After Police Academy

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Snuggle Hoarder
Jun 3, 2013
, Female
I love this story! The progression is done really well, and the descriptions of the food and the eating are excellent. This is one of my new favorites. Fantastic work.


Well-Known Member
Nov 14, 2012
Another great addition! And thank you for commenting on my story as well!


Well-Known Member
May 12, 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.
thank you very much. I've long admired your work & follow it both on here & DA.


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
The morning after dawned grey over a snow covered Seattle. Marcia woke to her alarm, a moment of panic struck when she felt out and didn't find her bedisde table. Sitting up lethargically she saw she was sideways across the bed. Huh? Slowly the events of yesterday came back to her. Had she really eaten out her fridge? Wha about that weird conversation with Jill? Had she been fed a slice of cake? Probably more than a slice, the mood she was in yesterday.

She rolled her legs off and sat up. Looking down at her belly she saw it was even worse than she remembered. Until now her weight gain had spread itself fairl evenly over her body, adding a light layer of soft cushioning all over, so her thighs, butt, hips and breasts all shared the extra poundage. Her belly had not been immune but now for the first time in her life she had an actual gut spreading out into her lap, the strings of her thong buried under the flab.

Using the loo helped her look and feel marginally less bloated. After showering she stepped with trepidation onto the scale, her heart in her mouth. The needle swung up to 138 lbs. 5 lbs more than yesterday and 23 lbs up from two or three months earlier. Seriouly what sort of a pig gained 5 pounds in a day? she thought, disgusted with herself. Even on Chrismas day. Marcia looked down at her belly, swelling up and out from her pubic mound. Cute shouted the voice in her head. Marcia shook her head, she didn't feel cute, she felt fat.

She pulled her police uniform out of the wardrobe with a feeling of dread, the catsuit-style one piece looking a lot smaller than it did just two days earlier. Her panties tore into her skin, causing her soft flesh to form rolls and her bra was too tight, even on the loosest clasp. She $stepped into the trousers and pulled them up. From halfway up her thighs she struggled, but with some tugging she pulled them up and over her bubble butt. She paused for breath, seeing in the mirror a red-faced woman, clearly out of shape, in trousers too tight for her and with a fat belly pouring over the waistband. What a porker! she thought. Her arms went into the sleeves next and she tried to pull up the zipper that run up her back from the waist. She just couldn't do it. Reaching round was always an awkward task, and her blubber made it impossible to shut.

She thought of trying her other outfit, as she always rotated two. This was even tighter, as it was the one used less often and wouldn't go over her butt. Squeezing back into the uniform she left the back open and wore sweater over it, then her coat on top. Screw it she thought, she's spend the day in her office and start dieting immediately. She was running late already and today would be busy as sales started across the nation.


The beeping alarm woke Peter who arose groggily. He still felt stuffed from last night's feast, in fact from the full day blowout, and a visit to the loo didn't make much difference. No wonder, he thought, you ate as much as seven or eight meals yesterday.

Getting his uniform on was the toughest workout he'd had in a while. The blue shirt was stretched to the limit for the buttons to meet across the expanse of his gut, the pale fat flesh showing. He had to abandon his usual trick of a blue t-shirt undeneath as there just wasn't the space needed. Bending to get his trousers on was fraught with danger as each time he moved he thought he'd rip the shirt.

He finally got he trousers up but no way would theyy button. He used his belt on the last notch to keep the pants up. A quick glance in the mirror showed him the stereotypical joke of the dumb policeman, stuffing his face with donuts all day long. While all appeared normal from ankles to thighs, the belt looked like a dam meant to hold back water that was being overwhelmed by a tidal wave of flab. A thick muffintop ran round his sides, rolling into the round fatness that was his paunch.

A mental promise to start a weight loss program today and he pulled on enough outer wear to battle the snow outside in the 2-block walk to the office. He was the last one to arrive, puffing slightly from the walk. Since when did a little stroll exhaust him? he wondered. Since you've become a fatty, lardass! replied the pain in the ass in his head. He tried to remove his sweater facing the wall and back into his desk area without his colleagues seeing the shocking state of his shirt. The three women were far from stupid though and immediately flocked around him, much to his discomfort poking his belly and patting his muffin top appreciateively, relishing the results of their handiwork and praising thier protege. Lily related Peter's gluttony the evening before, ending with "he barely even woke when Gus took him back home!"

Peter slid uncomfortably into his chair and booted the PC. His shirt was so tight he could barely breathe. Looking at him Mathilda said kindly:
"You'll want to go get a shirt a couple of sizes up dear"
"Oh!" said Peter, blushing bright red, "i'm starting a diet today, I really need to lose some."
To his utter chagrin, his three colleagues exchanged a glance and burst ino laughter.
"Oh don't be offended" laughed Nancy, "We've seen a few men in our time and believe me, someone who likes eating as you do is only going to get bigger."

The laughter ended quickly when the PA to the chief, a close friend of Mathilda popped in and whispered briefly to the older woman before dashing off again. A serious look on her face, Mathilda announced quietly "Surprise inspection today".

That meant a group of senior officials would be touring all offices ensuring everything was in order, all spit and polish as per regulation. Peter looked down at his belly in horror, such a sight was sure to get a negative comment. He quickly fired a message round the unit to warn his buddies in other locations: not really allowed but everyone knew it would happen anyway.


Marcia opened the message as it flashed onto her screen.


Inspection?! Today? Surely this was a joke. Marcia jumped up and started clearing her office. She had forgotten to leave her dustbin outside for the cleaners so it was still full of the debris from earlier in the week. Two boxes used for take out pastries from Jill, one foil pack from a take out lunch courtesy of Mrs Tueng. She quickly tied up the bag and took it out, tossing it into a larger bin in the mall.

Back in the office, the rest was quickly organised as it was so small. She took off her sweater and tried to close the zipper again. no luck. She sat in her chair, frozen, unsure what to do next. She could not possibly greet a superior officer visibly too fat for her uniform, equally she didn't want to call Jill for help. Marcia was still trying to recollect what had happened yesterday and then sort out her feelings about it. She hadn't found any cheesecake left this morning, so that meant Jill had taken the leftovers with her.

Recalling how badly she needed this job, and how hard she had trained to get it, Marcia swallowed her pride and called Jill.
"Hey babe, I didn't see you today, you OK"
"UM.. yeah... look I need your help."
"OK tell me"
"I need you here."
"At home?"
"No I'm in my office, come quickly"

Marcia tracked Jill on the cameras, leaving her cafe and heading to her own office. She quickly changed the screens as Jill arrived and knocked. Marcia let her in and turned to give her her back, saying
"Please help me close this, my boss is coming round for an inspection!"
Jill was instantly aroused, seeing the chubby blonde so flustered and trying to pack her soft body into the tight uniform. She grabbed the zip and tried to pull up. It didn't budge.
"You need to suck it in babe" she tried to keep the laughter out of her voice.
"I am!" cried Marcia in a panic.
"This thing?" asked Jill, slipping her hands round Marcia's waist and grabbing her soft belly.
"I think it's too full of cheesecake" teased Jill.
"Um... about that. Did you take the rest back?" asked Marcia, starting to breathe more raggedly, getting turned on by Jill's magic hands and teasing.
"Rest of what?" asked jill
"That divine cheesecake you brought me."
"There was none left. It's all in here babe" said Jill caressing Marcia's belly. Whereas yesterday evening it was taut, pushed out by the mountain of food the piggy had ingested, this morning it was softer, the thousands of extra calories already turning to soft, pliable, glorious fat.

Marcia knew she should feel disgusted at her actions the day before, especially gorging on an entire cheesecake by herself. Indeed a tiny warning light at the back of her mind blinked, trying to catch her attention. But more present and overpowering was a feeling she had never felt before, of intense satisfaction, pleasure at the hands rubbing her tummy, teasing her fat, flab being pinched between fingers. What was happening to her?

Out of the corner of her eye Marcia saw a message flash up on screen, bringing her back to reality with a bang.
"Stop that" she said, pushing Jill's hands away, "you made me this fat, now help me fit into this stupid uniform!"
Jill tried again, no luck.
"Give me a minute" said the baker "I have an idea".

She was back in a couple of minutes with a brown paper bag.
"What's in there?" asked Marcia suspiciously.
Wordlessly Jill pulled out a catering roll of cling film.
"What am I meant to do with that?" asked Marcia exasperated. Although a horny devilish part of her brain half wished Jill had some kinky game in mind.
"Now you really need to suck it in" commanded Jill, and proceeded to wrap the plastic film round Marcia's belly.
"I don't believe this!" cried Marcia "you're making me a belly wrap!"
"Only way to keep this hot belly under control babe. You need to go up a size or two"she added not unkindly. Jill thought she come there where she stood, squishing the fat belly this way and that, wondering whether the cling film would stand up to the pressure of the flab it contained.
Marcia stood there, having never felt so embarrassed in her life. How had she ended up like this?

The wrapping done, Jill pulled at the zipper firmly, working it up Marcia's back inch by inch.
"There! we're done!" she said happily.

While the cling film helped them to close the uniform, it was by no means a disguise for the policewoman's weight gain. From the thighs anyone could see the fabric stretched tight over the fleshy body it encased. Over her bum the individual stitches could be seen as the seam battled to do its job. Over the belt her belly bulged out sideways into two thick rolls and frontwards her belly jutted out noticeably. The breasts trying to escape the confines of the uniform looked more appropriate to a high class stripper act than a police office on active duty.

"I can't breathe" whispered Marcia "I hope she comes soon". Just then her mobile rang. It was Fiona , her superior saying she'd arrived at the mall and couldn't remember which floor the office was on. Marcia quickly kicked out Jill, who left with a slap to Marcia's fat butt, saying
"you'll rock babe, don't sweat it".

Marcia waited outside her office for Fiona, a long-serving sergeant known for her bitterness at being passed over for countless promotions. She put it down to nepotism and favouritism towards ass-kissing men or pretty women. Built like a tank herself, she had started to accumulate some flab as she past forty, but could still floor many men her weight - she was not nicknamed the Sherman for nothing. When she had been told buntly that her attitude held her back she dismissed it as bullshit.

She had a grudge against Marcia before she even met her as normally police officers had to sweat through patrol for a couple of years before getting a special assignment. The credit card unit was different because the strategy called of people with a certain background that couldn't be found within the existing force. Added to this injury, Marcia was a blonde bombshell, perfect material in Fiona's eyes for sailing her her up the ranks.

Despite disliking her, Fiona had no qualms in seeking credit for her charge's hard work. Looking up as she strode along in her police swagger she could immediately see something different about the blonde. Fiona's records showed that hse had been slack in monitoring this office, having only seen Marcia in person on her first shift. Since then all communication had been via email or phone.

So that made a gap of two months, perhaps two and a half snce she had last seen her. Marcia's forced smile fell as she saw the Sherman approach like her namesake, face like thunder, in full swagger.
"Good morning Ma'am" she said with a cheerfulness she didn't feel.
"You got fat!" Fiona didn't mince her words, poking Marcia in the belly. Her stubby finger sank in till the second knuckle.
"Have you done nothing at all but eat since I last saw you?"
"Ouch.. ah" mumbled Marcia, face redder than the Christmas decorations around them.
"Lost the map to the police gym?" insisted the Sherman, "I can't believe my eyes!"
"I'm sorry, um... family problems and..." Marcia petered off seeing that she was not cutting it with her superior office. "I'm starting a diet today and will get back to the gym" she promised.
Fiona snorted in derision and pushed past her and checked round the office.
"Huh, I thought I'd find in here full of empty food wrapping" she said, "unless you just threw it all out." The look of guilt on Marcia's face told her she was right. She poked Marcia in the gut again and sat at the desk asking Marcia to talk her through what she did. As they scanned the cameras Marcia noticed the hot plumper she often admired making her way to Jill's.
"Ha, there's another fatty" snarked Fiona, "friend of yours?"
Marcia looked, then said "she's a regular but I never spoke to her".
"Huh. Looks like you found the same cookie jar" continued Fiona nastily. Marcia fought back tears. She knew she had gained some weight, but the other woman was in a different category altogether, well past 200 pounds and round all over. She was sure they were both a lot prettier and sexier than the Sherman, even with their fat.

"Well we're done here, you can buy me a coffee" ordered Fiona.
They walked up to Jill's place, the Sherman insisting they take the stairs as she wanted to check out Marcia's fitness level. She managed the two flights without problem but she seemed to have trouble breathing.

"Are you winded after just two flights?" pounced Fiona. In fact it was the cling film restricting her chest expansion that gave trouble but Marcia just puffed "No, I'm fine". Fiona peered at her intently then moved on. They arrived at Jill's bagel place, now busy in mid-morning swing. The two uniformed ladies got a lot of looks, many lingered on the pretty blonde's one's swollen figure. Fiona found a table while Marcia went to the counter to order the drinks. Jill saw them entering together to kept her tone professional.

Lowering herself gingerly to sit across from Fiona, Marcia could actually hear the plastic film creak under her uniform. She had to keep her tummy sucked in to sit, where she was in direct line to see her fat fantasy woman going through her ritual with the donuts. She flicked out her pink tongue through her plump lips. It was a lot sexier up close than through a grainy camera lens and Marcia struggled to keep her attention on her boss, who was teasing her.
"I bet you come here quite often, huh?"
"It's the only place with good coffee, the machine is awful."
"And you probably take quite a few donuts, or do you prefer muffins?"

Marcia saw the plump woman turn to follow their conversation and she blushed.
"Uh, no, not often."
"Really," laughed the plain sergeant, "then where did this gut come from?" she reached round and dug a finger deep into the younger woman's belly. With the shock and the pain Marcia couldn't keep it in any longer. She exhaled completely and felt her uniform take up the stress of the unrestrained fat of her body.

Triple stitched, the zipper held fast but the material split down her side from armpit to waist, the cling film also tearing apart. Marcia jumped up in shock, then realising she was making more of a spectacle of herself, crouched down, as though to make herself smaller. Unfortunately this caused her plumped up butt to put undue pressure on the pants, which burst apart alongside the seam. This revealed the chubby policewoman's soft pale bum, her thong swallowed up by the butt cheeks. In shame, Marcia sat on her chair again and held her head in her hands in numb shock, the entire coffee shop staring at her.

The next part happened quickly, but it seemed to be slow motion to Marcia. Fiona, delighted at the turn of events got up and started making fun of her charge. She pulled the ends of the cling film out.
"What on earth is this, were you trussed up like a turkey in there? Haha" she laughed cruelly, "you've certainly fattened up like a turkey!" while poking Marcia's flab and pinching her muffin top. The plump client got up from her seat and stood between the two policewomen, castigating Fiona for her treatment of the younger woman.
"You're one to talk!" shouted sergeant Sherman, "fatter than a pig and sitting here stuffing your face. Look at that chocolate on your mouth!"
Before the hot fatty could strike Fiona, Jill intervened, calmly asking Fiona to leave and her client to calm down. Realising she was offside, Fiona made her way out, but not before turning to Marcia. "You get down to the centre and pick up a couple of uniforms in size 12 or whatever you are now. You're a disgrace to the PD!"

Jill and the plumper helped Marcia into the kitchen, where she finally burst into tears, plucking at her ruined uniform in disbelief. Jill hugged.
"I'm so sorry babe, you don't deserve that"
"It's your fault!" shouted Marcia "you lead me down this route to fat. A cappuccino here, a bagel there, then a donut, opening my appetite for this fattening food."
"Hey, hey" called the plump woman, having introducing herself as Donna. "I'm fatter than you right, so I can say this. Who did all the eating? Did anyone tie you to a chair and feed you till bursting?" why did that thought make her feel so hot instantly, what was wrong with her?
"I.. I guess.." said Marcia, sadly. She had to admit that Donna was right. Maybe Jill had pointed out the way, but she had walked the slippery slope herself. She couldn't even pretend that she slipped or walked slowly, tentatively down the path to fat. Oh no, this little piggy had gone running, breaking records, arms open to consume every last morsel on every plate. Even the cheesecake last night; she distinctly remembered Jill asking her permission before feeding her.

Donna sat by Marcia, hugging her, stroking her and calming her down while Jill tended to her customers outside. Marcia leaned into Donna's hug, inhaling the soft musky scent of her perfume, smelling the sugary donuts on her breath. Marcia noticed Donna's fat belly squeezing over her tight skirt. Looked like someone else had also indulged over Christmas and would be needing to go up a size soon. Once she calmed down Donna lent her her coat to cover up her burst uniform and they walked together to Marcia' s office, where she returned the coat.

Despite Donna's pleas for Marcia to apologise to Jill for her outburst, the plump policewoman left without speaking to her friend.


The morning passed quietly, everyone sluggish after overeating the day before. The expected spike in usage of stolen credit cards had not kicked off yet. Peter stuck to his guns and managed to refuse donuts offered to him twice. By 11 however he was starving, and wondered what to do for lunch. The canteen was not a patch on the home-cooked meals he grown accustomed to, he thought gloomily. By 11.30 his stomach was grumbling loudly for food. Nancy supportively brought him a couple of dry crackers from a colleague down the corridor.

By 12 he was ready to eat his table and stood to go forage in the canteen. Just then Lily brought two huge tupperware containers. Peter stopped, willing himself to keep moving. Lily opened the containers, he smell of christmas dinner wafting across the office. Before he knew what he was doing, Peter found himself seated at his desk, tearing into a large plate of heaven. He could feel his shirt protest as his gut swelled out, enjoying the feeling of fullness as the goodness slid down his throat. His buttons fought valiantly to contain the added pressure but finally with a loud pop one shot off, bouncing off the wall and landing on Mathilda's desk.

The women laughed. Peter looked at his belly for a second, registering the fact that he was now so fat he had literally burst out of his clothes. He kept on eating, ploughing through the food as though it were his last meal. When Lily wordlessly handed him a large slice of apple pie, smothered in cream, he took it with one hand, shoved his plate to the side and tore in. Lost in a world of his own, Peter guzzled down the dessert, registering that something was amiss as he licked the plate clean.

Noticing a deathly silence in the room he looked round, only to see Chief Harris staring at him, a face like thunder.
"Quite done now?" boomed the Chief of Police. An imposing figure, he was built like Desperate Dan of the old Dandy comics, tall with a barrel chest. Usually good natured, he flared to a temper instantly, although bad moods were often short-lived.

Peter stared at him aghast.
"I asked are you done yet officer?" shouted Harris.
Peter tried to stand but hit his thigh on the desk and fell back heavily into his chair. He pushed it back and stammered "yes sir".
"Too fat to stand are you? no wonder with that huge gut there hanging out your shirt" bellowed the Chief. Peter stood there, burning red with embarrassment, vainly sucking in his gut, too late trying to limit the damage. Harris walked up to him and poked his paunch, pale and stuffed, threatening to rip the next buttons.
"Jeez, what have you been eating to blow up like this? Didn't you just make finish academy?"
"I, uh, yes sir, in September. Sir"
"Harris pulled at Peter's belt. "And you can't even do up your pants? Fuck me, what a blimp."
Harris looked round the office and saw the three women, whom he knew well. In fact his wife was a close friend of Nancy and they met socially.
"You three stop feeding him up alright!" he instructed.
"Stop." he halted their protests. "I know what you're like and it's no wonder Porky Pig here can't fit through the door."
"You" he turned to Peter. "You know you'll have an annual check up in summer and I doubt you can run a lap right now so you better start to lose this" he sad, slapping Peter's gut, watching the flab shake.
"Get your shit together or I'll have you patrolling downtown, you'll soon burn off a gut there!"

He left the room and Peter sank into his chair, wondering how he had gone from the leanest guy at Academy to a zeppelin in ten weeks. As he settled into place, his pants gave up the battle and ripped from waist to thigh, completing his embarrassment.


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Following the disaster at Jill's, Marcia spent the day in her office. At first she wore her sweater but it got too hot with the central heating so she ended up working in her ruined uniform. As lunch time drew near her tummy rumbled. She ignored it. Diet. Weight loss. Cheesecake. Damn!

The only healthy options for lunch were veg from the Fruit Basket or, oddly enough, a wholemeal bagel from Jill, with low fat fillings. She had never had one of those, preferring the Swiss Special - a calorie bomb of fried chicken and bacon, brie and mayonnaise. As the clock ticked towards 2 pm Marcia was getting pains of hunger, still she didn't want to go out. Word would surely have made it round the mall and she didn't want to be made fun of. She was interrupted by a knock at the door. Pulling on hr sweater quickly she looked out through the peephole. It was a waiter from Mrs Tueng's. Marcia could smell the food he bore from inside. Cashew chicken.

Marcia opened the door slightly.
"Hello, the boss asked me to pop along with some food."
No said Marcia in her head. You really don't need this you fat pig. Just say no.
"Oh thanks" she said, taking the bag from his hand and turned to place it on her desk. She bent over to find her purse in her handbag and felt a breeze across her bum. Huh? With a shock she remembered her burst open pants and jumped around. Way too late, the waiter's eyes were glued to just below waist level.

Not even offering him any money, Marcia slammed the door shut in his face. How much more could she embarrass herself? Sitting down, she opened the bag and found that Mrs Tueng had prepared for hr a mixed dish of starters, a double portion of cashew chicken and another double of fried rice. Now thought Marcia you don't need to guzzle it all down, there's enough here for four adults. You're perfectly capable of taking only part now, and keep the rest for dinner.

Only it turned out she wasn't capable of that. Twenty minutes later she was more than half way through the food. One hand slipped inside the tear in her uniform , massaging her quickly bloating belly, the other chucking more food down her greedy gullet. Stop! a small part of her mind shrieked do you want to get as fat as Donna, with a huge gut on your lap when you sit, forcing your legs apart? Oh yes shouted another part of her mind unexpectedly, and she found herself coming as she ate.

Finishing the meal she sat back with a sigh, and burped a couple of times. She released her seat back so it reclined more. Even torn halfway apart, her uniform was tight over her tummy, and she rubbed it contentedly. She really needed a coffee now, help her power through the afternoon, but there was no way she'd go to Jill's again. Slowly, the sated piglet dozed off in her chair.

She awoke with a start, confused. Had she just slept at work? she checked her watch, 3.30 pm. A knock came at the door. In a panic the chubby blonde peered through the peephole and saw Salim. Pulling on her sweater she opened the door slightly.
"Oh, hi Salim"
"Hello Marcia, I didn't see you so I worry you don't eat. Here is lunch" he said, thrusting a paper bag into her hands before turning away, refusing her offers to pay.

She placed the bag on the desk and took off her sweater again. Really not what she needed. And for once she didn't even feel like eating, still stuffed from the Chinese. She checked her monitor quickly. She didn't even want to think about what would happen if she'd had an alert and missed a fraudster. Luckily there was nothing for her, all the action seemed to be at the other end of town.

The smell of grilled lamb emanated from the bag. She tried to ignore it then took a peek. A doner kebab in pita bread smiled back. She left it and turned to her desk again, trying to focus on her emails. Another quick look. The doner waved at her. Almost as though she had control of her body, she found her hand slipping into her torn uniform to caress her swollen belly, the other reaching for the kebab. Pulling it out she saw that there was also a full portion of couscous. Oh no she thought, oh yay said her head.

Eating the food, she again found herself coming. She hadn't figured out yet if it was the belly massage, the eating itself or - much more scary - the thought of getting fatter. Finishing up, she wiped the sauces from her lips and stood up. She needed to use the loo badly now and pulled on her coat. She just pulled t together in front, didn't bother closing it as long as it hid the torn seam on her rump and the side of the top part.

She got to the loos without incident and returned relieved to her office. As she swiped her badge to enter she felt a hand on her shoulder and froze. Then heard Jill's gentle whisper.
"I didn't see you again so I brought you a coffee."
Marcia turned, took the coffee. Americano. No cream, no sweets.
"OK thanks" and entered her little office.
Jill pushed in quickly behind her, starting to speak
"Look I'm really sorry for what happened to you up there this morning, and I can't bar to lose you as a frie..." she tailed off as Marcia moved, revealing the desk full of the detritus from the chinese and kebab.

Marcia shrugged off her coat and sat, her uniform tearing a bit more as her bloated belly pushed out.
"I was wrong OK" said Marcia. "My overeating has nothing to do with you, it's my fault for being such a fat greedy pig."

The sight of the blonde sitting there, looking chubbier and hotter than ever was too much for Jill to take any longer. She hugged her friend and said
"I'm here for you, as a friend or just for coffee. Oh and by .the way, Donna has reported your boss for her show this morning."
"What?" asked Marcia in a panic. "Please tell me you're joking, that will kill my career!"
"Sorry babe. Donna works with the government and she's on a fair treatment board so she can't just walk away."


Well-Known Member
Jun 26, 2007
This story has such great potential. It's already terrific and at this point there are many great directions it can go in. The male seems to be a food addict and Marcia is a total Feedee and just doesn't know what that means yet. I would love to see her eat her way through every uniform size until she is put on suspension or fired. Then she could go to work for Jill. Or maybe the mall would hire her to do the same job as a private contractor with a similar outfit in increasingly larger sizes.
SO many possibilities!


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
This story has such great potential. It's already terrific and at this point there are many great directions it can go in. The male seems to be a food addict and Marcia is a total Feedee and just doesn't know what that means yet. I would love to see her eat her way through every uniform size until she is put on suspension or fired. Then she could go to work for Jill. Or maybe the mall would hire her to do the same job as a private contractor with a similar outfit in increasingly larger sizes.
SO many possibilities!
Thanks :) stay tuned I'm not done with them yet


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Mathilda reported to Peter that two other guys had also been instructed to get larger uniforms. He doubted they had blown off the buttons though. He actually knew them both from drinks at Murphy's - was there a connection there? They exchanged emails and agreed to go to the office handling uniforms the next morning. One of the guys would pass for Peter and the other.

On the way there they joked about their gain, but the laughs dried up as they reached the office. The first part was bad enough, they were made off to strip off together and have their measurements taken. One guy took the sizes and called them out, needlessly loudly to another, who typed them into a computer.

Peter stood in numb shock as his waist was called out. 30 inches it was in September, probably up to 32 by now he reckoned. The guy pushed his gut unnecessarily, then read out loudly "34, nah make that 36 inches". Peter gasped in horror. The guy said not unkindly, "You're around 35 but a 36 will fit fine whereas a 34 will be tight. Onto the scale."

Peter didn't have a scale at home so the last time he'd been weighed was at a record low in his adulthood at the end of Academy. 160 pounds on a 6-foot frame gave him a very healthy BMI of under 22. He must be up like 10 or fifteen pounds now. "One hundred eighty seven". Everyone in the room laughed at Peter's gasp, fulling his humiliation.

The other two guys were asked to proceed to the fitting room but Peter had to wait, embarrassed at waiting around in his underwear. Finally he was called into what looked like a doctor's clinic. A woman in scrubs came up to him, grabbed his upper arm and pinched it with a machine like a big stapler. "Ow, what..?" asked Peter, unhappy to be still running around almost naked and pinched without explanation.

A door opened and a doctor appeared. "through here please". Peter walked in. What was happening?
"Please sit down Peter. I'm Dr. Harry Brown,"
"Uh.. OK. is everything OK?" asked Peter, starting to get worried.
"You tell me Peter. How do you find your work?"
"Good" said Peter guardedly, still unsure where this was heading.
"Any stress, or worries? at work or maybe at home? woman troubles? finances maybe?"
"No, no , all OK. I'm doing well at work, I'm in a new unit which is proving itself, so that's actually great. All OK at home."
"Hmm." Dr Brown went quiet in the disconcerting way doctors do. "See the thing is Peter, you've gained a lot of weight in a short timeframe."
"Oh.. well, twenty pounds over Christmas eh" blustered Peter. He felt extremely vulnerable, sitting on a cold chair in a cold room, his pale and fat body the subject of too much attention.
"It's actually 27 pounds Peter. And your body fat has gone up even more which means some muscle has also turned to flab." The doctor managed to make flab sound like a dirty word, some ugly topic not to be mentioned amongst good company.
"Tell me about your eating habits" prompted Dr. Brown.

Oh oh. Peter thought about lying but realised there was no point. "See doctor, I relocated from Oklahoma so I have no real routine. I tried to go running but it's always so damn cold here. And I guess moving from the active life in academy to a desk job... well.. " trailed off Peter.

"Hehe" the doctor laughed for the first time. "I can see you haven't been running, except maybe onwards the fridge!" he continued rudely. Peter took the insult in silence. The doctor proceeded to give him some nutritional advice and devised a workout plan to help him drop 2 pounds a week. "That means in a year you'll be back to fighting weight!" ended Brown encouragingly.

Hmm thought Peter as he left the office, I'm clearly much more efficient at gaining than losing. Watching his step in the icy conditions, Peter was almost hit by a VW Golf that swung into the parking lot as he looked for his friends.

Marcia swerved round the guy stepping off the pavement, almost hitting the brakes then remembering at the last second not to. She parked and went in for her new uniform. Much to her dismay she found it was not a simple collection exercise. First she had to strip off to her underwear under the eye of a woman who waited with a measuring tape in her hands. This was going to be bad.

Marcia ran through her measurements when she was proudly fitted for her first uniform. Bust: 30" ; Waist: 23" ; hips 30". A featherweight 115 lbs at 5'6" she had a low BMI of 18.6. The academy training had firmed up her already lithe body, rather than causing her to lose weight. Now she guessed she had gained at least ten pounds. The woman started calling out numbers:

Bust: 36"
Waist: 30"
Hips: 36"

Marcia inhaled in shock after each one, then let herself be led to the scale. She stood there, unwilling to step on it, until the woman poked her in the muffintop.

Weight: 138 pounds.

Marcia was asked to wait for a doctor, shivering in her white undies, also too tight for her. A stern looking woman invited her to enter a room.
"I'm Dr. Brown" she introduced herself.
"So tell me, Marcia, what's going on here?"
Marcia didn't reply, her mouth dry, her arms folded across her belly, vainly trying to hide the flabby rolls. The doctor could have put her at her ease.
"I wouldn't bother my dear, what's done is done, and your fat won't melt away right now." Marcia gasped at the barb. The doctor pressed on.
"We get worried when a star graduate just weeks ago blimps up like you have. Are you bullied at work? any undue pressure?"
"No, no, work is fine" answered Marcia, still reeling from the insults. "There is some pressure but totally normal. Working for my dad was a lot worse" she quipped. Dr Brown didn't laugh.
"Tell me more." prompted the doctor.
Unwilling to open up to this critical stranger, Marcia gave a quick edited version of her circumstances. "Probably working alone at a desk means I snack more" offered Marcia.
"Hmm. That's a lot of snacking then, you've gained 23 pounds and seven inches round your waist!" commented Dr. Brown. Sexy weight jumped a thought in Marcia's head.

With some nutritional advice and instructions on how to lose weight Marcia was dismissed, well and truly humiliated.


Well-Known Member
Jun 26, 2007
A short chapter. And probably one of the best.
I had this thought of Marcia eating in the Food Court. Weighing 180 or whatever. Chocolate icing on her mouth. Stuffed. And suddenly a purse snatcher goes by. I would love to see your description of the foot chase. :)


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Wearing the new uniform made Peter realise just how tight the old one had been. The humiliation at the uniform centre helped him watch his diet into the new year. Unfortunately, Peter's idea of cutting back got to a point where he overate less then before, but still nowhere near eating healthily.

He still enjoyed lunch from his three colleagues but they gave him smaller portions now. With the interest from Angela, Peter could hardly abandon Murphy's although he thought about going to the gym more often. At the pub, Angela would sneak him extra food. If she handed out peanuts, she'd make sure a full bowl happened to be in front of Peter. He often stayed late so that his colleagues would leave and he'd be alone with her.

She noticed his new uniform immediately and teased him, saying he'd soon blow his way through this one too. He explained that he was already likely to fail his check up and had to get into shape by summer. However she saw no action towards it. Most days he would resist the "extra portions" she got wrong but if he drank a bit he was easily convinced.

She had very little free time as she worked every day but they managed a date or two. Angela was a sweet girl, seemed to have no objection to Peter's expanding waistline and indeed was packing more butt in her jeans herself. However Peter felt that when they were not pissed or eating, they had little in common and often ended up eating just to fill time. After one date at the end of January Peter stepped on the scale he had invested in and saw 195 flashing back at him. Jeez another 7lbs.


Marcia also tried to cut back and asked her food court friends to give her smaller portions. At Jill's she tried cutting back on the creamy sugary coffees she had become used to. She often had a coffee with Donna, always mesmerised at the fatter woman's unabashed enjoyment of her snacks. They had argued at first about Donna reporting Fiona the Sherman but Donna really was very high up and Marcia had heard nothing yet.

Getting fat was a frequent topic of conversation. Marcia started one time: "I admire the way you really enjoy your donuts here. You are so into it, you really feel no guilt at all, do you?"
"Why should I? I'm who I am and love it that way. I did the skinny bitch regime a long time ago and it doesn't work for me. I reckon if I was meant to be thin, there wouldn't be so much good food in the world!"
"OK. And your husband is OK with it?"
"George? hehe he loves it" laughed Donna through her donut.
"He likes you, er.. "
"Getting fatter. It's OK you can say it, I know I need to go up a size. Yes he enjoys feeding me, taking care of me…" she whispered the next part "he gets off seeing me in clothes that don't fit anymore."
Marcia found herself once more inexplicably turned on, her mind’s horny eye visualising the fat beauty prancing around her bedroom in her undies, her fat belly bouncing about and her husband slapping her plump arse.

Another time Marcia complained that despite "being careful" she was sure she had gained a bit more. Looking at her ass, starting to fill out the bigger pants, neither Jill nor Donna could disagree.
"But you're not actually overweight" said Donna. "I checked your sizes and your BMI is still well within normal."
"My sizes?" asked Marcia.
"Yes, you said you were 138 lbs at 5'6", that makes a BMI of only 22. And before at 115 lbs you were nearly underweight.

Marcia mumbled something.
"Excuse me?" asked Donna.
"I said 144. I'm up to 144 pounds now. That's six more than a month ago." said Marcia, resting a hand on her belly. "I don't know where this will end."


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Another fantastic this one!
Thanks :blush: high praise coming you as I'm a long time fan of your work. In fact I've steered off describing Donna in too much detail for the risk of her becoming too similar to one your well padded office gals.

Next part coming soon


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
For both our protagonists Christmas day had been a turning point, one that saw them face up to their weight gain and after the uniform blowouts, attempting to restrain their appetite. By contrast Valentine's day was a turning point in the other direction: it set them both off eating again.

Jill had cooled her attention to Marcia. The policewoman had explained that as much as she wished to find the happy zen place where Donna lived, her reality was one where gaining weight would cost her a job that she had worked really hard for, that had made her break with her family and in which she was doing well. They reached a point where Marcia could still have her coffees there, but Jill only offered her a treat once or twice a week. They didn't go out together in the evenings anymore, Marcia was scared - with good reason - that alcohol and Jill combined wouldn't bode well for her.

As the 14th February approached, the mall took on a new look, bedecked to celebrate love. Or more cycnically, to get people to spend loads that they didn't need to on a meaningless day. Valentine's was a good day for Marcia at work. She co-ordinated the arrest of one credit card thief on an alert from HQ. She liked Peter and worked well with him, he was very bright and gave crystal clear information, allowing her to make the call from her end. He also tried really hard to make the sole officers on location feel like part of the group, sending round updates to all and sharing successes, no matter how small. Video conferencing had been ruled out to favour quicker transfer of financial information, which could sometimes be huge packets of data.

She remembered Peter from police academy. They were the best of each sex and top position in any challenge usually went to one or the other of them. She liked his Southern drawl and easy going nature, his good looks and dark hair didn't hurt either. Maybe in other circumstances they'd have fallen for one another, but they were all too focussed on training. She looked down at her gut, which was already starting to fill her new, larger unifrom. She bet Peter hadn't gone and gorged himself three sizes up, he was probably in the gym every day - as she should be - and fitter than ever.

Getting confirmation of the arrest from Marcia, Peter's team burst into applause and back clapping. The unit dispersed and went back to their offices. He liked working with Marcia best of all. She asked the right questions, gave the right info and left him time to think. Once she had the details she was the best at keeping track of the theives while they made their way round the mall. Take today for instance. Marcia had followed the perpetrator from camera to camera till he suddenly disappeared. Her knowledge of the mall told the squad to fan out and catch him under the escalator on the ground floor. Other field officers would have panicked and split up the squad cops, giving the perp enough time to escape.

Peter thought back to their time on the academy. Marcia was the hottest of the lot, blonde, tall enough and fitter than anything. She made him push himself harder and harder to beat her, and sometimes he didn't manage. He was sure she'd be a regular at the gym, kicking everyone's ass while he turned to dough. His new shirt was already almost filled by his gut when he sat down.

Peter had been honest with Angela and let her know that he didn't see anything serious in their relationship. She took it worse than he'd expected and she left insulting him about his southern accent, his weight gain and the tight clothes he insisted on wearing. He still thought about losing weight and hitting the gym, so didn't see the point in wasting money on new clothes he'd only wear for a short time.

He still went to Murphy's almost daily; the apartment was empty and made him alone. His mates came less often, trying to lose weight, and he came in for more teasing himself now that his paunch was more noticeable so he tried to avoid munching too much. He wasn't even aware that it was Valentine's until he reached Murphy's and saw a few tacky decorations strung up. On seeing him enter, Angela marched up to a guy sitting alone in a booth and kissed him on the lips. Whispering something in his ear the bloke looked at Peter and they both laughed.

Peter ignored them and went to the bar, finding only one other policeman today. Peter plonked himself on a bar stool, feeling his flab ooze over the belt as he sat. They had a beer together cynically dissing Valentine's day then the other cop left. Peter had half a glass left so he stayed on, sipping it, watching the news on TV. With no warning, he felt two hands grab his muffintop from behind and he instinctively sucked his gut in.
"No point sucking it in, you're getting fatter and fatter officer" bitched Angela nastily, "you're gonna need another stool to park this flab on."

Peter looked round. With the noise in the bar no-one seemed to have heard. Stiffly he swung himself off he stool and drained his beer. He reached for his coat and dropped it. He bent over double, cursing his clumsiness, while Angela took the opportunity to grab the thick roll of flab formed by his belly and say "you just keep eating fatso, you'll always be alone on Valentine's".

Leaving the bar he started home from a different route as he still had no desire to return. What had he done wrong with Angela, he wondered? They had had some fun, he always treated her with respect and as soon as he knew it was not going to be long-term he had told her. Women, he thought shaking his head, he'd never understand them.

A block from home he felt a raindrop, then another. Looking up he saw from the clouds he had no time to make it to his apartment and looked around desperately. With a leap in his heart he saw he was outside the Italian place he had eaten on Christmas day. He entered quickly and just missed the downpour. He only intended to take shelter from the rain, possibly have a drink to be polite.

He had forgotten the Italian hospitality. Before he knew what was happening, a waiter had removed his coat and seated him at a table romantically set for two.
“Does your signora come soon?” asked the waiter.
“Hehe” laughed Peter “no I’m alone, I’ll only take a…” but the waiter had left. He reappeared with a glass of almost clear liquid, bubbly.
“Prosecco sir!” beamed the waiter. “On the house.”

Peter sipped at the sparkling wine, looking around the place. It really was a lovely restaurant, homely and warm, only very slightly tacky.
“You eat alone eh?” he heard. Looking up he saw the owner, the fat woman who had welcomed him for Christmas lunch.

“Oh, I’m afraid I’m not eating today, I just came in to escape the rain.” Seeing a dark frown cross her face he added “I’ll pay for this” pointing to the prosecco.
“You are alone eh?”
“On San Valentino?”
“Er… I guess.”
“And you go home to no-one?” it was an accusation more than a question.
“I… uh.. just broke up with my girlfriend…”
“Then is settled. You eat here” she commanded. “With good food you are never alone”. What a fantastic mantra thought Peter. I could subscribe to that. Submitting to the inevitable he went to pee, might as well get the beer out and make space for whatever was coming. Now he admonished his reflection in the bathroom. There’s no need to gorge on everything in the plate, you’re an adult and can take a good portion without overdoing it. Your annual check-up is already almost two months closer since your uniform humiliation and all you’ve done is gain 7 pounds.

A jug of wine was served then a plate of antipasti, little appetizers, made its way to Peter’s table, and soon thereafter into his stomach. Little squares of bruschetta, a variety of hams and cheeses all enjoyed one by one. The restaurant started to fill, couples of all ages sitting at the tables. Peter played a game of imagining their life story, seeing young couples still at the start of their relationship, possibly even a first date, unsure of the rules of the game. Stilted conversation and nervous laughs. Where to place their hands? How long to hold fingers linked across the table? And other couples older, comfortable with one another, $hands finding their place without hesitation, conversation easy.

A waiter gave Peter a bowl of soup, and a plate of croutons to go with it. The thick and creamy tomato soup was soon history, giving way to the starter. A huge plate of linguine, black with squid ink “nero di seppia” with a sauce of prawns and avocado cooked in cream. Peter had never seen or tasted it before and took a tiny portion at first, winding one strand of the pasta round the fork and nibbling at it gingerly. A moan of pleasure escaped him as the flavours fought for dominance on his tongue, then married together in glorious harmony as they slid down his throat. He took a real serving, then another and another until he laid waste to the plate. For the first time since getting them, he felt his belly push against the waistband of his trousers.

To his surprise Peter was given a little shot glass of sorbet.
“Is the meal over already?” he asked.
“No” the waiter could only laugh at the look of dismay on the cop’s face. “It is a sorbet to help digestion between courses.”

Peter enjoyed the refreshing tang of the lemon sorbet and sipped wine between courses. As the first diner, he was ahead of the other tables and so had no idea what was to come. Conversely other patrons tried to make out what he had to see what they were getting. As more couples filed in, Peter started to feel a tad self-conscious. There he was, a fat cop in uniform, sitting alone on lover’s day, stuffing his face like a pig.

The main course quickly made him forget his worries. As the first patron of the evening to be served the main, the owner delivered it complete with silver dome. Pulling it off with a flourish, she revealed a real cordon bleu: a full two pound fillet of beef cut lengthways and filled with Italian parma ham and mozzarella. A bowl of blue cheese sauce accompanied it, along with a dish of fries and another of veg. Peter got hold of his cutlery and entered battle.

He poured some sauce onto the plate, then cut into the mountain of beef, the melted mozzarella oozing out of the sides. Lifting the piece to his lips he relished the moment, first inhaling then tasting the grilled beef, the salty ham counterpointed by the subtle mozzarella. The cheese sauce then came into its own, a powerful kick but not so strong that it overpowered the meat, so creamy it just ran down his gullet. Peter ate his way through the delicious meal, pausing briefly to loosen his belt a notch. Warning bells rang in his head but he ignored them and ploughed on, washing it down with the glorious red wine.

At one point a fry fell off his fork and onto his belly. Looking down to pick it up, Peter saw his belly blown out, rounder and fuller than he had ever seen it. Perhaps Angela was right. He may be destined to eat his way to fat solitude. Swallowing the last bite, he slumped back in his chair, too full to move, to breathe even. He sat there gasping slowly, getting a fair mix of disgusted and admiring looks from other patrons around him. Why was he so turned on?

Another sorbet made its way to his table. He felt too full to take it but knew it would help so he took it slowly. Looking around Peter noticed that other people were being served smaller portions than him, nearly half the size in fact. When the owner passed by his table, Peter stopped her and invited her to sit down opposite him. He may have been a trifle tubby, but was positively anorexic next to this mamma. Tipping the scales at some 350 lbs, she overflowed the chair on all sides, half of each butt cheek bulging out like balloons. Her belly sat on her lap, bigger than a beach ball. Drooping down, it forced her thick legs apart. Her tight dress showed off every curve and every bulge, every roll of blubber.

Peter poured a glass of wine and handed it to her.
“My compliments” he said. “That was possibly the best meal I’ve ever had.”
She nodded, accepting the compliment as a matter of fact.
“Better than Christmas?” she asked.
“I’m even more impressed now. How can you remember me from such a busy day almost two months ago?”
“I remember my clients.” She said simply.
“I must ask,” he said, “why was my portion double the size of others?”
“Because some people need more food than others.”
Peter grabbed his bloated belly with both hands and shook it. “Do you seriously think I need more food than I clearly already eat?”
“Yes” she said. “Some people eat just for fuel, like you put petrol in a car. Look at her” she pointed to a couple in their forties. He was of normal size, perhaps some middle age spread but she was stick thin. Whereas he dug into his food with gusto, she was picking at it, pushing it around her plate. “She doesn’t need food like I make. Give her lettuce and she’s happy. Her man at least enjoys it, so it makes me happier. But I only get very few clients like you who truly love food, need it and deserve it.”
Peter shook his head. “You’re saying skinny people don’t deserve good food, but fat ones do?”
“It’s not about size. That other girl there is thin but look how she enjoys eating. In fact I believe she is holding back in front of her man, I’m sure if I had her alone she could match your appetite.” She stood up. “I have work to do. Thank you for the wine. Every time you come here I will take care of you.”

She returned from the kitchen bearing his dessert, a slice of triple layer chocolate cake so big it must have been a full quarter of a cake. Peter felt even fuller just looking at it. There was no way he could take even a bite. Except that he did. And then another, until he found himself eating the last bit, his gut stuffed beyond belief, packed hard to the touch. He sat comatose in his chair, hiccuping quietly. More sorbet didn’t help, neither did a digestive shot of Amaretto.

Eventually standing up to go, two waiters helped him wear his coat. In front the lapels had no chance of meeting across his huge distended gut. The owner came out again to bid him farewell. She patted his belly fondly and said “come back for more.” The belly pat made him burp and they all laughed.


Marcia had dinner at Mrs Tueng's that evening to celebrate the arrest. Since she was being careful with her weight, she went for beef and steamed rice. She didn't even finish the portion and took it away with her, feeling very proud of her control. Arriving back home she slipped out of her uniform and into her pajamas. Jill had bought her a cute shorts and top outfit of Hello Kitty, in a larger size. It was loose, just about around the New Year but was already filled with her round belly.

She kicked back on the sofa and opened Facebook, despairing as always at other people's posts. What petty problems they had. She wished to post "I got an asshole thief arrested today" but she wasn't allowed to. A second later she nearly dropped the laptop. She clicked on her sister's update, not wishing to believe.

A photo.

Of her fingers.

With a ring.

A big solitaire diamond ring.

Her heart thumping Marcia scrolled through the comments underneath, predictably congrats messages from Barbara's friends. But she hadn't even been seeing anyone back in October, how on earth did she have time to date while running a company on the verge of bankruptcy? And not just date, get him to propose too. Marcia sat up in a cold shock. In four months her sister had gained a lover and partner for life. She had gained a new job and... 30 pounds.

She called Barbara but her sister hung up without answering. She sent her a text message of congrats, and said she still wished them no ill and hoped to mend bridges. Marcia then stormed round her apartment, upset. She tried calling her parents, they didn't pick up. Some half hour later her phone rang, Barbara. Elated, Marcia answered, quickly saying: "Hi Babs, oh I'm so happy for you!"
"Who is this?" slurred her sister, clearly on the other side of sobriety.
"It's Marcia Babs, congrats!"
A silence followed, Marcia could hear champagne bottles popping and glasses chinking.
"Well I got the wrong number, never meant to call you. Don't think you're gonna be a part of this 'cos you're not" said Barbara cruelly.

If her body gave her a second to reflect, Marcia would have had a sense of deja vu as she raided the fridge to fill the hollow inside her. This time there were only low-fat options available once the Chinese doggy bag was emptied. Marcia pulled on a pair of boots, a coat over her pajama and headed out. At the McDonald's drive thru she ordered 2 big Mac meals, both large, with fudge sundaes. She stopped in the parking lot, took of her coat as it was now warm in the car and gorged on the food, relishing each greasy bite.

Finishing the meals she left and pulled in next door to the KFC drive thru. What are you doing? asked the voice in her head? One pit stop is comforting, more is just being fat. She ordered 2 meals with 6 extra chicken pieces on the side. The guy taking her order leaned out to hand her back the change and she caught him staring at her belly, sitting round and fat in her lap, the top stained with McDonald's.

She stared back and with a look of pity he waved her to the next window to collect her food. Pissed off by his attitude she decided to cause him trouble. When handed her 2 bags of food, she asked for more fries, saying she had ordered them from the guy. The shift manager took one look at the fat blonde in her pj’s and quickly handed her two bags of fries. She'd seen binge eaters before and didn't need the drama.

Again she parked in their lot and stuffed her face, biting into the crispy chicken with delight, the oil running off her chubby chops and onto Hello Kitty. By the time she was done, her belly stuck out beyond her breasts, taut and fat, pushing the top up so that she could feel a cool breeze on her tummy. She felt better than she had since her last blow out at work on boxing day. She returned home, stopping only for a gallon tub of ice cream at the all-night supermarket. Walking round the supermarket with only her coat covering her pajama and gluttony, she felt like she was doing something naughty, incredibly turned on.

Turning into another aisle she saw the back of a familiar figure. Surely this was destiny.


Well-Known Member
Jun 26, 2007
Nice chapter.
I wonder if the Sherman tank has been reprimanded to the point that she has to be nice to Marcia. Maybe she can pull a few strings and get her out of the PT test Or excused from the doctors check up just to get a new uniform. Even buying her lunch and then bringing the larger uniforms to her directly.
So many possibilities.


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Nice chapter.
I wonder if the Sherman tank has been reprimanded to the point that she has to be nice to Marcia. Maybe she can pull a few strings and get her out of the PT test Or excused from the doctors check up just to get a new uniform. Even buying her lunch and then bringing the larger uniforms to her directly.
So many possibilities.
Oh Sherman hasn't been forgotten, never fear :)


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
Feeling a tap on her shoulder Jill turned around. Her mouth fell open as she saw Marcia standing before her with her coat open, looking fatter than ever before. The hot mess was bursting out of her new Hello Kitty pajama, the top was stained with grease and stretched over her belly, a good two inches of belly flab showing between top and shorts. The latter encased her hips and thighs as though they were painted on. Marcia hefted the ice cream tub in her hand.
"Wanna feed a piggy?"


The girls were back on Marcia’s sofa, the blonde sitting up with her head thrown back, guzzling down the ice cream poured by Jill who stood over her. Jill had tried to help Marcia resist. Seeing the state Marcia was in she insisted on driving back and tried to talk her out of it.
“You can’t let your family’s bullshit attitude towards you set off a binge eating session”
“I just want to eat OK, I’ve been starving myself since Christmas.”
“You don’t want to do this Marcia, you can’t get any fatter or they’ll fire you.”
“I’m getting fatter while trying to lose weight, so fuck it. I’m hungry and I wanna eat.”
“You can’t be hungry, you look like you swallowed a watermelon.”
“No watermelon, just McDonalds. And KFC.”
“That’s really bad Marcia, you’re gonna get really fat eating this junk.”
“Exactly. Barbara gets married and I get fat.”
“Come on babe, we can talk.”
“You talk if you want. I’m gonna eat.”

And so on all the way home and into Marcia’s apartment. Once inside the blonde took off her coat and sat on the sofa. Jill excused herself quickly and came out of the bathroom to find Marcia slurping the ice cream, which was already quite soft as the cunning piglet had kept it in the hot air current of the car heater. Jill tried again, as much as she wanted to stuff the willing Marcia, she really wanted to look out for her friend.
“Stop Marcia, you know you’re going to regret this.”
“Shut up and feed me.”
“Seriously babe, you burst out of your uniform in Christmas and you’re even fatter now, you need to watch it.”
“You can go home or you can feed me. Either way I’m gonna down this.”

Jill was turned on by now and finally gave in to her desire. She took the tub from Marcia’s hands and held it over her head. “Open wide you hot piggy, you’re gonna learn what fat means!”
Marcia guzzled the smooth liquid, Jill’s soft belly caresses sending waves of pleasure through her body. Jill looked on in amazement, seeing the blonde’s belly inflating before her eyes. Already stretched out with her fast food binge, a gallon of ice cream made her look pregnant. Her tummy sat heavily on her lap, swallowing up her shorts, the gap between top and shorts now wide open.

“My God, you can eat so much” panted Jill.
“Uh huh” said Marcia between slurps, “A real pig”
“Oh yeah, a fat greedy piglet, do you know you look pregnant?” breathed Jill, tipping the last of the ice cream into the waiting mouth.
“I do?”
“Uh huh.”
“Show me”
“Stand up”

Marcia tried to get up but couldn’t. She pushed against the arm rest but collapsed back onto the sofa, the ice cream sloshing in her belly. The stuffed blonde looked at Jill in bewilderment.

“Oh my God” breathed Jill. “You’re actually too fat to stand!”
“I can stand!” argued Marcia, and tried again. She had to admit however that she couldn’t, so gave up and rubbed her belly instead. She let out a couple of hiccups. Jill helped her to stand up and had to keep supporting her; the blonde could barely stand alone. Slowly they staggered to a full length mirror near the front door.

Jill stood behind Marcia, her hands round the plump girl’s belly. Marcia stared at her reflection, mesmerised by the sheer size and roundness of her belly. The pajama outfit showcased her recent weight gain with full thighs, fleshy hips, muffintop and big juicy breasts on display. Her belly however jutted out as Jill had described, like a woman about to give birth. Marcia stared at the mirror as though unconnected to the two women there. The skinny brunette’s hand gently rubbed the fat blonde’s bloated tummy, who moaned in pleasure and gaspingly asked to be taken to bed before she collapsed right there.


Well-Known Member
May 12, 2007
The stuffing at the Italian restaurant had re-ignited Peter’s appetite as following that he resumed his earlier eating habits that he had fought so hard to limit. He begged the older ladies for more donuts, larger portions at lunch and resumed the weekly take-out. They tried to restrain him but his appetite was bigger than he could control. Having had too many comments from colleagues and Angela at Murphy’s regarding his expanding belly he had found another bar to spend his evenings. Here he enjoyed a couple of beers each evening, fortified by nibbles provided by the bar to keep punters drinking. He had given in to the obvious and bought some leisure clothes in his new size. The pants he noticed were 38”, up from the 36” of his new uniform.

Watching the sports on TV, he’d mindlessly gorge on peanuts, pretzel sticks, chicken wings or fries, slowly sinking a couple of pints. Whereas before some of the weight had accumulated on his thighs and butt, now it all settled on his gut, blowing out into a sizable paunch that within weeks again tested the buttons on his shirt. Looking at his reflection each morning as he showered he had mixed emotions: a part of him liked what he saw, rubbed his fat belly proudly and praised his new found girth. Another part screamed at him, asking what he thought he was doing to his once-lean body, and what he planned to do when he flunked the fitness test in August.

He saw and spoke to his family at least once a week. They noticed his gain, but being larger themselves they were not negative about it and he felt reassured. His sister must have found something she liked at college as she was also gaining weight. His sisters-in-law were not losing any weight either, seeming to loom larger on his monitor each time they spoke.

He started to make plans to visit home in May and arranged the vacation with work. This proved harder than he thought because the unit was becoming increasingly successful as they all become better at what they did and at working together. Criminals came up with new ways of stealing and defrauding the innocent every day and they had to be as quick to latch on to the new methods and devise traps, then work with the banks to close the loopholes.

He knew his larger uniform was getting tighter than it should be, but this was made obvious when Nancy said one morning at the end of March:
“You know you should go for a larger size Peter. You don’t want to be sent again by Chief Harris.”
“Plenty of time for that” said Peter, hiding the rising panic. “I can go a while yet in these.”
“These” said Nancy firmly “are beyond you. See how you’ve left your pants button undone, and your shirt looks like it’s going to blow apart any minute now.”
“Ah come on, it’s not that bad” said Peter, a pleading tone in his voice.
“Sorry dear, I’m just trying to save you the embarrassment.”


At the mall, Marcia had also lost the battle against her appetite. She started each day at Jill’s with a large cappuccino, extra cream and a pastry or two. Some days she had a good old donut or muffin, other days she let Jill tempt her with daily specials, a buttery French croissant, a Belgian waffle or other one off goodies. Jill knew that the policewoman would be peckish by 10 or 10.30 and always sent one her staff along with another pastry or two. Whenever Marcia was light on work and saw Donna at Jill’s she’d head up to meet her there for a chat and a nibble. She had still heard nothing yet from the report against Fiona except that she had a new superior whom she had yet to meet but was nice enough over email.

Marcia enjoyed a daily heavy lunch at the food court which to her delight had tripled in size, giving her the increased choice of soups, pizzas, pasta, burgers, hot dogs, Mexican, and sushi. She still visited her old chums Mrs Tueng and Salim and even ate bagels at Jill sometimes. Every evening she would stroll by the food court at around closing time. Wanting to keep on the right side of the plumping up policewoman, the owners or managers would invite her in for a bite: anyway they would bin the food otherwise. In a funny turn of events, Mrs Tueng took exception to this and whenever she saw Marcia leaving another restaurant with a swollen belly she’d give her a bag of take-out for home.

Naturally all the food she ate became visible in her figure. She continued to plump up all over, and by the end of March her thighs and butt packed out her uniform in wonderful softness that started to wobble as she walked. When she sat on a stool at Jill's there was no hint of the scrawny butt that used to easily fit. Now her butt squeezed over on each side, twin plump bulges that Jill saw expanding every day. Even her stride changed, as her thighs rubbed against one another, a new sensation for her. Her breasts also took some more weight, becoming rounder and heavier, but the biggest change was below them. Her belly was now undeniably fat, pouring over her belt and curving proudly outwards, more forward than her breasts by a good couple of inches. Her face too was fuller than before, with her cheeks getting chubbier.

Donna and Jill teased her good naturedly, though they were concerned as to what would happen when she flunked her check-up, as it was clear she would. During one of Donna's mid-morning donut adoration sessions, Marcia arrived near her table and leaned over to reach for a newspaper at the adjacent table, her belly hanging down impressively. She caught Donna staring at her belly, and raised her eyebrows questioningly.
"Oh nothing, nothing" said Donna hastily.
"Come on tell me" insisted Marcia, taking a bite of her first donut.
"It's just... you've changed is all. In a good way" she added quickly.
"I guess I've gained a bit huh?"
"You could say that" smiled Donna.
"It's not that bad is it?" asked Marcia worriedly.

Donna was not one to mince words. Jill, overhearing the conversation drew nearer.
"We-ell, you have put on quite a bit actually. Doesn't your uniform feel tight?"
"I guess it does. but it's OK, I'm being more careful." replied Marcia.
"No, you're not honey, don't you realise? I mean it's fun eating here together and all but you know we're gaining right?"

Marcia looked at Donna more carefully. As she was already fat it was perhaps harder to see a gain, but she did look a bit rounder, seemed to fill the chair more.
"I'm up a dress size since New Year, surely you are too?" continued Donna.
"I am not!" exclaimed Marcia.

"Then what's all this honey?" asked Donna. She reached across and grabbed a thick roll of Marcia's belly flab in one hand and shook it vigorously.
"OK so I gained some, but it's not too bad." huffed Marcia.
"I think you'd better go for a bigger uniform, you don't want a repeat of boxing day, do you?"
Marcia inhaled sharply. "That won't happen again!"
“Sorry dear, I’m just trying to save you the embarrassment.”

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