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Krispy Kreme
| "Well, I can't officially say this quite yet, but I think that we can pretty much give you that job - though I'm not sure about the hours yet." I managed to widen the fake smile I'd been wearing the whole interview, leaning forward to shake the man's hand. I really didn't want this job - with italics and double bold on the really - but there wasn't too much I could do. I was twenty two, college dropout and former web-designer for a dot com company that had finally gone belly up two weeks ago. There wasn't really too much I could do at the moment but take a shit job like this at Krispy Kreme until I found something better. "Thanks! I've been looking forward to working here. I really appreciate the opportunity, and I promise I won't let you down." After shaking my hand, he stood up and walked to the door - I hoisted myself out of the seat and followed right after him. Getting this job was a mixed blessing - I needed the money, but I also had a feeling that being around doughnuts all day long probably wasn't going to be the best thing for me. My weight had been fluctuating a lot lately, and it was around 325 at the moment... looking quite big on my small 5'9" frame. I had always been big, getting up to 360 about a year ago, but I managed to slim down a little by watching what I ate. I just hoped I'd be able to keep it up surrounded by food all the time. "I doubt you will. We'll call you later on this week about shifts and the like, you'll probably start next Monday." And that's how this whole thing began. The next Monday I showed up at 7:00 PM on the dot for the night shift, getting ready for my first six straight hours making doughnuts and taking orders from customers at the drive through window. Needless to say, the night passed without incident - any incident at all, in fact. It was quite possibly the most boring six hours I've ever had to pass. The next night wasn't any better, or the next. Everyone who worked there had ways of relieving the boredom, because only a few customers would ever come after seven. I started to bring a book or a magazine to read, and just relax in front of the window - occasionally grabbing a box of doughnuts from the machine and snacking on them throughout the night. Now, while the customer load failed to increase, the number of doughnuts going out to customers each night slowly started to creep up. It wasn't as if the manager cared at all - the donuts probably cost about two cents to make, and we had to turn on the whole machine to make a bunch anyway - there were always leftovers. But, what can I say - they were damned good. I never was really very good at saying no to food; my diets usually consisted of me staying out of places where they had food like this. With it right in front of me... I couldn't resist. I really didn't care too much either; I was pissed that I had to work this stupid job anyway, so why not enjoy the fringe benefits? Three months passed like this, and I still hadn't found a job. No one needed a web-designer at the moment, which sucked for me because I hadn't the training for anyone else. I put in a request for more hours and got it - the doughnut thing was getting to be a full time job. I still worked the shift starting at seven, but I stayed until 2 AM now, after everyone else left, to close the store. I got paid a decent amount more for doing this, and I felt less guilty about eating the doughnuts after everyone left... so that's what really kickstarted my habit. After I got that job, I was downing four or five boxes of donuts a night. I know that sounds like a lot, but I would usually just eat a light dinner and spread them out over four hours, constantly munching on one or two. I'd always leave full, but I never felt like that much of a pig. A month after I got that job, I started to realize how big I had gotten. I had to order the next size up in both shirts and pants for my uniform, and none of my clothes at home fit. I had to take out my 'fat' clothes that I had stored from my bigger days - and even those were a little tight. Finally, after pulling on my 48's and not being able to even button them, I had to know how much I weighed. I took the dreaded scale out of the closet and set it on the floor, wincing a little and stepping onto the little platform. I looked down, excepting to see the little needle fly around - and realized that I couldn't see it, my stomach was in the way! Pushing it back and leaning over precipitously, I saw that it had passed the 0 mark and gone over into the red numbers - I was back at 360. Two years ago, this would have freaked me out and caused me to desperately try to lose weight, but... something was different this time. Nothing was really working out, and what would I gain by losing weight? Nothing! I'd just make my life more miserable. I plopped myself down on my couch and grabbed a bag of M & M's and started to watch an action movie. **** diets, at least until I get my bearings back. Of course, still no jobs popped up. I still just sat at that window every day, munching on donuts and talking to customers. I'm sure I must have looked huge to them, my big, round belly resting on thighs that absolutely stretched my slacks to the max. And when I got up to get their order or pick something up, they got to see all three hundred and sixty pounds of me shift and jiggle, bouncing up and down as I barely managed to waddle around. I didn't care at all though. Truth be told, I was starting to like it - it felt good to just say **** it and do what I wanted to. I'm sure I was more congenial with the customers after I came to that realization, and I actually started to recognize people who came frequently. There was the younger woman who was trying to make it as a doctor, but lacked the money to go to med school, so she was working as an RN - and the chauvinistic male doctors at her hospital made her go get donuts daily. Or Mike, the messenger boy, who desperately wanted to quit his job and go back to school, but he needed more money. I met a lot of interns and temps who had to come by daily to get doughnuts. There was one guy though - this one guy who stuck out from the crowd. He would come to get donuts fairly often, maybe twice a week, but always with his friend and they never ordered much - just one or two things. His friend was good looking, but this guy - he was stunning. He was about my age with trimmed black hair and dark brown eyes, a beautiful olive complexion and a way about him that just seemed cool. I loved guys like that. I mean, I was aware that in my current physical state I was much too far out of his league to even think about it... but sometimes, he caught my eye and I could swear that he was checking me out. I never learned his name, but definitely thought about him a lot. In fact, one night when I was closing up, I was a little hungry and I started to think about him for some reason. I know it seems silly as I didn't even know his name, but I was so attracted to him that I didn't care. Without even thinking, I turned on the machine that makes the donuts and sat at the end of it, plopping my big rear down on the floor and pulling the donuts off one by one off the conveyor belt and stuffing them into my face while thinking of him. I don't know why I did it, but I do know that I was incredibly aroused the whole time. Twenty minutes after I had started, I was too full to move - I had probably eaten an extra two dozen donuts in addition to what I usually have. I barely managed to close up and squeeze into my car to drive home. My bloated belly pressed against the steering wheel the whole way home. I felt huge. I did it again the next night. I didn't know why, but it felt so good to eat like that, especially while thinking of him. Imaging him wearing nothing but a mischievous grin on his face while I eat and eat, growing myself even bigger. I just sat there, letting my bloated, fat belly sag between huge thighs, feeling it grow and grow as I ate and ate and ate, ate way beyond what I needed, ate beyond what I even wanted. The food just tasted so good, and I loved being that full - and for some reason, I loved the thought of growing bigger. I repeated that every night that week. I knew that I needed to stop, because I really was wasting a lot of donuts and I was getting absolutely huge... but I didn't want to stop at all. I was well on my way to 400 pounds by doing this. Four hundred pounds of soft jelly belly, constantly jiggling like mad and always sagging all over the place. When I sat down at the window, most of my lap was gone now. More time passed, and while I thought I would get over it and stop, I didn't. I couldn't. I loved it too much. My friends at the doughnut place used to tease me playfully about my weight, but I had gained so much lately that they didn't anymore; they didn't want to offend me. I started to have trouble fitting into seats at the movies and squeezing into desks. Despite all of this however, I found that I just kept increasing my pace. And then, one late night when I was deep in my usual gorging routine, I heard the front door open and hesitant steps walking in. I forced myself out of my feast and slowly got to my feet, swinging my heavy legs around and pulling my body up. Just as I was managing this not inconsiderable feat, I saw that the person who had walked in was staring at me. It was dark, but I assumed it was the manager, so I tried to make up some kind of story to explain. "Oh shit! Jake, hey! I know what this looks like, but it's not right at all - I mean, I was just cleaning up when..." I kind of faded off there because I knew he wasn't going to believe me. My pants were unbuttoned (I couldn't have fastened them if I tried) and my face was covered with jelly, my shirt was barely still attached, the knitted fabric was skin tight to my big, round belly. He took a step closer and I prepared to face his wrath... "No need to explain yourself..." It was the boy! The kid of my dreams! My heart soared quickly, then plummeted into despair. The kid of my dreams caught me stuffing dozens of donuts into my face. He's never going to want me now! I started to say something, but he walked closer. I could see what his body was like now - he was thin and well-built: muscular, but no six-pack. He looked like someone who goes to the gym and watches what he eats, but wasn't really a nut about it. Really a stark contrast to me. How could someone who takes care of themselves that much like a guy like me - someone who has eaten themselves to four hundred pounds in a doughnut place, someone who hasn't done a push-up since tenth grade gym class? I didn't say any of this though; I just bit my sugar-coated lower lip as he came closer. He placed a hand on my warm belly, through the skin-tight knit of my shirt. It sunk in considerably, and I blushed more. "I know... I'm really big." He cocked his head a little and smiled the same mischievous smile that he had had in my dream. He didn't say a word, he just picked up a donut and pressed it to my lips, feeding me the sugar-coated calorie-dense treat. "Well... not that big." I ate more than I ever thought possible that night. His name was Eric, and he was perfect. We never really talked about it, we just went with the flow. Every night, he'd show up at the same time and help me eat, help my grow my big belly. For two weeks that's all we did, and I swear that I must have gained ten pounds in that time. Finally, on a Friday, we started to talk. After I was too full to move, he pressed his strong and able hands into my belly, rubbing gently but firmly, helping all those calories to digest into even more pounds on my body. I was half-asleep, in that kind of drunken, food-induced stupor, and he helped me into his car. The next morning I woke up in unfamiliar surroundings and looked over to see Eric sleeping right next to me, facing right toward me, as if he had been watching me while I slept. I went to get up, but realized that I wouldn't be limber enough to get to my feet without waking him up, so I just kind of laid there for a while, still digesting my meal. I looked down and realized that while we were a good distance apart, my ever-expanding belly had sagged onto the mattress and was pressing against him lightly. I tried to suck it in a little to no avail. I had to admit, even to myself I looked huge. I looked back up to see that Eric was awake. He had that same adorable smile on his face. God, was he sexy. "Hey there. Morning." I smiled a little, not sure what to say. He stood up and stretched, pulling off his shift and rummaging through his drawer for another. He looked really good without a shirt on, his body was just how I had pictured it. "Morning... how'd I get here last night?" "Oh, I just drove you to my place instead. I figured that it's about time that we really got to know each other. After all," he grinned, leaning in a little, " you are quite possibly the sexiest thing I've ever seen." Sexy? I... just couldn't process this right now. I didn't feel sexy. I felt fat - and I know that it felt good to me, but to someone else? This was madness. "Whatever. A guy like you could get someone much better looking than me." He hopped back into bed, making the mattress bounce a bit and causing ripples to fly through my belly. "No way. I've seen you eat - these last few days have been the best of my life, why else would I keep showing up." He paused for a moment, as if debating something before he finally asked, "Would you mind... could I see you shirtless?" I was about to protest, but I figured - why the **** not? The worst that could happen was that this guy was playing some horrible trick on me, and even then I got to see him shirtless, so it's not all bad. I was very careful not to get my hopes up yet, so I just shrugged and slowly sat up, untucking my shirt and pulling it over my head, tossing it to the side. As always, my belly dominated. It was very round and very heavy, sagging over my thighs and looking just massive. Two huge love handles extended back to my lower back, making big, heavy creases in the blubber. My chest was a little embarrassing it was so big - two big rolls that some might call tits sagged down onto my belly, also extending back under my heavy arms. To top it off, my lower belly and love handles had new stretch marks all over them from my gains, so not only did I look huge - he knew how fast I had gained it. "Can I put it back on now?" He was about to say something, but I noticed then that he really was aroused... or at least he had a roll of quarters in his pocket. Without thinking, I leaned back onto the bed, my flabby body wobbling and adjusting to its new position. I allowed my hopes to rise. "Never mind... come a little closer, eh?" He did, and I wrapped an arm around him. He seemed fascinated with my stomach, and played with it constantly, playing with my bellybutton and jiggling it with two hands. I can't say that I minded the attention, and when he brought in breakfast to me - two boxes of sugary jelly doughnuts - I knew that this weight was not gonna go down any time soon. I won't say how much I weigh now - some things should be left to the imagination - but I still work for Krispy Kreme and am no longer looking for a new job. And, of course, late at night, when no one's around, Eric stops by and we turn on the conveyor belt - and have ourselves the kind of fun that has led to this enormous jelly donut that bounces in front of me whenever I waddle now. It's great. Source: http://www.bigguts.com/forum/showthread.php?t=1495 | |
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