Forgotten_Futures
Well-Known Member
~BBW, Eating, ~SWG - A young woman finds sanctuary in an unimaginable group.
[Author's Notes: This is one shard of a practical application of a daydream concept I've had for years. Some of the backstory to the rest of the mythos will be told by this story, a look at a member of the "support group". That role will be made clearer in chapter 2 (which of course hasn't actually been written yet). Oh and, yeah, the classification list is going to grow too. As will the main character (beyond SWG rulings).]
Chapter 1, Part 1
Alyshia brushed out her toweled-dry hair, making a series of quick, practiced strokes. The smooth, silky mass of coppery strands settled over her shoulders and in between her bony shoulder blades. She felt a tug and gripped a group of strands halfway down from her scalp, carefully teasing out the knot.
Squaring her face in the bathroom mirror, Alyshia grabbed a hair tie, gathered her mane into a loose ponytail, and slid the tie into place, wrapping it around a couple times to keep the junction solid. She turned her head from side to side, admiring the reflection staring back at her.
Alyshia's mother had been Latino, the color of lightly creamed coffee, short, plump, and very curvy. She'd inherited large amounts of her mother, except for the woman's physique. Wide hips, a shapely butt, well formed breasts...
Her Caucasian father's primary contribution had been to even out the skin color to equal parts coffee and cream, as well as make her face longer and less rounded than her mother's. She supposed she also had him to thank for her baseline metabolism - while she'd never been as skinny as he, she'd remained slender almost her whole life with little exercise involved.
Throwing her damp towel on the rack to dry, Alyshia stalked to her bedroom. She lived alone in her apartment and the shades were drawn from the night before, so she didn't feel at all embarrassed to be walking around nude as a jay bird.
Pulling open the top dresser drawer, she hitched a bra up under her modest B-cup breasts, pulling a stretchy undershirt down over her torso. A pair of athletic shorts - perfect casual wear - went up her legs, over her hips, to be tied loosely at her waist. As her hands groped for the cords, her fingers and thumbs brushed against the new chub born of 2 weeks lazing around at home. Another gift from her mother. The times in her life where Alyshia had gained any significant amount of weight, she'd shown a marked tendency towards a plump belly and love handles. Things were going no differently now.
Until just recently, Alyshia had been a computer technician in the local office of a multi-national corporate entity. For reasons no one really understood, the business had recently begun downsizing its operations - and this had included disbanding the office Alyshia had worked in. The layoff was handled professionally, with a severance package larger than her four years with the company actually warranted.
Alyshia had enough money to live off for the next few months, and a small unemployment check would start coming in soon if she couldn't find another job. For the moment, however, hours she'd never had to find ways to spend were at her fingertips, and with a minimum of social prospects those hours soon found themselves whiled away in front of the TV set, often accompanied by a bag of chips, popcorn, or takeout.
Dumping a couple bags of buttered microwave popcorn into a bowl, Alyshia grabbed the morning paper, a grease-slicked cordless phone, and the bowl and plopped herself down on the couch, prepared for another listless day of talk shows, crime drama re-runs, and her favorite - calling Help Wanted numbers until her fingertips hurt. She was beginning to lose hope - she wondered if she'd ever even had hope - that she'd find something she was qualified for.
This behavior continued for another five weeks, during which Alyshia gained an additional 14 pounds as the snacking habit became more entrenched, in tandem with the growth of her appetite for junk food. She knew she should be worried about the whole situation - from willingly becoming a couch potato, to the near-constant snacking, and all the way onwards to her ever growing body. The sheer degree of desensitization she'd come to regarding her current lifestyle was no more apparent than when she found herself in the kitchen one particular morning in a bra and panties - having decided actual clothing was “too cumbersome to bother with” - the counter pressing into her midriff, hand groping about in an empty cabinet she'd sworn had been full just the other day.
Taking just microseconds to reflect on the situation - 'Since when did my stomach get fat enough to mold to the counter?!' - she hurried back to her bedroom, grumbling and cursing the whole way. Her stomach growled its impatience to be fed - simultaneously, the fact that she'd not bought any new clothes since getting laid off dimly penetrated the thick fog in her brain. She pulled on an undershirt - now skin tight - as well as a tank top and athletic shorts. She didn't expect any of her denim bottoms to fit around her pudgy middle, so she wasn't going to bother trying.
Stuffing her wallet into a side pocket, she grabbed her keys and headed over to the parking garage next door. She was blatantly aware of the small gap between her top and shorts, as well as the fact her undershirt was not covering that space either.
On the way to the grocery store, Alyshia passed by a local donut shop. Her stomach let out a vicious growl, and she reluctantly pulled into the parking lot. Entering the building, Alyshia was immediately overwhelmed by the deluge of scents assaulting her hunger-influenced nostrils. Any willpower she might have summoned crumbled at the sight and smell of those little inner tubes of fried dough.
Emerging a few minutes later with a half dozen donuts, she happily consumed them whilst driving the rest of the way to the supermarket. Considering a half-dozen donuts as a “snack” was becoming a habit with Alyshia, although she didn’t seem to have yet really noticed it..
Upon arriving she rustled up a shopping cart and began perusing the shelves. She stocked up on snacks, TV Dinners, soda, and a variety of other easy and largely unhealthy things. She was aware of the negative health aspects of her choices, but unable to restrain herself - she'd built up such a strong habit by now it was like attempting to stop a speeding rocket in vacuum with a sheet of paper stretched in its path. The thought both registered and died in a mere handful of nanoseconds.
Alyshia was startled out of her little stupor when she heard a pleasant baritone voice just behind her. She spun to face the source and found herself looking up at a modestly dressed man perhaps a few years older than her. He was much taller than she was - solidly built, with relatively short blond hair and a smile that said he'd seen too many bad things in his life. “I'm sorry, I didn't hear you...”
“I asked if you needed help. You were staring at the top shelf as though you wanted something up there.”
“Oh,” Alyshia blushed, “no, thank you. Just letting my mind drift a little.” Alyshia actually was short enough to have issues with the top shelf. Standing at only 5' 1”, height had long since been a problem for her.
The man, rather than continuing on his way, looked her up and down. His expression made it likely he was not checking her out, but the action made her conscious of her weight, embarrassing her nonetheless.
“You have the look of the unemployed; recent layoff?”
Alyshia was taken aback by his statement and question, but not so much as to refrain from answering. “Almost two months ago; how did you know?”
“Takes one to know one. Been there myself, actually. If I may, what did you do?”
“On-site computer technician, for a local branch of a large firm.”
“Oh yes, I saw that in the news. Terribly sorry. So... I take it you're still looking for a new job?”
“I've almost given up at this point. Why, you know of one?”
“I might. You could say I'm in the business of finding jobs for people. Like a Temp agency, only more permanent.”
The man pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to her. “Drop by my office some time, if you'd like.”
Alyshia accepted the card and thanked him, then continued on her way. She shopped a bit longer, then went up front to pay. She ended up with a dozen bags of stuff, all things she knew would add to her growing waistline at the rate she'd been going, but she really didn’t care to think about that..
She drove back to her apartment uneventfully, put the groceries away, and resumed her daily routine as if the morning's detour had never even occurred. Hours later, full of chips and popcorn, she climbed into bed no closer to having a job than she'd been the day before.
[Author's Notes: This is one shard of a practical application of a daydream concept I've had for years. Some of the backstory to the rest of the mythos will be told by this story, a look at a member of the "support group". That role will be made clearer in chapter 2 (which of course hasn't actually been written yet). Oh and, yeah, the classification list is going to grow too. As will the main character (beyond SWG rulings).]
Harem: Alyshia's Story
By: Forgotten_Futures
By: Forgotten_Futures
Chapter 1, Part 1
Alyshia brushed out her toweled-dry hair, making a series of quick, practiced strokes. The smooth, silky mass of coppery strands settled over her shoulders and in between her bony shoulder blades. She felt a tug and gripped a group of strands halfway down from her scalp, carefully teasing out the knot.
Squaring her face in the bathroom mirror, Alyshia grabbed a hair tie, gathered her mane into a loose ponytail, and slid the tie into place, wrapping it around a couple times to keep the junction solid. She turned her head from side to side, admiring the reflection staring back at her.
Alyshia's mother had been Latino, the color of lightly creamed coffee, short, plump, and very curvy. She'd inherited large amounts of her mother, except for the woman's physique. Wide hips, a shapely butt, well formed breasts...
Her Caucasian father's primary contribution had been to even out the skin color to equal parts coffee and cream, as well as make her face longer and less rounded than her mother's. She supposed she also had him to thank for her baseline metabolism - while she'd never been as skinny as he, she'd remained slender almost her whole life with little exercise involved.
Throwing her damp towel on the rack to dry, Alyshia stalked to her bedroom. She lived alone in her apartment and the shades were drawn from the night before, so she didn't feel at all embarrassed to be walking around nude as a jay bird.
Pulling open the top dresser drawer, she hitched a bra up under her modest B-cup breasts, pulling a stretchy undershirt down over her torso. A pair of athletic shorts - perfect casual wear - went up her legs, over her hips, to be tied loosely at her waist. As her hands groped for the cords, her fingers and thumbs brushed against the new chub born of 2 weeks lazing around at home. Another gift from her mother. The times in her life where Alyshia had gained any significant amount of weight, she'd shown a marked tendency towards a plump belly and love handles. Things were going no differently now.
Until just recently, Alyshia had been a computer technician in the local office of a multi-national corporate entity. For reasons no one really understood, the business had recently begun downsizing its operations - and this had included disbanding the office Alyshia had worked in. The layoff was handled professionally, with a severance package larger than her four years with the company actually warranted.
Alyshia had enough money to live off for the next few months, and a small unemployment check would start coming in soon if she couldn't find another job. For the moment, however, hours she'd never had to find ways to spend were at her fingertips, and with a minimum of social prospects those hours soon found themselves whiled away in front of the TV set, often accompanied by a bag of chips, popcorn, or takeout.
Dumping a couple bags of buttered microwave popcorn into a bowl, Alyshia grabbed the morning paper, a grease-slicked cordless phone, and the bowl and plopped herself down on the couch, prepared for another listless day of talk shows, crime drama re-runs, and her favorite - calling Help Wanted numbers until her fingertips hurt. She was beginning to lose hope - she wondered if she'd ever even had hope - that she'd find something she was qualified for.
This behavior continued for another five weeks, during which Alyshia gained an additional 14 pounds as the snacking habit became more entrenched, in tandem with the growth of her appetite for junk food. She knew she should be worried about the whole situation - from willingly becoming a couch potato, to the near-constant snacking, and all the way onwards to her ever growing body. The sheer degree of desensitization she'd come to regarding her current lifestyle was no more apparent than when she found herself in the kitchen one particular morning in a bra and panties - having decided actual clothing was “too cumbersome to bother with” - the counter pressing into her midriff, hand groping about in an empty cabinet she'd sworn had been full just the other day.
Taking just microseconds to reflect on the situation - 'Since when did my stomach get fat enough to mold to the counter?!' - she hurried back to her bedroom, grumbling and cursing the whole way. Her stomach growled its impatience to be fed - simultaneously, the fact that she'd not bought any new clothes since getting laid off dimly penetrated the thick fog in her brain. She pulled on an undershirt - now skin tight - as well as a tank top and athletic shorts. She didn't expect any of her denim bottoms to fit around her pudgy middle, so she wasn't going to bother trying.
Stuffing her wallet into a side pocket, she grabbed her keys and headed over to the parking garage next door. She was blatantly aware of the small gap between her top and shorts, as well as the fact her undershirt was not covering that space either.
On the way to the grocery store, Alyshia passed by a local donut shop. Her stomach let out a vicious growl, and she reluctantly pulled into the parking lot. Entering the building, Alyshia was immediately overwhelmed by the deluge of scents assaulting her hunger-influenced nostrils. Any willpower she might have summoned crumbled at the sight and smell of those little inner tubes of fried dough.
Emerging a few minutes later with a half dozen donuts, she happily consumed them whilst driving the rest of the way to the supermarket. Considering a half-dozen donuts as a “snack” was becoming a habit with Alyshia, although she didn’t seem to have yet really noticed it..
Upon arriving she rustled up a shopping cart and began perusing the shelves. She stocked up on snacks, TV Dinners, soda, and a variety of other easy and largely unhealthy things. She was aware of the negative health aspects of her choices, but unable to restrain herself - she'd built up such a strong habit by now it was like attempting to stop a speeding rocket in vacuum with a sheet of paper stretched in its path. The thought both registered and died in a mere handful of nanoseconds.
Alyshia was startled out of her little stupor when she heard a pleasant baritone voice just behind her. She spun to face the source and found herself looking up at a modestly dressed man perhaps a few years older than her. He was much taller than she was - solidly built, with relatively short blond hair and a smile that said he'd seen too many bad things in his life. “I'm sorry, I didn't hear you...”
“I asked if you needed help. You were staring at the top shelf as though you wanted something up there.”
“Oh,” Alyshia blushed, “no, thank you. Just letting my mind drift a little.” Alyshia actually was short enough to have issues with the top shelf. Standing at only 5' 1”, height had long since been a problem for her.
The man, rather than continuing on his way, looked her up and down. His expression made it likely he was not checking her out, but the action made her conscious of her weight, embarrassing her nonetheless.
“You have the look of the unemployed; recent layoff?”
Alyshia was taken aback by his statement and question, but not so much as to refrain from answering. “Almost two months ago; how did you know?”
“Takes one to know one. Been there myself, actually. If I may, what did you do?”
“On-site computer technician, for a local branch of a large firm.”
“Oh yes, I saw that in the news. Terribly sorry. So... I take it you're still looking for a new job?”
“I've almost given up at this point. Why, you know of one?”
“I might. You could say I'm in the business of finding jobs for people. Like a Temp agency, only more permanent.”
The man pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to her. “Drop by my office some time, if you'd like.”
Alyshia accepted the card and thanked him, then continued on her way. She shopped a bit longer, then went up front to pay. She ended up with a dozen bags of stuff, all things she knew would add to her growing waistline at the rate she'd been going, but she really didn’t care to think about that..
She drove back to her apartment uneventfully, put the groceries away, and resumed her daily routine as if the morning's detour had never even occurred. Hours later, full of chips and popcorn, she climbed into bed no closer to having a job than she'd been the day before.
