Uncle Jack
Well-Known Member
~BBW, ~~WG - Author's Note: If this seems like a bit of a slow start, don't worry. It will pick up. I hate stories on these boards that hold back the goods as much as you do.
The day I started at the call centre started off as the worst day of my life. It ended by being the best.
I suppose it says something about the cushiness of my North American life that the worst day of my life involved no greater tragedy than starting gainful employment. I had been unemployed for several months, turned down by every job I interviewed for, had been reading about the wonderful life pursuits of people I knew in my universitys alumni magazine and on the home page of Facebook, which I masochistically refreshed every couple minutes as my body aged and life passed me by. My first day at the call centre seemed so incredibly bleak because it was the ultimate culmination of my depressed worldview at the time. As everyone else I had gone to college with were making their marks upon the world, I was reduced to becoming an anonymous voice over the phone, that people only ever talked to when they had problems of the most annoying kind. Needless to say, I had never fought in any wars, never lost any relatives or loved ones, never been subject to true degradation of body and spirit in the way that hookers and junkies and rape victims and the literally paralyzed are. I was young enough to be ungrateful, old enough to realize the world rarely lives up to expectations. In fact, the world is very often pointlessly boring.
The job involved inbound customer service. If youre lucky enough to be ignorant of this terminology, it means that people call me as opposed to my calling them, which would be outbound. I worked for a large and omnipresent telecommunications company. When people had some sort of problem with their phone service, or their internet service, or their cable service, or they just wanted to kvetch about their bills, they would call up and speak into my ear, or an ear much like mine attached to some other body. Most everyone has been on at least one side of one of these phone calls before, and often yelling is involved.
You may be surprised to learn that this job involves six weeks of training.
As I slouched into the training room at 8 a.m. and saw that most of the seats were already taken, a voice to my right chimed up and politely asked if I would sign the attendance sheet. I looked over to see who the voice was attached to. In the split second between hearing the voice and seeing the woman it belonged to.
She was a beautiful fat China doll. She had beautiful porcelain skin that was white the way that opulent wealthy women in 17th century portraits are. She had raven black hair and a slight smattering of freckles, the kind of freckles pale people have that really only show when they get too much sun. She had straight white teeth that pinged out at you, and really made you think of the way that straight and white rhyme in such a perfectly harmonious way.
She had a sexy double chin. Her whole face was generally chubby, with fat cheeks and even a fat neck. She was sitting down, wearing a white top and blue jeans. Her belly went a little past her breasts, not in the sloppy way of the beer belly, but just a little bit. It was the sort of belly that showed she really enjoyed her food, as I can imagine her breasts and belly both growing together, but her belly pushes ever so slightly ahead because it is always full of food.
In general, she gave off a sense of having gained the weight, as opposed to always being fat. Maybe Im being stupid, but Ive always felt I could judge the difference between gainers and lifers. Whereas lifers often look very round and, if not solid, at least wholly put together, gainers have always seemed to me to show where they gained the weight. Im sure this theory is wrong 50 percent of the time, but with this girl that was in front of me right then, I could swear that I could envision what she may have looked like in the past, perhaps in high school, perhaps just a year ago, before she was fat, maybe when she was thin, or maybe even chubby, but before she had become undeniably fat.
Because she was undoubtedly fat. Her belly spilled into her lap and pushed against her shirt. Her belly button was on full display, creating a hollow indent in her t-shirt. Her thighs were wonderfully plump, and she spread out in her desk chair in a way that made me suspect her ass would look amazing if I could just get a peek.
Just sign there on the sheet please, she said, smiling. She took a chocolate covered pretzel from the bag and popped it in her mouth.
Um, kay, I spluttered and did so, wishing my peripheral vision was like a horses, with my eyes on the sides of my head so I could watch her put another chocolate treat between her plump lips as I put my John Hancock on the paper that was beside her. As it was, I settled for the crinkle of the bag and the barely perceptible mmm that vibrated in her throat.
Totally shaken, feeling like I lived in a different universe from twenty seconds ago, I awkwardly walked to the second last row of seats, forcing myself not to swivel my head around to catch a glimpse of this fat beauty again. I took a seat between a middle-aged hick-woman with missing teeth and a bald dude who was probably thinking about child support as he downed his energy drink. Once I was seated, I was facing the front of the room where my new obsession was eating her snack next to a projector screen. Only one person came in after me, a confused Indian guy who smelled like he hadnt showered in awhile. He performed the same peccadillo I had, totally not seeing the attendance sheet, but he was so out of it that my fat beauty, with her mouth full, had to ask him to sign four times, finally reaching out a fat arm and tapping the sheet with her index finger three times. Each time she tapped the sheet, her upper arm jiggled. Definitely a gainer, not a lifer; that arm had no muscle mass to it at all, it was just jiggly sexy fat.
The dark-haired beauty took a look at her phone, presumably for the time, because she seemed surprised and started to shovel the remaining pretzels in her mouth. A fat girl who would rather devour her entire snack right away than save it for later. So perfect.
It was 8:07 a.m. With the last pretzels in her mouth, she stood up. Her shirt rode up for a split second and I could see that her form-fitting jeans were unbuttoned. She quickly pulled her shirt back down and walked towards the center, gearing up for oratorical mode. For the brief moment that I saw her from the side, I saw that her butt wasnt simply amazing. It was awe-inspiring. A perfect bubble, a big shelf, a flabby couple of cheeks that bobbed up and down with jiggly delight. The kind of butt that no one could fail to notice. The kind of enormous ass that basically defined a persons entire physical image for mass memory. Dark hair, big eyes, pale skin, average height? No, dont think I know her. Oh, the girl with the giant butt! Yes, of course! Have you ever seen a butt that big? Grown adults gossiping about butts like boys in kindergarten.
Whether she had previously been chubby or thin, or even if I was totally wrong and she had been a porker her whole life, that butt had defined her. She could have been rail thin from the waist up as a teenager; she would still have had a huge fleshy butt. What Im getting at is it wasnt just wide like a lot of fat butts (although it was plenty wide, as the spread of her hips showed when she turned to face the class again). Her butt was bubblicious. It was blown up, sticking way out from her body. I imagined her knocking things over obliviously with her huge rear end, or maybe hitting someone in the head as she walked by, sheepishly apologizing, and I tried to stem my thoughts, as I was getting the kind of rock hard erection that you would remember when you were old and gray.
Um nom nom, she began to speak, and then stopped. She chewed for a few more seconds and swallowed her mouthful. She licked her lips with her rosy pink tongue. It should be noted that her butt was so gargantuan that it could be seen from the front.
Hi everyone, she began, My name is Jocelyn, and Ill be your trainer for the next six weeks.
And thats the turning point, the zero on the axis, where Worst Day started to transform into Best Day.
The Trainer
by Uncle Jack
by Uncle Jack
The day I started at the call centre started off as the worst day of my life. It ended by being the best.
I suppose it says something about the cushiness of my North American life that the worst day of my life involved no greater tragedy than starting gainful employment. I had been unemployed for several months, turned down by every job I interviewed for, had been reading about the wonderful life pursuits of people I knew in my universitys alumni magazine and on the home page of Facebook, which I masochistically refreshed every couple minutes as my body aged and life passed me by. My first day at the call centre seemed so incredibly bleak because it was the ultimate culmination of my depressed worldview at the time. As everyone else I had gone to college with were making their marks upon the world, I was reduced to becoming an anonymous voice over the phone, that people only ever talked to when they had problems of the most annoying kind. Needless to say, I had never fought in any wars, never lost any relatives or loved ones, never been subject to true degradation of body and spirit in the way that hookers and junkies and rape victims and the literally paralyzed are. I was young enough to be ungrateful, old enough to realize the world rarely lives up to expectations. In fact, the world is very often pointlessly boring.
The job involved inbound customer service. If youre lucky enough to be ignorant of this terminology, it means that people call me as opposed to my calling them, which would be outbound. I worked for a large and omnipresent telecommunications company. When people had some sort of problem with their phone service, or their internet service, or their cable service, or they just wanted to kvetch about their bills, they would call up and speak into my ear, or an ear much like mine attached to some other body. Most everyone has been on at least one side of one of these phone calls before, and often yelling is involved.
You may be surprised to learn that this job involves six weeks of training.
As I slouched into the training room at 8 a.m. and saw that most of the seats were already taken, a voice to my right chimed up and politely asked if I would sign the attendance sheet. I looked over to see who the voice was attached to. In the split second between hearing the voice and seeing the woman it belonged to.
She was a beautiful fat China doll. She had beautiful porcelain skin that was white the way that opulent wealthy women in 17th century portraits are. She had raven black hair and a slight smattering of freckles, the kind of freckles pale people have that really only show when they get too much sun. She had straight white teeth that pinged out at you, and really made you think of the way that straight and white rhyme in such a perfectly harmonious way.
She had a sexy double chin. Her whole face was generally chubby, with fat cheeks and even a fat neck. She was sitting down, wearing a white top and blue jeans. Her belly went a little past her breasts, not in the sloppy way of the beer belly, but just a little bit. It was the sort of belly that showed she really enjoyed her food, as I can imagine her breasts and belly both growing together, but her belly pushes ever so slightly ahead because it is always full of food.
In general, she gave off a sense of having gained the weight, as opposed to always being fat. Maybe Im being stupid, but Ive always felt I could judge the difference between gainers and lifers. Whereas lifers often look very round and, if not solid, at least wholly put together, gainers have always seemed to me to show where they gained the weight. Im sure this theory is wrong 50 percent of the time, but with this girl that was in front of me right then, I could swear that I could envision what she may have looked like in the past, perhaps in high school, perhaps just a year ago, before she was fat, maybe when she was thin, or maybe even chubby, but before she had become undeniably fat.
Because she was undoubtedly fat. Her belly spilled into her lap and pushed against her shirt. Her belly button was on full display, creating a hollow indent in her t-shirt. Her thighs were wonderfully plump, and she spread out in her desk chair in a way that made me suspect her ass would look amazing if I could just get a peek.
Just sign there on the sheet please, she said, smiling. She took a chocolate covered pretzel from the bag and popped it in her mouth.
Um, kay, I spluttered and did so, wishing my peripheral vision was like a horses, with my eyes on the sides of my head so I could watch her put another chocolate treat between her plump lips as I put my John Hancock on the paper that was beside her. As it was, I settled for the crinkle of the bag and the barely perceptible mmm that vibrated in her throat.
Totally shaken, feeling like I lived in a different universe from twenty seconds ago, I awkwardly walked to the second last row of seats, forcing myself not to swivel my head around to catch a glimpse of this fat beauty again. I took a seat between a middle-aged hick-woman with missing teeth and a bald dude who was probably thinking about child support as he downed his energy drink. Once I was seated, I was facing the front of the room where my new obsession was eating her snack next to a projector screen. Only one person came in after me, a confused Indian guy who smelled like he hadnt showered in awhile. He performed the same peccadillo I had, totally not seeing the attendance sheet, but he was so out of it that my fat beauty, with her mouth full, had to ask him to sign four times, finally reaching out a fat arm and tapping the sheet with her index finger three times. Each time she tapped the sheet, her upper arm jiggled. Definitely a gainer, not a lifer; that arm had no muscle mass to it at all, it was just jiggly sexy fat.
The dark-haired beauty took a look at her phone, presumably for the time, because she seemed surprised and started to shovel the remaining pretzels in her mouth. A fat girl who would rather devour her entire snack right away than save it for later. So perfect.
It was 8:07 a.m. With the last pretzels in her mouth, she stood up. Her shirt rode up for a split second and I could see that her form-fitting jeans were unbuttoned. She quickly pulled her shirt back down and walked towards the center, gearing up for oratorical mode. For the brief moment that I saw her from the side, I saw that her butt wasnt simply amazing. It was awe-inspiring. A perfect bubble, a big shelf, a flabby couple of cheeks that bobbed up and down with jiggly delight. The kind of butt that no one could fail to notice. The kind of enormous ass that basically defined a persons entire physical image for mass memory. Dark hair, big eyes, pale skin, average height? No, dont think I know her. Oh, the girl with the giant butt! Yes, of course! Have you ever seen a butt that big? Grown adults gossiping about butts like boys in kindergarten.
Whether she had previously been chubby or thin, or even if I was totally wrong and she had been a porker her whole life, that butt had defined her. She could have been rail thin from the waist up as a teenager; she would still have had a huge fleshy butt. What Im getting at is it wasnt just wide like a lot of fat butts (although it was plenty wide, as the spread of her hips showed when she turned to face the class again). Her butt was bubblicious. It was blown up, sticking way out from her body. I imagined her knocking things over obliviously with her huge rear end, or maybe hitting someone in the head as she walked by, sheepishly apologizing, and I tried to stem my thoughts, as I was getting the kind of rock hard erection that you would remember when you were old and gray.
Um nom nom, she began to speak, and then stopped. She chewed for a few more seconds and swallowed her mouthful. She licked her lips with her rosy pink tongue. It should be noted that her butt was so gargantuan that it could be seen from the front.
Hi everyone, she began, My name is Jocelyn, and Ill be your trainer for the next six weeks.
And thats the turning point, the zero on the axis, where Worst Day started to transform into Best Day.
