"What the f*ck is this?" your boss says and drops the overfilled box of pastries on the table in front of you.
"It's just some day old pastries that were going to be thrown out," you say defensively.
He yanks up your uniform shirt and grabs a handful of your soft, bulging belly and squeezes hard.
"Look at all this f*cking lard, you fat pig. This is all my profit right here," he shakes your belly, " you been shoving straight into your mouth, now you're wearing it," he lets your belly fall and grabs a big handful of your ballooning ass, "Jesus, no wonder I'm only breaking even. You're getting huge."
He's right, you've been eating non-stop since you started here seven months ago and have gained close to 90 lbs. You just can't help yourself, all those yummy treats: sugared berries, fresh bread with butter, cakes, cookies, icing, the chocolate filling.
You've become an absolute pig. Your small pot belly has burgeoned into a wide, flabby gut that folds over your belt line and wobbles like thick jelly when you walk. You've grown enormous love handles and heavy dimpled thighs. You snack constantly while working and then take home leftovers and feed yourself even fatter as you watch tv.
"Unbutton your pants," your boss says, "and set that f*cking jelly belly on the table."
Oh god, he's making you so hard.
"Put in on the table, fatso. If you want to stuff your face all day like a greedy blimp, then that's just how you're going to be treated."
You unbutton your pants, lift the soft, wobbly mound onto the table. It swells before you and spreads out embarassingly. Your boss removes your shirt and pulls your pants to your ankles. You feel obese, exposed.
"My, my, my, look at all this blubber, look at all the f*cking lard you've put on." He pats your wide rump and prods your thick, fat hips, with an outstretched finger. He slaps your ass hard. You wince at the sting and savor the rippling fat. He pushes the box of pastries towards you.
"Start eating, wideload. You don't clock out until that box is empty."
"But, but, but... it usually takes all weekend to finish that many."
"Either start packing that gut, fat back, or I tell the cops you've been stealing from me and you'll have to pay me back full value for everything you've eaten, plus interest."
You're so turned on at the thought of being fed like this you grab a pastry and shove it in your mouth. Your boss laughs.
"Wow, half in one bite, I see now why you've gotten so tubby."
You swallow and then greedily shove the other half in. You moan and gulp, gulp and moan. Absentmindedly, you slide your hand under your belly and begin searching for your dick under your rolls. You moan louder and grab another pastry. You fold it in half and cram it in as far as it will go. You're close to coming, your cheeks bulge, you breathe heavily through your nostrils. You desperately quicken your stroke. Your boss grabs your hand and pulls it from between your thighs.
"Eat with both hands, you obese f*ckpig, I'll take care of this."
He slides his fingers around your cock and expertly picks up where you left off. You arch your back and lean into the table. He works your dick perfectly and the rhythmic motion of his forearm causes your big jelly tummy to shake and shimmy. More, more, more pastries, your mouth is so full it hurts. He slides his free hand around your hips and latches onto your thick love handle. He squeezes and tugs and tugs and rolls the huge fistful of fat back and forth,
"Look at all this meat, you tubby pig, god, I swear I can feel you getting FATTER right now."
Your food-packed gut strains and stretches, he hits just the right rhythm; you come so close and then he backs you off.
"Not until the box is empty, you selfish cow."
You moan, aching to come and begin stuffing with both hands, pastry after pastry. You can feel your belly bloat, your ribcage widens to accommodate your abject gluttony. Your soft, wide hog belly pushes further out onto the table. You arch your back; your heavy belly swells, swells, swells; you feel so bloated, so piggishly, hoggishly fat, so greedy, so out of control, he grabs your cock again, oh, you come and come and come.
You sit on a chair grinning stupidly, sated: sugar, carbs, sex. Your pants are still around your ankles and your belly rests heavily in your lap. Your boss smiles and kisses you gently on the lips.
"I guess I can't be THAT mad at you, that was really fun. You're so fat and jiggly. If you're willing to make this a regular thing, I'm willing to let you continue to work here and be a greedy little porker."
You're still smiling and you nod your head, you reach for another pastry, "I'd love that."
The next morning you find a note on your locker.
"Hi Piggy, I've made a few alterations to your uniform, embrassing for sure, but you'll just have to get used to them. Enjoy your day."
You open your locker and see that he has changed your work shirt so that it's low in the front and shortened at the bottom. He replaced your old work pants with a stretchy, low-rise pair. You struggle into your new uniform and jiggle-waddle your way to the front. Every new pound is on display. Your thighs rub loudly. The other guy, Chris, is already getting set up and you see he's still dressed in the old conservative version. He sees you and gasps,
"Oh my god, w...w...what happened to your uniform?"
"It's...it's...I think it's something Charles wants to try out. I got a note from him this morning telling me to wear it and to let him know how it goes."
Chris giggles and pokes your belly. "Oh hun, you've gained so much weight. I don't think it's a good look for our bakery. Do we really want to remind our customers how fattening this stuff is?"
His look turns devilish, "Look at this belly." He pokes at your fat. He looks directly at you and wets his index finger. He slides it deep into your belly button and begins teasing you and wobbling your hog belly with his inserted finger.
"I bet you want a donut, don't you fatty?" He wobbles your fat some more. You can feel your soft tummy jiggle around his firm finger. "C'mon, fat boy, oink for me and I'll give you a donut. Don't act like you don't want one, I see all the goodies you sneak while you work."
You can't help yourself, you want that donut so bad. Your mouth waters. He squeals with laughter and grabs a gooey apple fritter from the case.
"Oh my, such a good fat piggy, now make a pig nose with you finger and oink again. Oink for your donut, fatty."
You blush, blood rushes to your ears, your face gets hot. You push your nose into a pig shape and oink and snort. He shoves the fritter in your mouth and claps excitedly.
You turn away and start prepping for the morning rush. His teasing has made you so horny,it's either work or sneak off to the breakroom with a bag of donut holes to pleasure yourself.
Your tummy wobbles,unrestrained now by your old pants. As you go about your tasks, your hips roll side to side , your love handles bounce and jiggle. The day passes quietly (not what you expected) with only a few customers seeming to notice your exposed, bulging fat. A few minutes before closing, your boss arrives. He looks beautiful. His hair is gelled and he's wearing leather shorts and a form fitting white dress shirt.
"Well it looks like we had a good day. Chris, honey, you can go, we'll finish the rest." Chris is glad to and is out the door in a few minutes. Your boss turns to you and smiles hungrily.
"God, you look so f*cking fat in that outfit. Loosen your pants, tubby. I've been thinking about my favorite little thief all day."
You unbutton your tight pants and peel them down to your ankles. Your boss slides open the display case and bends you over.
"Get your face in that carrot cake, hog. You're going to eat while I *** you. Oh sweetie, you're going to get so ***ing FAT working for me."
You begin panting in anticipation. You lean over and place your hands on the bottom shelf for balance. Your nose is an inch from the carrot cake and you can smell it's sweetness. Your *** starts to drip. Your boss pulls down his shorts, rolls your underwear down and slides his dick inside you. Oh god, your body warms, tingles all over. His firm hips push you forward and your face presses into the cake. You grunt and take an enormous bite. Mmmm, your taste buds tingle, your cheeks fill. Your boss buries his dick deep in side you and grabs two fistfuls of your hanging belly and ***s you slowly: in, out, in, out, in...in, out, in, out, in, out...
"That's it, eat like a good fat boy you big, greedy cow, eat, eat, eat for me." He slaps the side of your heavy gut. " You're going to be fattened like a sumo wrestler as long as your work here."
You moan loudly through packed cheeks.
"You love it, don't you, hog, love being my fat, GROWING plaything. Say it, piggy, tell me how much you love it."
"Yes!" you say between mouthfuls, "yes, oh god, please, fatten me, fatten me. I'm a greedy fat piggy, I can't stop eating, I won't stop, I love it."
His pace quickens, you gasp. More carrot cake. Your heavy belly lurches and wobbles and rhythmically slaps the display case. Your wide, fattened buttocks separate and slap loudly back together with each thrust and retreat. He slides his hand under your belly and begins rubbing your dick ohhh, your muscles tighten, you gulp feverishly. Each thrust forces more cake down your throat, your jaw stretches wide, your cheeks and throat pack with food.
"Are you going to be a good fat boy and eat everything I say, are you going to grow a huge, fat, hog belly for me to play with, huh, piggy?"
You're so close to coming you're almost in a panic, sputtering and grunting, "Yes, oh god, yes, I promise, I promise, I'll eat everything, everything."
You dig your hand into the remaining cake and desperately shove a huge wedge into your mouth, orgasms explode through your body. You sink to the floor, small orgasms still shuddering, echoing through. Your boss kisses your cake-smeared face and pats your bloated belly.
"Keep this up, tubby, and you might be up for employee of the month."
You belch and rub your belly and smile.
Months pass and you grow and grow and grow. You're turning into a huge pig. The other guys complain it's getting hard to work with you. You knock things over with your ass, bump things with your belly. You lose your breath easily and have a wide, laborious waddle.
At the end of shift, your boss calls you to his office. He beams proudly as you jiggle into view.
"Oh my, we've really fattened you up, haven't we?"
You blush and cross an arm in front of your belly. You close the door and your boss pulls down his pants and begins stroking his dick.
"Get on your knees you big fat pig, and make me come."
You struggle to your knees excitedly, using his desk for support and start greedily sucking his cock. You're so far gone now, putting anything in your mouth makes you hard. You moan loudly and tease him as you suck, his dick disappears into your mouth, reappears, disappears, reappears,
"Oh ***, I'm such a fat pig now," you pant as you suck sloppily, "so ***ing big and fat, I can't stop eating, all I do is sit on my *** and stuff myself fatter like a ***ing HOG."
You eagerly lick the sides, he leans back, groaning desperately, and shoots his load.
You struggle to your feet and stand red-faced and sweating, he laughs at the site and then takes a picture of you with his phone.
"Turn sideways," he says and takes another pic. "Wow, sweetie, you can't even get your whole ass into those pants. I thought they were going to last you all year." He laughs loudly.
He opens a file on his computer with several pics. You glance at them and stare excitedly. You realize they are before-and-after photos of several past employees. You marvel at their transformations from fit, young guys to bloated, blubbery hogs. He has a photo of you taken your first day. He uploads your new photo: the contrast between then and now is shocking. The plump, bright-faced you on the left and the new you on the right. You realize just how fat he's made you. In the photo on the left, your uniform is form-fitting, flattering, and professional. In the photo on the right, your uniform is skin-tight showing every extra inch, heavy garlands of fat droop from your waist, your deep thigh-dimples can be seen through your pants, you have fat cheeks now and an obvious double chin.
"I have to let you go," your boss says, "you're just way too fat to work here now." He giggles devilishly and pats your bulging belly, "I mean look at you, look at all this fat, you're as big as a barn."
He laughs and slides her hand under your belly "Did you think you could steal from me, you beached whale, and there'd be no consequences. You got exactly what a greedy fatty deserves." You moan. "You'll never work in food service again, you ***ing fat cow. And now you're much too lazy to have any hopes of getting in shape, ha! Nobody will hire a big tubby fatty like you. You'll have to buy your food like every other fat whale out there."
The humiliation is too much; you press his hand into your crotch and come.
He allows you to compose yourself and then pats your wide rear end, "Off you go, piggy. Off to your new life as a lazy, overfed , growing, fat boy. Because, honestly honey, we both know you won't stop stuffing that gut, don't we?"
You blush, nod and leave to collect your things.
You stop to hug Chris as you leave, and for the first time, you realize how much weight he's gained recently. You smile and imagine what he'll look like in a year. You waddle out the door, your hips brushing lightly against the jamb, and see that the McDonald's across the street is hiring.
Adapted from fff post by teasedfatty
