Help Wanted [Fiction, Female]

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Help Wanted [Fiction, Female]

Post by Faber » 06 May 2018, 08:25

“Is it too twee?” Christine asked, examining the piece of paper and frowning.

I don’t know,” Heather's face said from her phone’s screen. “How many people do you know who reference the Pony Express in casual conversation?

Christine blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know, it just feels less creepy if I’m making a joke out of things. I don’t want to scare anyone off.”

For the record, it’s still creepy.

“Yeah, yeah.” She was quiet for a few moments, moving the black Sharpie back and forth across the paper. “Well, it’s not like I pretend to understand your boyfriend’s foot thing.”

Not even the same thing. Greg liking my feet doesn’t require me to make any drastic sort of changes to, y’know, my everyday existence.

“Well, it meant you finally started regularly washing them.”

The phone screen was suddenly dominated by an extended middle finger.

Christine sighed. “Anyway, it probably isn’t gonna come to anything anyway. I’ll put it up, campus employee will spot it, it’ll be taken down within an hour. And I’ll go on living a perfectly normal freshman existence.”

Lord willing.” Heather glanced over her shoulder. “Speak of the devil, Greg’s coming. Gotta go.

“Bye,” Christine said, and hung up.

She looked glumly at the sheet of paper she’d filled out (left-handed—didn’t want anyone to spot her handwriting, not, she supposed, that anyone would recognize it when she’d only been here a grand total of two weeks). In bold, block letters, it read:

Hiring: Young, Skinny, Wiry Lady. Not Under 18.​

Wanted: Young, Plump, Corpulent Lady. Not Under 18. Must Be Expert Eater. Willing to Fatten Daily. Hedonists Preferred.​

An email address followed—a burner, a string of random characters preceding the @gmail extension.

She made the mental calculations again. It was currently 8:00 PM; she could see through her window that the sun was starting to bleed pink across the sky, and most college employees would already have left the commons for the evening. If she walked over there now, stapled the ad to one of the community bulletin boards, and left, she might have all of one morning before the paper was ripped down and trashed.

Her fingers, long and slim, traced the edges of the message. She turned her wrist back and forth, considered the way its concave sides curved in before widening again at the base of her hand. She played her digits back and forth and watched the bones move beneath the skin.

“Fuck it.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

From: youngplumpcorpulentlady @ gmail . com

To: gbnrfht897 @ gmail . com

Subject: As regards your posting

Dear Young/Skinny/Wiry,

Was the keyboard-mashing for the email address really necessary? Not like using proper syntax makes you any less anonymous. See above. :p

Anyway, hi there! I saw your job posting just before its untimely demise at the hands of a janitor. Fished it out of the trash. And if you’re still taking applications, I think I’d be interested in putting my name forward.

Let’s meet. Tomorrow, cafeteria entrance, noon (assuming you’re free—only a freshman could be this standoffish, only an English major could have made this ad, and only a freshman English major would have Honors Composition I at 10:45 and Intro to Lit Studies at 1:25, so I imagine you’ve got a free period in between). I’ll bring my qualifications—I trust you’ll provide me yours.

Looking forward to it!

Yours truly,


- - - - - - - - - - - - -


"Is this not what you wanted?" Heather asked from the phone. "I swear, if you're gonna be a creep be consistent about it."

Christine paced up and down her dorm room. "I wanted to put it out there. I wanted to say I gave it a shot. I didn't want it to happen!" She barked her shin on the coffee table, swore again. "I'm a coward, you know this."

"So don't show up?"

Collapsing onto the couch and rubbing her shin, Christine groaned. "I have to show up! She's right, that's when I eat lunch!"

"Because no human could get something from a vending machine . . ."

"And I would feel bad."

Heather somehow rolled her eyes in a manner that was audible. "Look, college girl, you're gonna be disappointing your professors with your papers, you're gonna be disappointing your parents with your life choices, you're gonna be disappointing your roommate with your cleanliness. It's just how life works. You can afford to disappoint one extra person who could, for all you know, be a dude. Or a murderer. Or both."

"Thanks for the support, Heather." Christine rose from the couch and resumed pacing. "And for the record, my roommate is in, like, five different extracurriculars, so I wouldn't count on her being around enough to be disappointed. Which she wouldn't be. Because I'm clean."

"We've wandered from the point."

She stopped her track across the floor to take a look at herself in the full-length mirror (the one that said roommate, Bailey, had erected during orientation week, when she'd actually spent some waking hours in the dorm). Tall compared to Heather but short compared to Bailey. Hair a red dye job slowly eroding into pink. High cheekbones. Clavicle clearly visible through her skin. Thin wrists, thin legs. She placed a hand to her stomach; flat, unobtrusive, currently churning.

"Look, I don't have to commit to anything, right? I'm just meeting her. That's what college kids do. We force interactions with other people to make friends."

"No, that's what high school kids do. That's what we did. Granted, it turned out okay."

"And maybe it will this time." She pressed her hand to her stomach. Felt it twist. Willed the anxiety to pass.

Heather shrugged. "If you get murdered, I get your books."

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Re: Help Wanted [Fiction, Female]

Post by Faber » 06 May 2018, 08:28

12:10, and still no sign of her.

Not that she’d even know what a sign would look like, Christine thought. Or, for that matter, that Young/Plump/Corpulent would know what she looked like. She was holding her Honors Comp textbook in front of her midriff to give some sort of clue, but it wasn’t as though she was the only one in the class.

Well, there we go, she thought, strange mixture of anxiety and relief pulsing in her veins. The effort had been made, and it had been rejected. That was the end of—

“Wow, you weren’t kidding, Miss Wiry.”

Christine jumped, and whirled around, and felt her lower jaw drop just the faintest bit.

Her eyes gravitated toward the stomach and couldn’t move. It was huge, bulbous, round, a great gob of flesh that rolled out like a sphere from the middle of its owner. It was covered by a T-shirt that left no doubt in the way it clung that the entire thing was one great curve. It was gorgeous and Christine was terrified and Ohmygodyouhavetolookatherface.

Said face was brown and rich as chocolate, double chin softening its amused smirk. “Sara,” its owner said, and extended her hand.

Christine took it dumbly, felt the warm plump fingers close over her own. Stammered. “Chris—Christine.”

Sara flung her thumb over her shoulder. “Wanna grab a table, Christine?”

“I, ah, sure,” she managed. “Great.”

She watched Sara’s thighs roll over each other in a great quaking waddle, making their way to the nearest two-person table. The other girl yanked her chair out and sat, belly brushing the table enough that Christine could see its softness give inward. Doing her best not to stare, she slid her own chair out and sat.

There was silence for a few seconds. Christine considered the look in Sara’s eye; it was amused and maybe a bit sly and Christine wasn’t sure if that was making her any more anxious than she would be anyway. She was sure her own look was a bit dire; she could feel the blush heating up her cheeks.

Finally, Sara spoke. “So, how’s Honors Comp?”

“Oh, um, you know. Kinda boring—I already know how to write a paper, so . . .”

Sara waited a second, saw there was no more forthcoming. Smiled. “Well, fuck the small talk, then. Why do you want to get fat?”

The blush flared up to what Christine knew had to be flames. “I—well, I guess . . .”

“Oh, come on, you don’t have to be so embarrassed. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” She laid her hands on top of her bulging stomach. “And hey, that’s how I started. When I was a freshman I was tiny. Well, tinier. Now I’m a junior and look at me.”

“Really? Wow, that’s . . .”

The other girl laughed. “Fuckin’ come on, Christine! You can tell me it’s amazing! It took work to get where I am today. Beer gut big enough to be its own keg, ass big enough for two chairs, waddling everywhere I go.” She clapped both hands down on her stomach. “This right here was an effort.”

Christine felt herself, impossibly, flush even deeper, and before she could stop it a giggle slipped out. Sara raised an eyebrow and smirked, and Christine giggled again. “That’s amazing.”

That’s what I’m talking about!” She leaned back. “So. Why. Do you. Want to get fat?”

Another long pause, and then meekly: “Do you remember the movie Matilda?”

“Magic little girl? Danny DeVito? Sure.”

“And do you . . .” She paused. “Do you remember the scene where the kid has to eat a whole cake?”

Sara nodded.

Christine gathered up some effort and continued. “Well, after I watched the movie as a little kid, I would go back and watch that scene over and over and over again. I remember thinking, it must feel so weird to have all that inside you, so weird but so . . . good, you know? And to look like you’d had it inside you, to be so big that the whole . . . the whole world can see that you did that. And ever since then I’ve just . . . liked the idea of being big, you know?”

Sara looked thoughtful. “And why are you putting out ads about this, exactly?”

Christine felt very small. “You know, maybe this was stupid—”

“Nope, uh uh. You’ve got me here, you’re finishing the story.”

She sighed. “Because I’m too scared to do it myself. I’m too scared to try and stop being thin on my own.” A hopeful glance. “Was it like that for you?”

The fat girl shook her head. “Nah, not for me. Don’t get me wrong, I had help, but he was an enabler, right? I loved the idea of getting fat, he loved fat chicks, he helped me out. Sounds like you need a role model.”

“I—I guess.” Christine looked down at her fingers, folded on top of the table. “This is stupid, I didn’t think this through. I don’t even have anything to actually pay you with—”

“Okay, Lesson One of getting fat: you can’t be ashamed of free help. Because you’re going to need as much free food as you can get.” Sara shoved her chair back and rose to her feet. “Follow me.”

Christine stood up, confused. “Wait, where?”

“To get lunch, dummy. Role modeling starting now.”

The freshman followed behind the big girl’s rolling bulk, distractedly grabbing a tray without really thinking about it. Sara snatched it out of her hands. “I’m filling both our trays. Go grab four glasses of soda from the fountain. Meet me back at the table.” And with both trays in her hands, she waddled off.

Christine filled four glasses with Coke, took them through the line, handed her ID to the cashier to swipe. Felt her heart beating beneath her chest. Had this been a good idea? This had been a terrible idea. Had it?

She plopped the drinks on the table and waited, heart still racing. Then Sara came back, and Christine’s eyes widened.

Heaped across both trays were four burgers, buns shiny with grease; a cascade of fries that was overflowing the plates; approximately half a dozen cookies of various shapes and sizes; several pieces of fruit; and some napkins. “We’re sharing!” Sara said. “Figure this can be reciprocal. I coach you, you enable me, right? And all paid for by the dining funds of Carlesbard College.”

Christine gaped. “How—how much of this am I eating?”

Sara chuckled. “Tell you what, I’ll go first and you take what I don’t finish.”

And so Sara ate. And ate. And ate.

Two of the burgers disappeared in six bites each; Sara devoured them methodically, chewing firmly. Grease built up on her lips, which she wiped with a napkin. Between the two, she shoved fry after fry into her mouth. She paused, picked up the first glass of Coke, and gulped it down steadily, her throat making liquid noises and pulsing smoothly in and out. She sucked up the dregs, set the cup down, and let out a rich belch. Christine squirmed at this—people had to be watching—but Sara just smirked. “Oh, no one’s looking. And it feels fuckin’ sexy.” She picked up one of the apples and took a gigantic bite. “As a palate cleanser.”

Two thirds of the cookies vanished with smacking noises. Sara licked her lips; hiccupped. Christine felt she could almost see the other girl’s belly swelling. “And, last but not least,” Sara said, before chugging a second glass of Coke. She burped again with relish; a deep, rolling gurgle that sounded like a bullfrog escaping her throat.

The whole thing had taken maybe ten minutes.

Sara gestured at what was left. “Your turn.”

Christine shook her head, a bit dazed. “There’s no way I can eat all that.”

“Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you?” She snorted. “Just do as much as you can. I’ll give you tips.”

Christine stared at the mountain of food still sitting on the tray.

“Come on!” Sara said brightly. “We’ve still got forty minutes til your next class.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

She started with one of the remaining burgers. Bit tentatively, feeling the grease hit her tongue.

"Okay, you can't be fuckin' bashful here," Sara said. "Big bites."

Christine swallowed. "Um, okay." She wrapped her mouth around the burger and bit down. She felt the grease coat her lips. Chewed vigorously, trying to get the gigantic hunk of meat and bread down her throat so she could ask a question. "Do I have to eat like this every day?"

"Questions later. Eat."

Bite, chew, swallow, repeat. By the time she finished the burger, her stomach felt a weight at its base and her lips were uncomfortably slick. She wiped them off with a napkin. "Well, I'm full."

Sara pointed at one of the glasses of Coke. "Drink that. All at once. It'll fill you with air bubbles and you'll burp. That'll make room."

Christine looked around at the people sitting to the side, behind them. "I don't think that's something I want to—"

"You needed a coach, right? Trust me, no one cares."

Christine looked at the glass. Swallowed. Picked it up, felt the condensation running down her fingers. Put it to her lips and started gulping.

She had to stop halfway down—her stomach was roiling. She opened her mouth to say she really wasn't feeling up to this, and hiccupped violently. "Sara—hic—I . . . I—hulp—don't feel soHIC—"

Sara was giggling. "Do you not know how to burp?"

She shook her head, and hiccupped again.

"Well, we'll have to teach you that." She gestured at an apple. "Eat some of that, it'll settle your stomach."

Christine took one bite, two. There was a rock at the base of her stomach. It lurched, and she hiccupped again—it was loud, as if she'd been surprised.

Sara nodded. "Now, eat at least one cookie and finish your drink."


"We're looking to expand your stomach here, right? Only way to do that is to have you stretch it by eating more than you think you can. Come on, eventually this is just gonna feel like a light snack to you."

Over the next fifteen minutes, Christine ate the cookie, its sweetness nauseating. She sipped at the rest of the Coke. When she'd finished, she slumped back in her chair. She felt stupid, she felt sick.

Sara gave a thumbs-up. "Not bad for a direly skinny girl." She put a plump hand on Christine's shoulder. "I take it I'm hired?"

Christine opened her mouth, only for her stomach to hitch again. "YHULP"

The fat girl grinned. "Take that as a yes." She took Christine's hand in her own. "Before we're done we'll have those skinny things fat and happy." She stood. "Meet you back here, same time tomorrow. Bye, Miss Wiry!"

The freshman collapsed back in her chair and laid a hand on her churning stomach. She had a feeling she was going to miss Lit Studies.

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Re: Help Wanted [Fiction, Female]

Post by PlayThePage45 » 06 May 2018, 23:36

AMAZING start!! Is there anyway Christine could get drunk on a lot of beer at some point to help get her fat? Really great stuff though, keep up the good work :)

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Re: Help Wanted [Fiction, Female]

Post by RightWing » 08 May 2018, 20:16

Awesoe story so far and sexy as hell :ymblushing: can't wait for more
"It matters not who you love, where you love, why you love, when you love or how you love, it matters only that you love" John Lennon

:x :burp: :bigbelch: :bigbelch: :sodaburp: :ymapplause:

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Re: Help Wanted [Fiction, Female]

Post by Faber » 13 May 2018, 07:27

The rest of Christine's day consisted of weaving her way back to her dorm, waving hello to Bailey, and lying on her bed, rubbing her stomach. One thing the stories online definitely lied about, she thought, was the satisfaction of overwhelming fullness. She didn't feel satisfied, just sick.

"So she isn't a stalker," Heather said over the phone. "She's just indirectly trying to kill you."

"ShHIC—she's just enthusiastic," Christine replied halfheartedly. "Ugh."

"Serves you right for trying to get some feeding fairy godmother."

"Yeah, well. I'm going back tomorrow."

"You've learned nothing?"

"It's supposed to hurt at first. I've just got to—hulp—work on expanding my stomach. Which is the goal, anyway."

"Uh huh. Well, if I don't hear from you I'll assume your stomach exploded."

"Ugh. Don't say that word."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day, Sara was already seated at the same table they'd used for the last session, pile of food laid out in front of her. Christine hung back for a second, then blew out a breath and ambled forward.

The older, fatter girl waved. "Hiccups gone?"

Christine nodded. "After most of the afternoon."

"Damn. For someone who wants to get fat you're not used to eating much, are you?"

She shook her head. "We all have to start somewhere, right?"

"Speaking of that, we've gotta work on your stomach situation," Sara said, giving her globular belly a pat. "Now, don't get me wrong, you were really fucking cute yesterday. Hiccuping uncontrollably, middle of sentences and everything? Adorable. But it's not workable longterm. If you really want to eat like I do, you're going to have to learn how to burp." She laughed. "Aww, you're blushing. Embarrassed?"

"It's just—" She gestured at the populated tables nearby.

Sara snorted. "If you cared what regular bystanders think about you wouldn't have recruited me in the first place. Now, before you eat anything, take this." She slid a bottle of soda across the table with her pudgy hand. Christine took it dubiously.

"I want you to chug as much of that as possible in one go."

The freshman twisted the cap off, looked at the bottle, hesitated. "Here goes, I guess," she said, and tipped her head back.

After yesterday's debacle, she really didn't want to make herself look bad in front of Sara again. If she was in this, she might as well throw herself to the wolves. And so she gulped, and gulped, and gulped. The carbonation burned her throat, and already she could feel her stomach starting to fizz the way it had yesterday, but she made her throat keep working. She focused on the sound the liquid made surging down her throat: ULPulp, ULPulp, ULPulp.

"Well," Sara said. "I'm impressed."

Christine rocked her head forward—the bottle, it appeared, was mostly empty.

"Now," Sara said, a twinkle in her eye, "you've got a lot of air trapped in there. That's the important thing. But instead of it jumping out at you, like the hiccups, you need to make it come out." She took the glass she'd been drinking from, brought it to her lips, and took a few swigs. "It's like a sort of roll you make with your stomach." And, to emphasize her point, she belched, a short bit of punctuation.

Christine put a hand to her stomach, and tried to do as she'd been told. She could feel the soda sloshing around in there, making little waves back and forth. She pressed a little with her hand, immediately felt that was a bad idea, and backed off. "Give—hic—me a minute."

Several more seconds of her rolling her diaphragm back and forth. And then, she felt something in her belly surge, and burped. It wasn't much—just a faint, guttural sound—but Sara clapped anyway. "Doesn't that feel better?"

It did, actually, though Christine had to quickly shoot a glance over her shoulder to make sure no one had heard.

Sara chuckled. "You'll stop doing that before too long, believe me."

The freshman turned her gaze to the mountain of food in front of her. "So, um, how much of this am I eating?"

"Well," said the fat girl, "you'll notice that all the stuff on your half of the table is in bags. Your assignment for today is to just take this with you. Don't stop eating until you go to bed or the food runs out. Big meals are important, but so are the little things." She patted Christine's hand sympathetically. "Plus, you downing that entire bottle isn't the best prelude to eating a lot at once."

Christine nodded gratefully.

"I, however, am going to continue eating, if you care to watch and take notes."


And eat she did—about three separate lunches were devoured by the other girl over the next twenty minutes. Christine did indeed take notes—Take big bites but make sure to chew them. Drink a lot in between food so you'll burp. Try to alternate between greasy and lighter stuff if possible.

When it was over, Sara breathed in, her belly expanding, and gave a mammoth belch, one that spoke of a challenge conquered. "You'll see," she said. "Best feeling in the world." She shoved her chair back and rose to her feet. "Now get out there and eat."

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Re: Help Wanted [Fiction, Female]

Post by RightWing » 15 May 2018, 18:19

:ymblushing: loving this story so far, definitely can’t wait for her to start stuffing more and more
"It matters not who you love, where you love, why you love, when you love or how you love, it matters only that you love" John Lennon

:x :burp: :bigbelch: :bigbelch: :sodaburp: :ymapplause:

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