced with a creamy cappuccino, accompanied by a chocolate muffin.

"Hey, what's this?" asked Marcia in surprise.

"A real start to the day babe!" laughed Jill. Try it, you'll love it.

"I'm sure I will, that's the problem" muttered Marcia.

She stayed on until all the others left to open their stores and there was a quiet period until the first customers entered.

"Thanks for the coffee Jill, and the donuts and muffins you give me, but I need to be careful".

"What do you mean?"

"Well.." Marcia said, embarrassed, tugging at her belt "this is starting to get tighter and being cooped up in here all day I'm not getting any exercise. Last night I planned to go for a run but with the downpour I just didn't feel like. I ended up zoning out in front of the TV with a pizza take out. and that's after I pigged out at Mrs Tueng's buffet at lunch!"

"Oh don't be silly, you're so skinny!" exclaimed Jill. "In any case running in the evening is boring and dangerous, even for a tough cop like you. What you need to do is dance it off. I'm going clubbing tonight why don't you join?"

"Clubbing?!" Marcia thought it over briefly. It had been a long time since she went clubbing. Her last boyfriend was an older guy who was past the party scene and she had dumped him after being accepted to the police academy, part of tossing the shit out of her life and focusing on herself.

"Are you serious? I don't want to impose on you or your friends".

"No it's perfect. My friend just texted to say she's ill with the flu so I was going to go out alone tonight... bore-ing!

"Cool. OK then we'll speak later".


Marcia swung the Golf into her usual slot and got out of the car. An observer might have noticed that she did so a tad less easily than she had when she'd started work some two months earlier. While before she had a supple litheness about her movements, now she seemed slower to move, heavier. She headed to the bagel shop for her breakfast.

"Hey babe, coming up!" called out Jill upon seeing her.

"Morning Jill, thanks hon".

The two had become closer over the last months. Their first night out clubbing together had been a roaring success - apart from the hangover that lasted a weekend - and had been repeated a couple of times.

Marcia was warmly greeted by the other store owners. By now she was very popular amongst them as not only was she an easy going and fun person, but her work had already paid off in catching some five credit card thieves within the mall. In each case she had been instructed not to approach herself but to wait for back up. She had mixed feelings about this as she had seen that not all perpetrators gave in easily; equally she wanted the glamour of a personal arrest.

Jill came over with Marcia's breakfast and they chatted briefly until another customer came in. Breakfast for Marcia used to be toast and a yoghurt at home. Now she still had those but her cappuchino and donut had become a daily affair, despite her feeble protests to Jill. Moreover, she now often took more pastries later in the day whenever she passed by Jill's.

Finishing up, Marcia stood and brushed the crumbs off her uniform. It was distinctly less loose on her than it had been when she had picked it up. Still a good fit, her butt filled the outfit better, and her breasts were a tad larger, giving her a very sexy look. When she sat down however she could feel some of the 15 pounds she had gained bunching over her waist, but the uniform was still large enough to mask her belly. All the men in the room, as well as a few women stared at her ass as she left the coffee shop.

Back in her office she started her routine of checking any reports coming in from HQ and idly scanning the monitors now and again. At 10.00 she started checking the view outside the coffee shop more closely, until she spotted her. A woman had started stopping by almost every day at around the same time. Marcia's interest in this woman was not of a criminal nature. She was fascinated by this woman who seemed to be around thirty-five years old, a few years older than Marcia. She had a very pretty face atop a plump body, and she dressed as though to flaunt her size. Always perfectly made up and smartly dressed in skirt suits, Marcia assumed she worked in an office nearby and took her coffee break here.

What fascinated Marcia was that this plumper would order a large frappuchino with extra cream and two donuts, one with sugar frosting and the other topped with chocolate. Through the cameras, Marcia saw Jill bring out her order and the two women exchanged a laugh. The best part came next, only visible because the woman had unknowingly chosen a seat facing the camera.

The gorgeous woman had a ritual she never varied from. First she scooped some of the cream off the frappuccino and delicately placed the spoon in her mouth, before swallowing the cream. Next she would start on the sugared donut. She took a little nibble first, as though to verify that is was divine. That tiny bite seemed to open her appetite as she devoured the donut in three bites, closing her eyes throughout. Her little pink tongue emerged and licked at her lips, picking off the frosting that remained.

She then continued with the frapuccino, first scooping up more cream then drinking it. She moved to the chocolate donut next. First she picked off the chocolate topping, bit by bit, and let it melt in her mouth. That done, she gobbled the donut again in 3 quick bites then drank the remainder of the frappuccino. Her tongue appeared once more to delicately lick off the cream around her lips.

Wiping her mouth discreetly with a napkin, she would then place both arms on he table to lift herself up. On a day like today where she had no jacket, even through the security system Marcia could make out both her skirt and shirt doing battle to restrain her soft fat belly, which hung forward while she leaned on the table. She then walked to the counter to pay, her high heels making her bubble butt sway with each step, the skirt seams under extreme pressure. With a sigh Marcia turned back to her work, feeling strangely aroused.

If asked the policewoman would be unable to define what it was about the woman that appealed to her so much. It could be that although plump, as she must have been pushing 180 lbs on a 5'2" frame, she was not only very pretty in the face but also carried her weight very well and looked a knockout. Perhaps it was her unashamed appreciation of her food in defiance to society norms: surely at her size she knew that a daily dose of such calorific goodness was the last thing she needed.

With a slight tingle of shock, Marcia realised that she had been rubbing her soft belly roll through her uniform, she was very turned on, and had been moaning softly. Confused and somehow uncomfortable, she needed some air and left her office.

(Continued in post 5 of this thread)


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Thanks Zachi. Any other feedback guys? here's the next 2 episodes... worth continuing?


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
“I got one for you Peter dear. Mike’s kids are in town to visit and his wife Pam – do you know Pam? well she cooked up a storm and he brought lots in”

Peter looked up from his desk to see Nancy holding out a muffin on a paper plate.

“I don’t even know who Mike is, let alone his wife. I really shouldn’t Nancy, but thanks”.

Nancy’s smile fell. “Why not? They are really good”.

“Oh I’ve no doubt they are but I’ve already had a donut this morning from Lily and I need to watch it. See this?” Peter pointed towards his waist and grabbed his belly, which pooched out over his belt, roundly filling out the blue uniform shirt.

“Pah, what are you talking about? You’re growing up is all!” retorted Nancy.

“I’m growing out for sure” replied Peter, ruefully reaching for the proffered muffin “I’ve gained like 20 lbs since graduating”.

“Well it suits you dear; you’re becoming a man”.

Peter preferred not to continue the discussion, surely at 32 he was a man?

Finishing the muffin, he reached down to brush the crumbs off his shirt and again found his belly protruding rather more than he cared to see. His gut poured over the belt like dough forming a flabby roll a couple of inches thick. So much for his decision to ease off the food some weeks ago; if anything he was eating more. The three older women brought in a constant supply of goodies, whether their own home-made delicious treats, or taken from around the office. On any given day he probably ate like at least 6 muffins or donuts or whatever was going round.

Lunch was still provided for by his three mums. Whereas he used to struggle to finish the portions when he first started, now he would clear the plate, and he was certain the portions were getting bigger, though they all denied it when asked.

Peter had started to order in take-out every Friday to help even out the balance which the women appreciated although they all said it was unnecessary. Situated in the city centre they had their choice of food available and enjoyed trying different cuisine each time. Last week was sushi, this week the vote was on Italian so far.

Such an important decision as Friday lunch was not taken lightly and votes started being counted as early as Monday morning, with lots of discussion throughout the week. The women were all very traditional eaters and Peter made it his task to introduce them to a wider range of food. Chinese was OK but sushi was quite a struggle, though they were reluctant converts now.

However they had started to order so much that they did not let Peter pay it all himself. For instance when they had ordered pizza he had listed four, but they insisted he get six, as they explained “we have to offer to the others”.

Fair enough but in fact only 3 slices were handed out which meant that between the four of them they had an extra pizza and three quarters. There were no leftovers.

Other than his rapidly expanding waistline, Peter was very happy at work. The credit card unit had only been set up two months previously in October, now as Christmas drew near it had already proved itself by having placed under arrest several people, with as many again under active surveillance. These were suspected of being part of a larger organised group and the banks had agreed to cover continued losses in the interest of long-term theft reduction.

Peter in particular had put his IT experience to good use by creating an instant messaging system that ensured record-breaking communication between them at HQ, the field offices and the operators within the banks. Although it was purely Peter’s brainchild, he had shared the kudos with the entire unit, some fifteen other people apart from those in his office. In fact there was talk of rolling out the program to other states: great in theory but budget cuts forecast in the new year made this unlikely.

The other problem Peter found was that the dismal Seattle weather really did not encourage one to go running, whether early morning or evening. He knew that he had access to the police gym within the same block where he worked, but he had always preferred outdoor activity to indoors.

As 1.00 rolled around, Mathilda handed Peter a huge serving of lasagna, cooked the evening before and just heated in the microwave.

“Here you go dear, lunch time”

“Oh seriously Math, thanks but that portion is enormous, it’s enough for three hungry people!”

“Oh come on Peter, stop fussing and start eating. I made this specially for you, as you said you missed your mum’s lasagna”.

Faced with such a guilt trip, Peter did what any thirty two year old man would do in his position. He pushed his keyboard to one side, tucked a napkin into his collar and dug in. His mum cooked a mean lasagna but sweet jesus this was a-may-zing! The minced beef was fresh and tasty, ever so slightly infused with herbs. The white sauce was rich and creamy, mingling with the spicy tomato sauce in an explosion of flavours on his tongue, transporting him to culinary heaven.

“Oh mffm gffm mfffm!” gabbled Peter through the food. Then, swallowing it down, “Oh my Mathilda, this is amazing. Don’t ever tell her but I swear this beats my mum’s best effort!”.

Beaming from ear to ear Mathilda passed him a plastic bag “here’s some Parmesan dear. Grated it just this morning, don’t hold back”.

More cheese was the last thing he needed, but this was never going to be a low-cal option so Peter first politely sprinkled some cheese over the steaming pasta, then upended the whole bag, covering the lasagna in the fine white gratings. Peter lost himself in the delicious pasta, taking in one big forkful after another, relishing the feeling of the warm food sliding down his throat, filling his belly, satisfying his hunger.

Given the size of the portion to start off with, Peter was somewhat horrified when he snapped out of his food bubble to realise that he had cleared the plate, wiping the last smears of sauce with bread that he found on his desk. Presumably Mathilda or one of the others had placed there while he was stuffing his face. And now he became aware that they were all looking at him, genuinely happy and satisfied that he had eaten his fill.

Peter sat back and groaned as the pressure in his distended belly made itself felt. He rolled his chair back and patted his overstuffed gut, which now stuck out like a basketball in his lap, stretching his shirt so that the gaps between buttons parted, revealing his white vest underneath. The act of sitting back and patting his belly must have caused the ton of food inside him to move around because before he could stop it he belched a beast that resounded round the office and earned a “Whoa” and some loud chuckles from the cops in the office next door.

“Oh Mathilda, what have you done?” asked Peter, prodding his taut gut.

“It feeds three, I thought you said. Seems like it fed you good enough” said the older woman smiling proudly.

“I think I’m going to pop” said Peter, completely serious “if I move I swear I’m gonna burst”.

The older women laughed happily and covered the work for the afternoon. Peter lay back in a food stupor, groaning now and again and belching quietly until till they brought him a coffee at 4 pm. Even then it took all his concentration just to file away emails to while away time till 5pm when he could escape home to sleep. Then at 4.45 Tim, his senior officer popped his head into the office.

"We're down to Murphy's Pete, you joining?"

There was only ever one answer to that question.


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Marcia was not happy. Halfway through December the mall was decked out for Christmas and packed morning till night with shoppers buying gifts for friends and loved ones. Christmas tunes blared out non-stop on the PA system. Marcia had nothing against the season in general, but this year it made her isolation more pointed.

For as long as she could remember before going to he Academy she had worked for her parents’ company, an office furniture supplier. She started by helping out after school and during holidays, until she joined full time, too impatient to study any further after high school. At first she accepted her dad’s iron rule, but as she gained experience this started to chafe.

To make matters worse, her younger sister Barbara went to business school and then got an MBA, much to her parents’ delight. Marcia was happy for her too, but it rankled when Barbara joined the company as Managing Director under her dad as CEO. Marcia remained sidelined without an opinion, despite her experience in the firm, her familiarity with the customers and suppliers.

Not one to sit and mope, Marcia enrolled to business school and started studying evenings and weekends, until she too graduated. To her dismay her parents discounted her studies as “part-time courses, not a real degree” and continued to let Barbara run the show as their parents started to step back from the daily running of the business.

While she meant well, Barbara tried to implement big business ideas that simply do not work in a Mom & Pop shop. Marcia was livid when she found that their biggest client had been refused credit.

“He’s already fifteen days late Marsh, I’m not throwing good money after bad”.

“He’s always paid us, and he gets his own income at the end of the month. He’s always had extended credit. Do you even realise he’s 25% of our business?” fumed Marcia.

“Well it’s my call, and I’ve made up my mind” replied Barbara smugly

“Fine then. Do it your way. I’m not going to sit here and watch you sink dad’s company”.

And that pretty much was that. Her parents shouted at her and called on her familial duty, her place was in the family business, to support her sister, she was ungrateful and downright stupid. Marcia left home that day and went to stay at her boyfriend Jake’s place.

After a month of fruitlessly searching for jobs in her line, she was blaming the poor economy. Then one of their former suppliers admitted to her that her dad had put out word that he’d stop doing business with anyone who took her on. He also kindly added that Marcia had had a far better handle on the place and that working with her dad’s firm had become a nightmare.

By this point Marcia had also realised that there was no way she could spend her life with Jake. He was lazy, self-absorbed and immature, and aged forty he was not about to change. That evening Marcia saw an advert calling recruits to the police force with business, IT or a banking background.

The next day she applied, and upon being accepted left Jake, firmly but not unkindly. Since then she had never felt so alone in the world, having always been closely surrounded by family. She had called home a couple of times but her mum blamed the company downturn on her absence rather than on Barbara’s ineptitude. At the graduation ceremony she was the only one with no family there. Even that guy Peter from down South, who was now at HQ, his entire family had come up to cheer him on, from plump smiling mum to brother and sister.

Without consciously realising it, her feeling of loneliness led her to seek comfort in her new friend, food. This made easier by her friends running the food court. Jill had lots of seasonal treats on offer and so had more than usual extras to hand out to her friend. Some days she would casually pass by the food court at closing time to see if anyone would offer her something, either Mrs Tueng at the Chinese or the shift manager at the burger joint. Salim at the kebab place often called her, as he did today, in her office at closing time to see if she wanted any leftovers. She did.

Salim set up a new rack of lamb and chicken on the grills every day, and both had to be thrown away at day's end. Salim shaved off all that was left, making two veritable mountains of meat on the grill. Marcia appreciated the free dinner and helped herself to the thin slices, liberally pouring garlic sauce all over the plate. Salim also gave her a couple of pita bread on the side, the whole washed down with a large soft drink. He left her eat by herself while he cleaned the kitchen, so she felt no restraint on her appetite. Thus she ate to her heart's content, dreading the thought of returning to her empty apartment, alone yet again.

She pronged the fork through a pile of sauce-covered meat and shoveled it into her mouth, biting off a chunk of pita bread to go with it. She took one forkful after another, eating mechanically, her mind on her family and their problems and the seemingly impassable rift between her and them. She bore them no ill will and wished to resolve matters. But how, when they wouldn't answer her phone calls nor reply to her texts or emails?

She was shocked into the present when her fork scraped an empty plate. She looked in bewilderment at the plate, now devoid of any meat except for a few thin slivers. Where had the meat gone? Salim came up behind her and cleared the table, saying: "I'm glad I called you, see how hungry you were!"

"I... uh... um..." stammered Marcia, struggling to understand what had happened.

Slowly the penny dropped and she looked down at her belly. Completely bloated her tummy stuck out in her lap - for the first time in her life - beyond her breasts, stretching the top part of her outfit. Pushing herself up slowly she caught sight of her reflection in the glass door of the drinks fridge. Her butt looked bigger than she recalled, it jutted out backwards more than it had before, while her rack was also inflated from her usual. All attention however went to her belly, sticking out like she had swallowed a watermelon, her belt causing a muffintop to roll right around her waist.

She stared at Salim in horror, her tummy too full to even try sucking it in. He smiled back at her. In his country women were considered beautiful when fleshy- a proper belly dancer had a nice fat belly to dance with.

"Uhm.. please.." she faltered "please don't tell anyone about this, I'm really sorry" the plumping up policewoman said in embarrassment.

"Nothing to tell, Marcia, you enjoyed a good dinner. Looks like you needed it, you must have been starving".

Which he may well believe but in fact she had had a BLT bagel at Jill's for lunch, followed by three pastries over the course of the afternoon: a slice of red velvet cake with lunch, a blueberry muffin at 3pm and a chocolate cupcake at 5pm.

Peering out of the store to make sure all the shops were shut and everyone had left, Marcia walked to the parking lot, feeling her uniform uncomfortably tight as her stuffed belly tried to start digesting her feast.


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Christmas that year was hard on both Marcia and Peter as they couldn't be with family. Peter couldn't fly home as Christmas eve was expected to be a busy for crime fighting and he had to be back on the 26th so there were no flights that made sense. Marcia had tried again to make the peace with her family but all of them rejected her overtures. When she tried to knock at their door in a last ditch attempt, her mum opened the door, took one look at her and said "you're getting fat cop, and we're facing bankruptcy" then shut the door in her face, leaving her eldest daughter out in the snow.

For both, it would be their first ever Christmas spent without family and they were at a loss what to do. Both filled their days with work to take their mind off their situation, but when the day was done, only food remained as a steady companion. Marcia cut a delightfully sexy figure, her swelling curves filled her uniform more than ever before, her belly becoming noticeable for the first time whereas before the gain on her butt and tits had kept her belly in the backlight. Now when she sat on a stool in Jill's coffee shop her butt plumped out sideways, now slightly wider than the stool.

On the work front, Marcia's sharp eyed vigilance and quick action netted the unit a high rate of arrests, including two that led to senior members of one organised crime network. The high after that and the praise from the Chief of Police was short-lived though as her loneliness loomed ever larger as evening and closing time on Christmas day approached. Peter closed the unit's work at 10 pm on the 24th December with a message to all officers:


Then he shut down and headed to Murphy's. Alone for the first time as everyone else was doing family stuff. He had been invited to Christmas lunch at all three of his co-workers but didn't want to impose on their families so he declined with thanks.

Marcia also had no plans. Her focus on her family's business had never left her with much time to make friends and Jill had plans with friends her age. She'd invited Marcia who preferred to miss it - the gap between 25 and 31 was not large but in terms of capacity to party it was a generational gap.

Marcia shut down and took a last stroll round the mall, exchanging greetings with the store-workers as they closed shop. When she got to the food court, only Mrs Tueng still had customers seated. The Asian woman waved her in with a smile.
"Come in Marcia, you want dinner?"
"I don't want to keep you, these people will soon leave".
"Nonsense Marcia, if you don't take it I must bin it".
Easily swayed, Marcia quickly acquiesced "OK then I won't be long".
"Go sit down, I will get you food. Coke?"
"Yes please" replied Marcia and sat down, noting ruefully how her belly poured out over her belt - she could still just about hide her belly by sucking it in when standing, but had no chance of hiding it when sitting.

Mrs Tueng first brought her a large bowl of soup which was quickly dispatched to the depths of her stomach. Next up was a big plate loaded high with starters, small bowls of sauces on the side. Marcia munched her way happily through won tons, spring rolls, dumplings and prawn fritters, dunking each into the thick gooey sauces.

Mrs Tueng was ready and as soon as Marcia pushed the plate away, she found her hostess placing another plate before her. This one was filled with rice and the main courses from the buffet. Marcia started slowly, savouring the flavour in each bite the peanutty chicken satay , the tangy sweet sour pork, the robust beef. Then she picked up the pace, soon ploughing through the entire plate. Sitting back a burp escaped her and she blushed furiously, suddenly remembering where she was. Mrs Tueng took no notice and surprised Marcia by bringing out another plate of mains. Marcia glanced round the restaurant, it had emptied. She looked at the restaurant owner, a questioning look on her face. The Asian woman smiled back at her, encouragingly. Marcia picked up the fork again and Mrs Tueng nodded happily, then left her alone with the food.

Marcia was already stuffed by this point but was not about to walk away. Her hands slipped to her belt and she unclasped it, feeling immediate relief as her tummy surged forward. What are you doing? a small part of her wondered. She chowed her way through the plate, slowing towards the end, in fact she had to rest her head on her left elbow, stuffing food in with her waiting mouth with her right hand. She was going to get really fat eating like this she heard the same inner voice.

At one point she found herself still eating with her right hand, but her left had now slipped and was rubbing her swollen belly in circles, feeling the soft flab on the surface yet stretched taut underneath. Finally done, she could barely breathe she was so stuffed beyond capacity. Mrs Tueng let her sit there for a while, then helped the chubby cop to her feet, holding her as she swayed slightly. After locking up the restaurant, she had to help Marcia waddle to the carpark, holding her arm round the younger woman's waist, sneaking a grab of her flabby muffin top now and again. She helped Marcia into the Golf, strapping her seatbelt in place to sneak a last belly rub and waved her bye, wishing her the best for Christmas. Marcia tried to reply but burped, feeling more bloated and aroused than she had ever felt in her life.


Peter entered Murphy's and looked around hopefully, maybe someone had decided to come down after all. No such luck. Feeling like America's biggest loser, Peter shunned his usual place at the bar and sat in a booth, facing the TV. The waitress, Angela, came by and innocently asked "Oh you're alone today?"
She immediately knew she'd said the wrong thing from Peter's expression though he tried to mask it.
"Yup, alone for Christmas" he said morosely.
"Well I'll take good care of you tonight then" she smiled and left him with the menu, not that he really needed it. His eyes followed her as she left. Angela too wasa recent joiner at the bar and with her bright smile and long black hair in tight curls she was an instant hit with the policemen. Her perfectly sculpted butt encased in jeans that were just half a size too tight had nothing to do with it. There was something different about her though Peter noticed, maybe her hair? Then as she bent over to pick up a napkin from he floor he saw her belly bunch into a tiny roll over her waistband. Whenhe stood he took in the very slight muffin top that formed on her sides. So, little Angela was gaining weight. Huh, he scoffed to himself, sneaking a peek down at his round belly, you're one to talk, blowing up like a blimp with those biddies feeding you! Like saying no once in a while would harm you, fatass!

Of course there was no live sports on Christmas Eve, but they were showing re-runs from the best action of the last season and Peter sat back to watch. Angela approached.
"Here you go Peter, eggnog on the house. What else can I get you?" She also laid a basket of onion rings on the table. "We had these from a wrong order" she explained before he could ask.
"Oh thanks Angela. I'll have the steakhouse burger, fries and ranch dressing please. And a beer too. No rush at all".
"Coming up" she smiled and again treated his eyes to her butt as she sashayed across the room.

Lost in the TV. Peter sipped the eggnog. It was excellent and had a good kick to it. It was soon history and he moved on to the cold beer. He started on the onion rings and before he knew it his fingers were scrabbling at the bottom of the empty basket. Just then Angela showed up bearing his order.
"Here you go, Steakhouse with fries, ranch dressing, chicken wings. Need another beer?"
"Thanks but I didn't order any wings Angela".
"Oh..." she said startled. Then with a guilty look she added "Um would you do me a favour and keep them here anyway. You don't need to eat them, and I won't charge you. Only it's the third order I messed up tonight and Jim is getting pissed off at me". Jim the owner was notorious for his bad moods.

Faced with such a pretty thing making such a simple request of him how could any red-blooded male respond? "Of course Ang, leave them here. Don't worry".

The steakhouse burger was an impressive stack of a full pound of minced beef patty packed in a huge grilled bun together with a couple of rashers of bacon, a fried egg and caramelised onion. Not for the faint-hearted. Nor for those porkers who should be watching their weight thought Peter. He had long been tempted by it by always felt embarrassed to order it in front of his colleagues. Starting with the fries before they got cold, Peter dipped each into the ranch dressing and guzzled them down. He took the huge burger in both hands and took a couple of bites, the juices running down his chin. Next he took a chicken wing or two, then back to the burger. Slowly he battled his way through the meal until he cleared all the plates on his table.

The job done, Peter leaned back and patted his belly in what had become it's usual state of blown up bigger than life. Sitting down as he was the buttons strained to meet across the fat expanse of his gut. Peter had taken to wearing blue vests underneath his shirts in a vain attempt at hiding the visible results of his gluttony. He didn’t notice Angela approaching and was surreptitiously letting out a belch, with the unfortunate result that when she leant over the table to take his plates, he basically belched in her ear.
“Oh my God Angela, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were here! I’m sorry” apologised Peter.
“Hehe don’t worry Peter, I’ve had a lot worse” Angela laughed it off.
“Besides it means you enjoyed your meal. All of it” she said, rubbing his belly. Angela seemed to emphasise the ‘all’, as though she never expected him to actually eat the wings alongside the massive burger. She cleared the table and went on about her business.

Sitting back again, Peter wondered how he had let himself turn into this fat uncouth slob, who hoovered up all the food in sight and instead of complimenting a pretty girl, belched in her face, leading her to poke his gut. He had never been a big guy, tending to be lean during childhood and through college. Even when he worked an office job in IT, he still kept fairly active playing ball with his younger brothers or helping his dad on the farm. An unexpected redundancy led him to apply for the police job. The training had shown that he was less fit than he thought, and it made him leaner than before, rather than built with muscles. His mother had been horrified at how skinny he was after graduating.

Truth be told, he had thought moving to Seattle would be a laugh, a good experience while it lasted but he hadn’t realised just how cold and wet it was much of the time. Now his parents were struggling on the farm, which coupled with his own experience of being made redundant made him far more appreciative of his job and less carefree than he had been in his twenties.

Still, back to the weighty matter at hand, the feeling of being fat was new to him and one he was not comfortable with. Although it was quite nice how Angela rubbed your belly. Very nice actually. As though she had read his thoughts Angela showed up at his side.
“Almost midnight Peter, soon Christmas. Here’s an eggnog to celebrate and I thought you’d like slice of pie”. So saying she placed in front of him a pint glass of eggnog and a huge slice of apple pie, almost buried under a mound of whipped cream.
The alcohol he’d already consumed or the Christmas spirit made Peter less inhibited.
“Do you really think I need those?” he asked her “I’m hardly about to starve”.
“Oh, I thought you might like them” she said, the smile falling from her face. “I’ll take them back” she said, reaching for the plate.
His hand fell on her wrist, stopping her mid-way.
“Now they’re here I can’t say no, but you’re gonna make me fat”
“So you’re enjoying a good meal, alone on Christmas Eve, come on. Besides” she continued unexpectedly with a cheeky grin and an even cheekier slap to his belly “you’re already fat”.

That comment should have made anyone in his position immediately reject the calorie laden treats, but to his surprise Peter found himself turned on by the comment and tore into the pie, tearing off big forkfuls and guzzling them down greedily. When done, he downed the eggnog in one long gulp. As he finished midnight struck and the bar burst into a cacophony of loud cheers, whistles and general happiness. Peter used the sound as cover to let off a huge belch. Angela dropped onto the bench near him and snuggled up to his chest, grabbing his head with both hands and snogging him good and long, earning a rousing cheer from the bar crowd.

Peter then started to drink in earnest and when the bar shut at 2 am, Angela walked him home as he wouldn’t manage alone. Luckily his coat was his own, not uniform and so he avoided disgracing the Force. Taxpayers did not expect to see a policeman with his belly bursting out of his uniform, fat as a pig, drunk as a lord, being propped up by a sexy chick and singing all the way home.


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Hope you're enjoying these, please let me know with comments, any feedback. worth continuing or not?


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Funny u decided too reply this story. It reminded me a lot about you other story. This is another great story keep it up.

which story did it remind you of? I'm keen to keep it original, but as a long time reader of ficion, sometimes elements creep in without me being aware.

I noticed Marcia is partly based on an old story, couldn't find it on here, about a male security guard who gets free burgers at the mall until he's found by the owner and force fed.

thanks for the feedback. more to follow, stay tuned


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Marcia felt strange as soon as she woke but couldn't put her finger on it. She looked blearily at her mobile - 9am. Shit she was late for work. Ah no, that was it. Christmas Day. Alone. She pulled the quilt over her head again, unwilling to face the day but bladder pressure soon forced her to the bathroom.

After washing her hands she forced herself to look in the mirror, check out the damage her recent gluttony had done, especially her Chinese blow out yesterday. She started from her face. OK so her cheeks were just slightly rounder, perhaps noticeable to someone who knew her well, but she certainly didn't have a fat face. Her neck looked the same too. Moving on down the changes became more apparent.

Her breasts were now definitely larger than they used to be and pushed out her Hello Kitty pajama top. She cupped them and had to admit that she liked what she felt. They were fuller, heavier, more feminine the voice in her head called out. Taking a deep breath, then sucking in her tummy she cast her glance downwards. Hello Kitty’s face was stretched across a rounded belly that stuck out perhaps an inch from her groin. That wasn't too bad, she thought. She poked her tummy experimentally, getting used to the soft feeling as her finger sunk in. Reassured she exhaled, letting her tummy out to its full extent. Oh no. Oh no no no.

As she let it out, her belly pushed out the top further, ruching it into creases at the sides and riding up, leaving a ribbon of soft flab visible above her shorts. A muffintop ran round her sides, a good inch or two thick, and in front rounded out to an undeniably chubby belly. Continuing the assessment with a feeling of numb shock, Marcia noted her hips were slightly wider and her thighs fleshier. Turning sideways she saw her bum had expanded out backwards as well as sideways. Just to complete the horror story she stepped onto the scale: 133 lbs, compared to her standard 115. She slapped her belly with both hands and shook it, then slapped her hips, the bone underneath now cushioned. Why on earth did she feel so turned on?

18 lbs of pure fat had taken up residence uninvited. In fact although she was not aware of it, she had actually gained even more fat as the muscles she had built up during police training had also turned to soft flab.

Disgusted with herself, and unable to understand why she was feeling so horny so often Marcia headed to the kitchen for breakfast. A strict diet had to start today and she'd do a workout right now. In the kitchen she ignored the bacon and eggs she had bought specifically for today, and took a plain piece of toast, rinsed down with orange juice. No wonder she was getting fat, she thought, all she had was high-fat food. White bread, full cream yoghurt, no fruit in the house. Well, she reasoned to herself, I do take fruit at work from the Fruit Basket; conveniently forgetting that one fruit a day made little headway healthwise against the barrage of food she had taken to consuming on a daily basis.

She went to her room and looked for her workout clothes. When she finally found them she looked at them dubiously. They looked awfully small. She got the top on and then the cycling pants and looked at the mirror. Looking back at her was a chubby porker who was clearly far more familiar with the cookie jar than the gym. When she bent over to put on her running shoes, she really felt for the first time her belly bunching into a thick roll of pudge. She looked out of the window. There was no sign yet of the heavy snow forecast so she could just throw a sweater over and head out. As she walked to the door, she spotted the phone.

Marcia dialled her parents' home number. She thought ahead to joining them for dinner later on. Her mum and Barbara would laugh at her weight gain but would help her organise a diet plan and make sure she stuck to it. Her mum finally picked up.
"Hi mum, Happy Christmas!" chirped Marcia "What are you guys up to?"
"Don't call me Mum, we don't consider you family after what you've put us through" replied her mum icily, and hung up without even hearing Marcia's gasp.

The words cut like a knife and Marcia burst into tears, falling to her knees, then curling up into a ball, the phone still beeping in her hands while she cried in big gulps.


Through the fog of sleep, Peter felt something amiss. Lifting his head off the pillow he heard noises in the living room. Still more than half asleep he got out of bed and opened the bedroom door to see Angela pulling her coat on. She turned at the sound and said "oh good morning, you're up?"
Peter looked down, suddenly aware he was in his boxer shorts, which were by now too tight, his fat belly hanging out.

He quickly jumped backwards into his room and shut the door. The poorly suppressed laughter he heard outside did not help his comfort level, neither did the throbbing hangover. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a sweater he walked into the living room again. Not sure what to say he walked over to the open plan kitchen and switched on the coffee machine.
"Do you want coffee?" he asked lamely
"No thanks, you must have an awful headache so I'll leave you to it. Sorry I woke you , I was trying to get out quietly"
Peter was really uncomfortable. He had no recollection of last night after their midnight kiss.
"Umm... last night..." he started then stopped, unsure how to continue.
"You were so funny" she said, smiling.
Not a good description of bedroom performance, thought Peter.
"At the bar, huh?" he hazarded.
"And all the way here! I didn't know you had such a good singing voice."
"S..singing?" croaked Peter. What the hell had gone down?
"Oh yes, you sang all the way here, Auld Lang Syne and Jingle Bells."
"Me?" asked Peter.
"Oh yes, and I had to help you back here as there were no taxis around and I couldn't leave you there."
"Uh huh" said Peter wretchedly.
"You really don't remember anything do you?" she laughed.

Peter wondered whether he should mention the kiss. If that was as far as it had gone then well and good, but if they'd had sex then she wouldn't be too impressed he'd forgotten. Fuck it, he was always for honesty. He couldn’t stand playing guessing games, and besides he was ready to collapse with the hangover.
"Umm" he started on safe ground. "I liked it when we snogged at Murphy's, but er... er... later..." he tailed off, unsure how to get himself out of it "did we, um... did you know..."
"We went to bed Peter. I stripped you off, got all hot down there and then found you snoring!"
"Ugh..." stammered Peter, aghast. "I.."
"Hee hee I'm kidding Pete! I think it would have counted as rape you were so wasted!"

The pretty brunette laughed at the expression of relief that filled his face.
"Look I have to get going now, Happy Christmas" she kissed him quickly on the lips and half turned to go.
"Maybe some other time, big boy" and gently tapped his belly as she left.

The strong smell of the freshly brewed coffee made him gag. He left it there and went back to bed. Why was Angela patting his belly and calling him big boy? And why did you like it so much?


Marcia picked herself up from the floor and mooched around the apartment aimlessly. She sat on the sofa hugging a cushion for a while then turned on the TV. She quickly turned it off again. Outside the snow had started to fall: no running then.

She found herself in the kitchen, opened the fridge and her eyes lit on the breakfast goodies she had bought. She took them out and put her largest frying pan on, then tossed in a large wedge of butter. Bacon and sausages cooked far better in full-fat butter, a tip she had learned from Jill at the bagel place. In another frying pan with oil she fried 4 eggs and a 2 pound packet of hash browns. In another dish she quickly poured the pancake mix and added the milk, throwing in some cream for good measure.

Within minutes she had a full breakfast to serve ten people. She sat down, still in her gym clothes and entered battle. First a few bites of fried egg and bacon then a couple of pancakes drowned in maple syrup for the sweetness then back to the salty buttery fry up. A thick creamy milkshake helped everything down nicely. She powered her way through, rubbing her burgeoning soft belly now and again. When she finished she was shocked to discover that the hunger in her belly was still un-sated.

Raiding the fridge again she found nothing appealed and checked the freezer. A sealed 5 pint tub of chocolate and fudge ice cream lay there, untouched for a month as it had been too cold for ice cream but now she didn't care. The chubby blonde in tight spandex took the ice cream and a packet of cookies, plumped down on the sofa and tuned in to old re-runs of Tom and Jerry, always guaranteed entertainment.

At first she had to fight to dig out small chunks of ice cream with a spoon, then as it thawed out it became easier, allowing her to keep one hand massaging her expanding belly. When it started to become more liquid, Marcia tossed in all the remaining cookies and then drank the lot straight from the tub, not even using the spoon. Her belly was now blown up to double her starting size that morning. This is so bad, the rational part of her brain said, you're gonna become a blimp. Then why does it feel so good?

When done she lay on her side on the sofa, rubbing her bloated tummy, moaning until she passed out into a food coma.


Peter awoke again when he heard a bell ringing in his head. Confused he sat up in bed and slowly perceived that the sound was not in fact a bell in his head, but his phone ringing.
“’erro?” he mumbled sleepily into the receiver.
“Happy Christmas darling, surely I didn’t wake you?!” called his mum happily.
“Uh, late night mum” he checked the time on his mobile. 11am. So it was 1pm at home in Oklahoma.
He yawned widely.
“All set down there Mum? Everyone OK? You guys about to eat?” he asked, thinking again with a pang of all the warmth, love and good humour he’d be missing out on. Not to mention the feast.
“Yes we’re all set, the men have been out setting up the barn since this morning, we’re missing you so much dear”.
“Not as much as I miss all you guys. You’re going ahead with the feast for the whole clan then?”
“Yes, it’s been so warm and we had to be quite stingy with the annual bonus so we thought this would be a nice way to treat them.”
“Oh it is. I’m sure they’ll all appreciate it. I know I’d much rather be there too!”

Peter’s family were cattle farmers in Oklahoma. His brothers still worked there on the farm, Mike the eldest helped his dad to run the place. Bart was a microbiologist and worked from the farm on refining their production methods, as well as helping the others. They also employed some 20 men to help manage the ranch with all the different things that needed doing. In order to make up for a smaller bonus than usual, due to a poor year, his parents had decided to throw a Christmas day feast on the ranch.

This was only possible due to an unusually warm spell. They had cleared out a section of a huge barn used to store hay and turned it into a scene reminiscent of some medieval banquet. Trestle tables and chairs had been rented to form 2 long tables that ran side by side down the barn. A bank of barbecues had been set up to form a kitchen – outside the barn due to the fire hazard with all the hay around. Pride of place was an open fire over which a complete pig slowly rotated on a spit.

All the employees and their families were invited; there would be over 200 guests as family down South included not only the workers’ immediate families but also any parents, grandparents or visiting family members. They had already started to arrive and the meal would probably begin around 2pm. Eating and drinking was expected to continue until late into the night.

They may have been slightly short on cash and even shorter on profits, but farmers were never short of food. An informal barter system allowed all to enjoy the benefits of supply of fresh produce. The last to lose weight in a recession were the farmer's wife and the baker's wife.

Peter and his mum agreed that Bart would call him on Skype from the barn so he could participate, at least by remote, in the feast.

Hanging up, Peter looked outside and saw the snow that had been expected was falling thick and fluffy, casting a dull pall over the day. He had never felt more distant from the warm and sunny south. Aware that he would soon be on Skype with the clan, he went off to shower and wear something more presentable.

Standing under the warm running water, he felt a softness he was not used to as he soaped his body. Looking down he saw the water running over his chest, now softer than he had ever seen it before, you’re gonna get man boobs if you don’t watch it! he thought. Dripping off his chest the water ran down his belly, still rounded out and puffed up from the over indulgence last night. As though to mock him, as he thought that his tummy rumbled with hunger.

Peter went to wear a smart outfit he had; cream corduroy pants and a maroon shirt. He knew he was in trouble when he struggled to get the trousers over his butt. Had he gained weight in his bum too? he wondered. Getting the button closed was going to be hard as a good 3 inch gap separated the button from its hole. He reckoned he’d be able to close it if he lay on the bed, but then he’d be too uncomfortable. He could button the shirt, but being a slim-fit his belly stretched it open between buttons. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, his pants unable to close and his belly hanging out, Peter couldn’t help but think that he looked like an overstuffed fresh sausage.

After trying another couple of items with similar lack of success, Peter settled on his loosest jeans and a sweater. The jeans used to be loose-fit, bought in an attempt to try out a new style when he first got to the city months earlier and subsequently abandoned as the jeans slipped off his waist- until today. The sweater was a chunky woolen item in cream, a Christmas gift from his mum. Fortunately she assumed in mammy style that he’d wear 5 or 6 layers underneath so she had got it large. As a result it was a good fit and hid his weight gain, although the shirt he had on underneath felt tight.

Turning on his laptop, Peter found a missed call from Bart. He settled himself comfortably on the sofa and hit the make video call button. He heard the noise first, a hundred happy voices ranging from deep men’s voices to the shrill excited chatter of Hispanic women. Children yelled in the background, undoubtedly their first time at such a feast. The video started and Peter saw a belt buckle, then Bart’s beaming face came into focus, red from the efforts at the grill, or more likely from the excellent local red wine.
“Hey there little brother, Merry Christmas!” yelled Bart happily.
“Same to you bro! Man I miss you guys” exclaimed Peter.
“Can you believe the weather we’re having here?” asked Bart, tilting the laptop so that a clear blue sky filled the screen.
“Oh my God, that looks like summer there! I’m so jealous.” Said Peter “it’s snowing here”
“Snow? Hehe you poor fool, we’re in short sleeves here!” taunted Bart.

“Is that Peter there?”
“Yes dad, come say hi. You don’t need to shout” said Bart.

Peter exchanged greetings with his dad, his mum, then Mike and finally Stacy, his sister back home from college. They all seemed slightly tipsy already. Peter was thrilled to see them all looking so well. His mum was happy to actually see him, rather than just hear his voice on the phone.

“You look well dear. Getting some meat on your bones”
“Let me see” interrupted Mike. “Oh yeah, you’re getting fat!” he laughed, waving his own paunch in front of the camera.

After a bit more chat, the laptop in Oklahoma was passed down the tables, as all the farm hands wanted to wish Peter well. Many of them knew him since childhood or as a teenager, working alongside them during the summer months or after school. In a snow-covered Seattle, Peter felt a tightness in his chest and had to fight hard to keep tears at bay. What was he doing here so far away when all these people who knew him and loved him were at home?

Still on the sofa, Peter took off his sweater, it was warm enough inside with the central heating on. He looked down at his gut, pushing out against the hard-working shirt buttons. What would his family have said if they saw him like this? The ironic part was that Peter, even now, was the skinniest in the family. His dad and brothers were built large, the stereotypical farmers. While they all carried some flab, all centred around their guts, they also packed a lot of muscle.

His mum and sister Stacy were also of larger build; his mum had been fattened by years of loving attention from her husband and now weighed in at over 250 lbs. Stacy at 170 lbs was still a way off that but had the same large build and had always rocked a soft belly, too easily tempted by the good fresh food on constant supply at home. At college she was probably the only girl actually losing weight (slightly) as the canteen fare simply had little appeal to her. No doubt she would be gorging like a piggy today to make up for that; she was known to wear loose dresses on feast days for a good reason.

The difference, thought Peter, was that his body was quickly losing all traces of the lean muscle he had honed during police academy, he seemed to be turning into a complete tub of lard. Mike had enjoyed showing Peter, via Skype, the veritable feast ready to be devoured. Apart from the spit-roasted pig there were turkeys galore and of course beef from their farm. Starters were massive dishes of pasta and Mexican specialities brought by the Hispanic families. Sides included potatoes and loads of other veg cooked every way possible. They had had to borrow two fridges just to store all the desserts. Opening the door with a flourish, Mike had shown Peter stacks of apple pie, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, cheesecakes, tubs and tubs of cream to go with them, ice-cream and chocolate cake in case anyone remained wanting more.

Hungry, suddenly realising that it was 12.30 and he hadn’t eaten anything yet Peter got up and headed to the kitchen.


Active Member
Dec 1, 2007
which story did it remind you of? I'm keen to keep it original, but as a long time reader of ficion, sometimes elements creep in without me being aware.

I noticed Marcia is partly based on an old story, couldn't find it on here, about a male security guard who gets free burgers at the mall until he's found by the owner and force fed.

thanks for the feedback. more to follow, stay tuned
Beer league, and it is a compliment. The similarity is how well the weight gain is described not the storyline or anything like that.


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Peter found both fridge and freezer sorely lacking in anything that could be made into a Christmas day lunch. Having been brought up on fresh produce, he never bought frozen food, except perhaps a pizza or two just to have something there. But a pizza was not Xmas lunch. There was nothing for it but to brave the elements outside. Fortunately, living in the city centre had the advantage of a plentiful range of restaurants; hopefully a decent one had a free table for one.

Donning his new sweater again and his thick coat – which was starting to feel tight – he set off carefully through the snow, which now lay an inch thick on the kerb. One block down there were three restaurants, he hoped one could take him. The first turned out to be more a fast food place than a proper restaurant. It had free tables but didn’t appeal to Peter. It would do if the others were full, but not a first choice. The second one looked perfect, a proper Italian restaurant with tables crowded close to one another, the babble of waiters and chefs calling out above several conversations, and the obligatory background Italian music.

Unfortunately it looked full to overflowing and that proved to be the case, a waiter regretfully turning Peter away. The third and last restaurant a couple of doors down had space available but it was austerely decorated inside, overly fancy and with prices to match. As a cop of the lowest grade, Peter couldn’t afford starters at $50 nor mains at $120. Why on earth did these places set up in residential streets wondered Peter. As he pondered his options a plump woman burst out of the Italian restaurant and called out to him:
“Hey mister”
Peter looked up hopefully. “Yes?”
“You wanna eat” she asked with a heavy Italian accent.
“I’d love to, the restaurant looks fantastic but it’s full.”
“Ah come in Mister, we always find place for an appetite!”

The heat inside hit Peter like a slap in the face, and he quickly divested himself of his coat. He found himself seated at a table for 8 with 6 other people there, four adults and two kids. Embarrassed at his forced intrusion on them, Peter started to apologise and made to leave.
“I’m so sorry, I thought they had place for me here.”
“That is a place! Don’t worry this restaurant is very casual, but excellent food and as you’ve seen very friendly people. We come at least once a week.” Said one of the men at the table.
Peter thanked them and introduced himself then asked for the menu.
“Set menu today, Christmas lunch. $40 with wine”
“Sounds perfect!” exclaimed Peter happily.

The wine was soon served, a 2 pint flask of red, deep and far better than Peter had hoped for. One of the women at the table saw his expression and commented “Good isn’t it? that’s how everything is here, understated and divine.” The rest agreed and Peter toasted their health.

The heat became unbearable and Peter soon removed his sweater, leaving his beginner gut visible, stretching his shirt out and bulging over his belt. Then the onslaught of food started with a few antipasti, only little bite-size nibbles, but a large plate full of them. Quickly dispatched to his stomach, he remained slack-jawed at the starter, a steaming dish of cannelloni straight from the oven, easily large enough to feed two. The main course arrived for the rest of the table at the same time, so conversation halted while they ate.

Peter lost himself in the creamy, meaty goodness of the baked pasta, dipping fresh bread rolls into the sauce until he left the dish almost clean. Looking across at his table mates he saw they were in similar ecstasies with their plates. He licked his lips in anticipation.

The main came out in three parts. Pride of place was a plate piled high with slices of turkey breast and a drumstick, surrounded by three types of stuffing and bread sauce. Another dish still steaming from the oven bore potatoes, baked with onions to a golden brown and dusted with fennel seeds. The third dish contained more baked veg.

Peter took a tentative first bite of the turkey. The succulent breast was so tender it just melted in his mouth, the gravy exploding with flavour, and he quickly added a forkful of stuffing. Appreciative of the fresh ingredients and the excellent cooking, he ripped into the food, guzzling down the enormous portions with a speed that defied belief. At one point a waiter deposited a dish of fries on the table. Peter didn’t question or even look up, he just shoveled them into his waiting mouth. The others at the table looked on, clearly torn between jealousy that he was still eating and the discomfort from their own stuffed bellies.

When he was done, Peter felt so bloated he could barely breathe, his belt now painfully cutting into his fat gut. Looking around he noticed that many other patrons were in a similar state of discomfort, and several had openly undone their belts. One women at his table had even opened the waist button on her trousers, her belly surging out between the flaps. Discreetly Peter slid his hand down to release his belt a notch but found its progress impeded by his belly, round, hard and bloated.

Seeing that they were talking together, when it came to dessert the waiters brought out enough to share: two full 12” pies each cut into eight pieces with a jug of cream on the side. The children had ice cream. One by one the adults took slices until each had had 3 pieces and one remained. The jug of cream had already been replenished and half a jug was left. As though in mutual agreement, one of the men slid them over towards Peter. Who was by now painfully bloated, even with his belt undone, the shirt buttons under extreme duress against the growing gut.

Peter refused at first, he genuinely felt as though he was going to explode, and couldn’t face the last slice. Having already eaten three, eating this would mean he’d gorged on half a pie by himself. Slowly, as though he had no control over his body, he found himself reaching for the fork and started on the final slice, pouring all the remaining cream over it. He was physically exhausted, he had to rest his head on one hand to keep going, wondering whether it was possible for a stomach to literally explode. As he finished the last bite, the others at the table cheered loudly and called for a round of liquer.

Peter remained seated for a while as the restaurant emptied, earning congratulations on his feat from both staff and other patrons as well. What world was this he had stumbled into where gluttony was praised? Doesn’t matter tubby it works for you!

Some time later a waiter had to help Peter to his feet and into his outer clothes, he was too stuffed and boozed up to manage alone. The coat had to be convinced to zip up over his swollen belly, but he was too far gone to care.

Making sure that he could walk unaided on the snow, they left him totter off towards his home, by now the sky was almost dark at 4pm. Once home, Peter shrugged off the coat, sweater and finally stripped off the too tight jeans and shirt, leaving his fat body unrestricted. Clad only in his boxers, he fell more than sat on the sofa and pulled a rug over his body before passing out. Lying on his back, his gut rose upwards, as spherical as a dome.


At around the same time, Marcia murmured in her sleep, her belly laying fat and swollen pushed out of her tight spandex outfit. A loud advert on TV woke her suddenly and she sat up heavily. After using the loo she decided to try her family again. This time she called her sister’s mobile. No answer. Same with her dad. Trying Barbara’s number again she was sent straight to mailbox. Same with her dad. Forcing herself not to cry she went for her newly-found comfort zone and opened the freezer. Frozen pizza would do nicely.
She switched on the oven when her phone rang. She jumped to it, expecting to see Barbara flash up on the screen, but it was Jill. She sounded mildly drunk and complained of being force-fed at her mum’s. The background laughter only served to make Marcia feel even lonelier after they hung up.

Three slices into the pizza she knew it wouldn’t be enough and tossed another pizza in the oven as it was still hot. She grabbed a bottle of Coke and gorged happily in front of the TV, feeling better with each bite. The second pizza followed, though she had to force herself to eat the last two slices. Uncomfortable on the sofa she tried an old favourite position, sitting cross legged on the floor, her back against the sofa.

She had to laugh at her attempts to do so. She had lost the flexibility to cross her legs so had to sit with her legs straight out in front of her. Her bloated belly poured out of the restrictive spandex and lay on her lap like soft flesh-covered jello. Still not comfortable she pulled herself back onto the sofa and dozed off again.



The doorbell wakened Peter from his slumber. Moving like a zombie to the intercom he answered to a voice he didn’t recognise.
“It’s Mark here, Lily’s wife.”
“Huh? Is everything OK?”
“Oh yes. She sent me to pick you up for dinner.”
“Oh!” said Peter. “I told her I wouldn’t make it, I’ve eaten already. I’m really sorry.”
“Ah come on, you’re not gonna sit in all day.”

They argued a little longer then Peter’s guilt at this guy having driven out for him, and his sleep-fuddled brain made him agree. He asked him to come up while he changed, buzzing the street door open, and leaving his apartment door ajar. Pulling his jeans back on Peter found the button wouldn’t close. At that moment the door opened and a huge guy walked in. And by huge here, Peter meant fat. Thinking of the damage done to his own waistline by his colleagues in only a few short weeks, Peter could only imagine how much this guy had been fed during a marriage to Lily. His shirt rounded out over a massive paunch, almost completely spherical, the belt invisible under the flab. He held out his hand:
“Gus. Glad to meet you.”

Feeling sure that this man had shared his predicament more than once, Peter showed Gus the jeans unable to button over his fat bare gut.
“Too much lunch” he said, embarrassed. “and too much of Lily’s food at work, you are one lucky guy”
“I’m one fat guy thanks to her cooking!” said Gus with a deep laugh that shook his belly, echoning Peter’s thoughts a moment earlier.
“Have you any sweatpants that still fit?” asked Gus
“I guess so, but I’m not going to Christmas dinner dressed for bed!” exclaimed Peter. Yeah, that’s right, pretend you’re an educated polite boy and not a fat fuck.
“Don’t be daft boy, you’re coming to eat. That’s gonna get bigger,” said Gus poking Peter’s gut.

Some time later they arrived at Gus & Lily’s place, a big family house just outside the city. Peter liked it as soon as he saw it, and loved it when he stepped inside. It was a perfect Christmas setting, a warm home decorated just a bit too much, lovely smells of turkey, biscuits and mulled wine emanating from the kitchen. There were over twenty people there but these seemed to include friends as well as family and Peter immediately felt welcome. A mug of mulled wine and a ginger biscuit helped. Oh you’re in heaven tonight fat boy scoffed the irritating thoughts in his head.



Like Peter an hour earlier, Marcia woke to her doorbell ringing. Stumbling to the intercom, in her foggy state she accidentally pressed the button to open the front door. Maybe it was her family after all?
“Hi babe, it’s me”
“Jill?!” asked Marcia in a panic.
“You OK babe, you sounded bad on the phone so I came to make sure you’re OK”

Through the intercom, Marcia heard her step inside then close the front door. Oh fuck. Oh shit. No way did she want the skinny brunette to see her looking like a fattened turkey, bursting out of her long-discarded gym clothes. In a blind panic Marcia ran to her bedroom and pulled her dressing gown on, tying the belt in front. She ran back to the front door, where she could hear Jill knocking.
“Hey Marsh, I’m here” she called.
Marcia stood with her back to the front door, her hands pressed tight against the wood.
“Uh.. I’m not too well Jill you shouldn’t come in” she tried.
“Why, what’s wrong babe?” Marcia felt bad as she heard the worry enter Jill’s carefree tone.
“A… a tummy ache Jill. I think food poisoning”
“Oh no! and here I came bearing gifts of cheesecake!” cried out Jill.
Cheesecake? thought Marcia. What a brilliant idea.
“Open Marsh, let me give you this” insisted Jill outside.
Marcia thought quickly. Maybe she could let Jill in, accept the cheesecake with a sad face and send her on her way soon. If she was careful, Jill wouldn’t notice her bloated belly.

Boy was she wrong.


Well-Known Member
Aug 25, 2008
, Male
I noticed Marcia is partly based on an old story, couldn't find it on here, about a male security guard who gets free burgers at the mall until he's found by the owner and force fed.

Sounds to me like "Bellied Boy with a Badge".


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Part 8 – Christmas day: Dinner

Lily waddled over to Peter and smothered him in a hug. He leaned into her, quite enjoying the warm squishiness. Lily and Gus introduced him to the others there, a variety of friends. The couple had no children. Looking around, Peter felt like the skinniest person in there. Overeating was clearly common to this bunch and there were definitely more sweatpants than button pants or belts. There were several plates of nibbles lying around and Peter grazed his way around the room, finding it hard to believe that he was eating again.

Putting his hand into a bowl of peanuts for another handful one of the guys called him out:
“Watch it there son, or you’ll get as fat as me”
Peter froze and instinctively his hand opened, dropping the nuts back into the bowl. Before he knew what was happening, Gus had lifted Peter’s sweater to reveal his pale rounded belly, and patted it soundly.
“Oh Lily’s been taking care of this one already” he laughed.
“Still a way to go till he catches you up, old man” called out a woman from across the room.
Peter’s face burned with embarrassment. It was one thing him choosing to reveal the results of his gluttony to Gus in the privacy of his home, but this was uncalled for. Seeing his discomfiture, the man who had started it all grabbed a paw of peanuts and handed some to Peter “Here you go mate, no worries”.

Just then Lily called them all in to sit at table. If Peter’s lunch had been gluttonous, it was a mere snack compared to the feast laid out before them. The table groaned under the sheer weight of food it bore.
“Come on then” called Lily “grab a plate and dig in! Happy Christmas all!”
Peter did as instructed and loaded his plate, only the first of many.

The next two hours passed in a pleasant haze of excellent food and wine, and truly heartwarming company. Whereas at lunch Peter could recall what he'd eaten, here he'd truly lost count of what he had gorged on. Turkey. Stuffing. Sides. More of the same. Pies. At least 3 different flavours, and at least 2 slices of each. The elasticated waistband having let him him unrestrained he was baffled when he started to feel it put pressure on his belly. Looking down he could see he round swell of his paunch even through the chunky sweater.

Making their way to the living room, Peter found a reclining armchair and slid his hands under the sweater, massaging his overbloated gut. He fell victiim again to Gus lifting it, exposing a pale white dome to the room. Poking it, this time Gus found it hard and taut, stretched over the vast quantities of food Peter had guzzled. Laughs over, Peter downed an eggnog and promptly dozed off, still clutching his belly openly.

"He'd better find himself a wife soon" chuckled one of Lily's friends, "looks like a proper porker"
"And you aren't?" laughed Lily, slapping the friend's beach-ball sized belly.


Jill upset Marcia’s plan immediately by entering the kitchen to leave the cake box. She looked around the room in amazement, the kitchen still a mess from Marcia’s breakfast blow out. The policewoman had thrown the empty wrappers at the bin, without actually getting much in. The garbage bin was therefore surrounded by all the empty packets and packaging, telling tales of Marcia's day. The two discarded frozen pizza boxes leaned against the wall, the ice cream tub on top of them.

Jill turned to her friend slowly. She had been up before, and while it would never grace the front cover of a magazine, Marcia’s apartment was always much cleaner than this.
“What’s up babe?” she asked seriously?
The look of concern in Jill’s eyes was all Marcia needed to burst into tears again. Jill quickly took two steps and hugged the shorter blonde tight, soothing her. She felt a softness she was unaccustomed to cloaking her friend's body. She led Marcia out to the living room and sat her on the sofa, letting her cry it out. Marcia explained between sobs the rift in her family, culminating in her mum’s nasty words to her that morning, however she said nothing of her binge. Jill heard her out, not saying anything. The troubled blonde needed to be heard, not spoken to.

With all the heaving and hugging, Marcia’s dressing gown had become loose and Jill thought she could see the flab underneath. Marcia’s tale wound to its end:
“… then it started snowing and I just felt so depressed.”
“So you looked for comfort in food then?” asked Jill bluntly
“Uh..” said Marcia, embarrassed to discuss this.
“I think” said Jill softly, “you’ve been finding comfort in food for a while now, and today you had a complete blow out”. As she ended, she grabbed Marcia’s dressing gown and pulled it open, laying bare the visible proof of the blonde’s pig-out. The gym top had by now ridden up over her breasts so it looked like a sports bra. The shorts were pushed down by her bloated belly, which lay pale and fat in her lap.

Before Marcia could react, Jill started to massage the swollen tummy with both hands.
“I’m a baker” she said. “I make a living off people who seek comfort in food.”
“Really?” asked the blonde, confused and horny. Somehow relieved at having shared her stress, yet worried what her skinny friend was thinking about how she had blown up. And confused as to why Jill's rubbing hands felt soo good.
“Oh yes” Jill breathed sultrily, “you’ve really been stuffing yourself silly. I know about your closing time feeding frenzies at Mrs Tueng and Salim, and I can see where you’re putting it. Right into this sexy body” continued Jill, one hand on Marcia’s belly, the other running down her hip, rubbing the muffintop then cupping her fleshy butt.
“It’s not a frenzy” protested Marcia, stung. “They are kind enough to offer me dinner with food they will throw away otherwise."
"Oh I agree, but you eat three times the normal amount because you're a greedy little piggy" Jill said, her rubbing getting deeper, slower. "And this morning you realised how chubby you have grown and struggled into your workout clothes. Did you even run down the street, or manage a
couple of sit ups?" Marcia shook he head slowly, unsure what was happening but unwilling to interrupt the soft massage of her flab. She had never felt so turned on, was she turning into a fat lesbian in her thirties?

"No, you didn't even do two little sit ups before raiding the fridge?" asked Jill. "Not only are you getting fat, but lazy too" her hands still working their magic, softly teasing Marcia's flab between her fingers. "Then too lazy to move your ass you binged out on everything you had in the house it seems, bloated your body to this pure sexiness" she murmured.

"Wha... what are you doing?" slurred Marcia.
"Just telling you how hot you look with the weight you've gained, especially when you squeeze yourself into a tiny spandex outfit you already outgrew."
"But I'm fat Jill, not sexy. What are you saying? What's wrong with you?" Marcia pushed her hands away and pulled the dressing gown aound her.

"I told you Marcia. I'm a baker, I enjoy seeing people eat. I have many customers who have embraced their appetite and now enjoy eating without the guilt trip"
"You make people fat!" accused Marcia.
"Only if they want to. I encourage eating though."
"What are you talking about?" asked Marcia, upset* and with a pang realising that she missed Jill's warm hands caressing her tummy.
"OK, let me show you." Jill got up and went into the kitchen. She emerged a minute later with the cheesecake now out of the box, a large knife, a sideplate and fork. She sat on the sofa again.
Marcia looked at the cake hungrily, her eyes devouring it.
Jill cut a normal slice, laid it on the plate and placed it on the coffee table in front of the blonde.

"This is encouraging" she said. "We both know you want it, and it makes me happy to see you enjoy it."
"How is that different from making me fat?" asked Marcia, struggling not to grab the slice.
"Because you'll pick it up and eat it. I won't feed it to you. Unless you ask me to of course." laughed Jill.
"You'd like to feed it to me?" asked Marcia, struggling to understand.
Jill leaned forward and slipped her hand inside the dressing gown, finding Marcia's belly and rubbed slowly. She whispered into the blonde's ear "bite by bite. I'd love to feed it to you one little forkful after another, and I'd keep feeding you till you tell me to stop"
Marcia relaxed, sinking back into the sofa "what are you waiting for?"

Jill started slowly, placing the plate on the sofa and herself kneeling on the floor, between Marcia's legs. With one hand she fed her friend, with the other she massaged her tubby belly. Jill placed the first quivering morsel on Marcia's tongue, who let it dissolve in her mouth and swallowed, moaning in pleasure. The next piece went down more rapidly, the blonde making greedy noises for more. The first slice quickly gone, Jill asked if she wanted more. She took a drunk nodding as a yes and proceeded, pausing to remove the dressing gown.

A second slice, bigger than the first and then a third quickly shot down Marcia's throat.
"You've had three slices already, do you want more?" breathed Jill.
"Uh huh" moaned Marcia, her pants by now completely wet although Jill hadn't so much as touched her down there. She didn't realise that Jill was in a similar condition. The spandex top came off, letting Marcia's breasts free. Still perky, they were heavier than before and rested on her belly. Another slice. Half the cake gone.
"More babe?" asked Jill.
"Mmm hmm"
"You're gonna get fat if you keep eating like this" teased Jill, still caressing Marcia's swollen tummy.
"Am fat" was the lazy reply, along with an open mouth.
"Sexy" insisted Jill, shoving more cake down the greedy girl's maw.

With a slice left, Marcia lay almost comatose on the sofa, her love juices spent with coming for so long.
"Come on gorgeous, one more slice" Jill acknowledged that she had switched from feeding to force feeding, but was too far gone and sexed up to care.
The slice went down slowly.

Jill helped Marcia to her feet and half carried her to bed, taking every opportunity to feel the blonde's plumped up butt and swinging breasts.. She sat Marcia down on the bed then lifted her legs up. Marcia promptly fell backwards, lying across the bed. Jill pulled her spandex shorts off with no little effort, marvelling at the changes in her friend's body. Just 2 months ago Marcia had showered Jill's before heading out and Jill had seen her taut lean body, even been jealous o her muscle tone.

That was history. The woman moaning on the bed was undoubtedly chubby, starting to push plump. Her thighs, hips, arse and tits all showed signs of gain. Lying on her side, her belly ballooned out in front of her like someone had attached an airhose to her navel and forgot to remove it.

Jill fingered herself right there, admiring her handiwork snoring on the bed.


Well-Known Member
Mar 11, 2007
Just discovered this story and its really excellent. Love the Maria angle and the whole set up around her; nothing like a hot cop getting bigger. Very nice. Also love some of the descriptions; particuarly the plump office hottie with her two donuts :) Really awesome stuff and that finals scene with Maria and Jill is VERY sexy.