# Harem: Alyshia's Story by Forgotten_Futures (~BBW, Eating, ~SWG)



## Forgotten_Futures (Aug 12, 2008)

_~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).]

*Harem: Alyshia's Story
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.


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## Forgotten_Futures (Aug 12, 2008)

*Chapter 1, Part 2*

Alyshia spent the next month continuing to wallow in her own world of ignorant bliss. Her reward for such behavior manifested itself as nine more pounds of fat, most of it settling about her middle once again. She was leafing through her purse, looking for her keys for another shopping trip, when she recalled the young man's business card. 

Pulling it out, she took one look at her growing paunch and the breasts overflowing her bra's cups. She knew she needed to do something about this, at least come up with money for some new clothes, before her wardrobe situation had a chance to get any worse!

Pulling the most presentable outfit which still fit over her swiftly bulging body, she hoped she looked better than she felt. She could clearly see her stomach poking out between the waistband of her blue velour sweatpants and cotton blouse. The stretchy pants were uncomfortably snug about her waist, but it was them or the athletic shorts, and she didn't feel shorts were proper wear for something akin to a job interview.

The drive out to the man's office was uneventful, though she stopped by the donut shop again for a half dozen as her breakfast. She arrived at the man's office - the name on the card was Ted Engveld - to find the waiting room empty. A plump, pleasant mannered young woman sat behind a desk at the far end of the room.

“Hello, my name is Alyshia, I came to see Mr. Engveld. Is he here?”

“Yes ma'am, right in the back. The door is marked. Would you like me to show you?”

“No, thank you, I should be able to find it.” Alyshia turned down the indicated hallway, smoothing her top against her tummy. Mr. Engveld's door was indeed easy to find. She knocked gently and heard his baritone voice beckon her inside.

As she closed the door, Mr. Engveld greeted her warmly. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to take me up on my offer. Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?”

“Umm, coffee would be fine, thanks.” She sat down in the chair, feeling her tummy bulge compress and roll out further. She'd noticed it in the car, too, but here she wasn't the only one to notice it. She tugged at the bottom of her blouse, hoping it would at least obscure the fleshy roll from view even if the fabric didn't totally cover it.

Mr. Engveld deposited a steaming cup of coffee on the end table next to her chair, along with sugar, cream, and a small plate heaped with donuts. She made the coffee to taste, then helped herself to a glazed donut, despite not having asked for one. Mr. Engveld sat behind his desk and started some idle chatter while he shuffled papers around.

After about thirty minutes of small talk Alyshia was beginning to wonder if something was up when Mr. Engveld placed his hands on the desk. “Alyshia - pretty name, by the way - I regret to inform you that I may have misled you somewhat in the store last month.”

“W-what do you mean?” Alyshia spoke around her fourth donut during the now half-hour interview, a chocolate with chocolate icing.

“I believe I told you I was in the business of finding jobs for people. While this itself was not a lie, my purposes are personal and not so much business.”

Missing the implications of that statement, Alyshia swallowed what was in her mouth, and anxiously asked, “But you do have a job for me?”

Mr. Engveld paused, “I might... but there are a few things we'd need to discuss, first.”

“I'm listening.” She reached for a fifth donut and took a bite.

“Well... I mean no offense, but I must be frank about this. When I met you in the supermarket some weeks ago I was given the impression you had been rapidly gaining weight. The fact you appear to have gained more since then confirms my suspicions. Am I correct?”

Alyshia looked down at her belly, clearly bulging out beyond the swell of her breasts. 

“Y-yes...” she said meekly, blushing furiously.

Mr. Engveld nodded, “I thought as much. Alyshia, what I have to offer is a very select sort of job. It pays $40,000 a year, includes lodging, food, and health and dental benefits. The list of requirements is rather short and simple. Would you like to hear more?”

Alyshia nodded, taking her next bite somewhat more eagerly than she had just been eating.

“Okay, the basic concept is that you move in to my mansion - along with the other girls who already work there - perform chores around the house, and eat to your heart's content.”

“Other girls? This sounds like a harem to me...”

“Some of the girls jokingly call it that. And while it is true that I have sought companionship with those willing, it is not a part of the job in itself and is neither required nor a part of your performance.”

Alyshia, not a dumb girl by any definition, took a moment to mull this over. “If I read you right, you're telling me you pay a bunch of women to live with you, gain weight, and... care for something?”

“Myself, the house, and each other. Duties include housekeeping, gardening, cooking... I of course do some work myself, and there's plenty of recreation involved.”

“There's something you're not telling me...”

“Unfortunately, yes, there is, but it's something you can't know before you're hired. However I assure you it is not unpleasant or in any way bad for you.”

“What if I... start and decide it's not for me?”

“There is a break in period, during which you are more than welcome to quit if you feel you need to. Once you pass that period however the job is more or less permanent, for reasons you will understand once you reach that point.”

Alyshia thought about it, really wracking her brain, forgetting about the donut in her hand long enough for the icing on top to melt under her fingertips. Mr. Engveld's offer was extremely enticing - but it was this very feeling which made her the most uneasy. She wanted to do this - eat for a living and get fatter as a result - but why?

“I'm sorry Mr. Engveld-”

“Call me Ted, please, Alyshia.”


Alyshia's cheeks flushed just a little, nearly impossible to pick out with her complexion. “Alright, Ted. I'm sorry, but this is all just too much at once. I'm not saying no, but I need to think about this first.”

“I understand fully. You're not the first to have these thoughts of course, nor are you likely to be the last. I can give you a month to decide. And, as a bonus, I'll even give you access to a small expense account, so that if you continue to be unemployed, you'll at least have a means to pay your bills and such, including some new clothes. How does that sound?”

“That sounds... like way more than I deserve. I'm... not very comfortable with that, actually.”

“You feel you'll owe me? Nonsense. I do it because I can, and because I want to. If I was that unwilling to be turned down, do you really think I'd give you a month to think it over?”

“Well... no... but...”

“Go home, Alyshia. Straighten yourself out. Whether or not you choose to work for me, it will help you to know yourself better.”

Feeling suddenly awkward - not to mention quite full from the dozen donuts packed into her chubby belly between her donut shop stopover and the interview - Alyshia stood and tried to leave the office as quickly as possible without seeming to rush. The secretary bid her a pleasant day, then she was back through the doors and outside once more.


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## Forgotten_Futures (Aug 12, 2008)

*Chapter 1, Part 3 *

Dropping into the driver's seat, Alyshia took a moment to compose herself. Just before she turned the keys in the ignition, there was a muted crash, followed by... something streaking up into the sky not far from her location. She craned her neck to try and get a good look, but it was just too fast - moments after her first glimpse, the thing was gone. Wondering what could possibly have happened, she resolved to get home ASAP and deal with the problems she could confront.

Arriving back at her apartment complex, Alyshia was astounded to discover a mid-sized stack of boxes sitting outside the door of her apartment. She pawed around them for a few seconds before finding a note attached to one of them. _'Thought I'd send over some supplies. - Ted'_

Mixed emotions of surprise, intrigue, and a muted sense of dread flowed through her. She vaguely recalled filling out some basic forms at the office just earlier. It must have gotten lost in the conversation and the donuts. Realizing this, she suddenly had cause to realize she’d eaten a half a dozen donuts during the interview. 

Poking her bulging stomach, she whispered quietly to it. “Just how much food did I put in you?”

A door slamming down the hall reminded her she was not actually inside yet startled her into action. Throwing open the door, she lugged the boxes inside, eventually getting them set up in the kitchen. Something told her they'd wind up belonging there anyhow.

Cracking open the first box, she found her intuition had been right. It was brimming with boxes and bags of uncooked pasta. The second box yielded mostly soups. Opening the other boxes in turn, she found herself with a couple hundred pounds of food, including the pasta, soup, dehydrated mashed potatoes, vegetable oil spread (so it wouldn't perish as quickly as butter), chocolate syrup, cake and brownie mixes, oil, microwave popcorn, chips and dip, bags of frozen French fries, fudge, TV dinners, soda... pretty much everything she needed to keep herself fed for the next week or two.

Alyshia set about putting all the goodies away and quickly realized she did not have nearly enough freezer space for all the frozen goods. She could partly remedy this problem by turning the fridge temperature down as low as it would go, but she didn't dare store any of the food that way for very long. Thus she resolved to finish off the frozen goods first. But first a little nap was in order to sleep off the morning's intake.

A couple hours later, refreshed and once again feeling somewhat hungry - for better or worse, she'd gotten rather used to having her stomach full all the time - Alyshia headed for the kitchen to get some fries baking. Not long afterwards she was once again situated in front of the TV in her underwear, popping fries into her mouth one after the other, the sound, smell, taste, and visual sensory data all slurring together inside her brainwashed head.

It was remarkably easy to settle into this routine. Day after day of waking up, showering, feeling her hands glide over the soap-slicked surface of her ever-thickening form, then the next thing she new, plopped in front of the TV surrounded by snacks again. She had to get herself out of this rut - do something different with her time.

Drifting up through her consciousness came the word, “job”. She paused and thought a moment, then shoved another handful of chips in her mouth. 

_'Job?'_ she thought, chewing. _'What-'_

It hit her like a sack of bricks to the face. “Oh my word, what day is it?” she blurted out, half-chewed chips flying from her mouth. 

“The job offer!”

It took her a few precious seconds to heave herself off the couch and begin scrambling for a calendar. In the end she was shocked to discover that nearly three weeks had passed since the trip to Ted's office. _'It's been three WEEKS?! Oh my goodness, how could I have lost such track of time?'_

Having been shocked out of her consumption-oriented stupor, Alyshia looked down at herself - and gasped out loud. Her belly was huge, and looked like it was packed tight. She couldn't see her underwear over it or her flabby love handles. She couldn't even see her thighs, just the tips of her toes showed beyond the edge of her gut. Her breasts, still firm despite the past weeks of relatively rapid growth, overfilled the cups of her bra, distorting the fabric as it attempted to envelop and support her boobs.

Cleaning up the area around the couch, putting away the snacks, Alyshia sat down to think about things. The near-trance of gluttony she'd been in frightened her, but she needed to understand it - especially with the month to straighten herself out almost over.

Her brain wouldn't quite focus though, so she latched on to that first. Why wouldn't it focus? Idly, she stuck a hand under the bulge of her tummy and massaged the point where the waistband of her panties dug into the skin. An electric thrill coursed through her, stopping her hand where it was. Curious, she stripped and sat down again. This time, her head was clearer. Frowning, she grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil and wrote, 'tight panties = arousal?' on it.

Just to test the theory further, she pulled off her bra as well. The twinge became nearly unnoticeable, so she underlined the note. The next matter of curiosity was the eating. Her mouth began to water at thoughts of chomping through bags of chips, feeding endless meals into her tummy. She was halfway to the kitchen before she caught herself and sat down again. She grabbed the notepad and wrote, 'love to eat?' on it.

She pondered this one for a while, carefully steering clear of any actual thoughts of food. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

As a kid, growing up, she had enjoyed the last 3 months of the year more than any other member of her family. Starting with Thanksgiving - and going straight through to Christmas - she'd just cut loose and eat, which always resulted in her getting a little chunky, after which she'd lose it again when she went back to her normal intake. She'd never really thought about it, and whenever anyone made to ask she'd joke about it being “part of the holiday spirit”. But now...

Was that all just an excuse? She rubbed her bloated stomach thoughtfully. _'Was I really eating like that because I could get away with it?'_ Another thought occurred to her. She couldn't remember ever buying new clothes during those times she plumped up. She just dealt with the fact her middle was bulging out of her excessively tight pants. In fact, it had kinda made her...

Alyshia gasped in sudden shocked realization. _'It made me horny! Walking and sitting around in those tight pants and shirts, feeling my fat being dug into by my clothes...' _she licked her lips, _'making a pig of myself...'_. Alyshia looked down at her packed full belly, rubbing it, for the first time in her life truly acknowledging what it meant to her. For once, she didn't see it as just a result of excessive snacking, it was a centerpiece of pleasure. Eating, being fat and constricting it, these things turned her on, made her feel so happy that she'd spent the past 3 months mindlessly gorging and fattening herself to combat the depression of being laid off.

Even so, she knew what she was doing was bad, in a health sense, and needed to be stopped. But that in no way meant she had to curtail her new habit. Picking up the credit card Ted had given her for the month, she made her way to her computer, but stopped herself partway there. Grinning deviously, she darted back to the den to pull her underthings back on.

Slipping into her bedroom, she pulled on her smallest, most stretchy tank top. The spandex fabric conformed perfectly to her curves, the hem biting into her belly about an inch above her navel. Smiling to herself, she rummaged through her drawers for one particular pair of shorts, the tiny pair she'd always worn when she wanted to feel especially sexy. Now, with her new understanding, she realized it was because - even with her thinner physique - it had squeezed her middle as though a belt had been strapped there and tightened until the flesh simply would not budge further. Getting into them had always been a pain, but it was that pain she loved more than anything.

Finally finding the shorts she wanted, she bent to step into them. The jelly roll of her tummy surged forward and down over the hem of her panties, batter just being poured from a bowl, frozen as it spilled over the edge and began its plummet into the cake pan. The likening of her belly to delicious fatty food only turned her on more. She distantly recalled having made and eaten multiple cakes this past month. Her stomach, despite being full, growled its desire for the moist, fudgy slabs she'd so eagerly funneled into her greedy mouth. She patted her stomach like an impatient child, cooing at it, “Don't worry, mommy will feed you cake again, I promise.” 

She gave her belly one more caress, then remembered the shorts.

Stooping further to begin pulling them up, she straightened slowly, easing them up her thighs. They hadn't seen too much growth, but they were not exactly toothpicks to begin with. The denim construct rose with some difficulty, sliding along slowly as she pulled harder, coaxing them onwards. Up they went, over her hips, around her tight round butt, and then they were settled around her waist - or as settled as they were going to get.

Her blubbery love handles forced the flaps down on the sides, folding them back against the main body of the shorts. She had known well before hand getting them buttoned would be out of the question, but that wasn't her goal. Standing there, with her belly pushing ponderously out through the wide V of the zipper, she felt how truly fat she had become.

Eager to add to the sensation, she walked - waddled, really, with the constricting pressures of the far-too-small shorts - to the closet and selected her longest and widest belt. Though it took some effort - the spare tire she wore resisting mightily her efforts to hold the flaps up long enough to thread the belt through the belt loops - she finally got the thick strap of leather wound around her chubby form.

She felt a thrill noticing that the belt was indeed to small to fit comfortably around her gut. Grasping an end in each hand, she pulled with all her might, inching the last hole of the belt towards the catch inside the metal buckle. Just when she was about to give up, the thin metal rod slid through the belt, and she relaxed, for all the good it did.

She was now in an exquisite level of pain, her stomach pressed - squeezed - up against the cold metal buckle of the thick leather belt. It oozed both above and below the belt as much as it could, but the belt held fast. Smiling against the pain, working hard to control her labored breathing, Alyshia crept slowly to her study, and the desk chair waiting there.

After what seemed like an eternity, Alyshia stood in front of the desk chair, one thought in her head. _'Now, let's see if this belt can take me, sitting down.'_

Suiting action to thought, Alyshia dropped back down into the chair - and her middle exploded in pain. The compression her stomach experienced from sitting caused it to try and bulge outward even more, but with the belt there it ran into unexpected resistance. Waves of hurt washed through her as her insides struggled to overcome this strange resistance. She tried to scream, but could not draw enough breath to do so. The erotic pleasure of her game paled in comparison to the fright she was experiencing now, thinking she'd pass out, assuming she didn't rupture something first.

Without warning, there was a terrific stuttered popping noise, and Alyshia thought she was going to die before long. She closed her eyes, unable to face the end...

Five minutes later she cracked open her eyes, finally becoming aware that breathing had become easier and she was not, in fact, dead. Surveying the scene in front of her, the first thing she noticed was the belt. Its two ends were no longer connected, but had been thrown wide from each other, such that each was angled away from her body to the right or left of her. Secondly she noticed, with an odd feeling, that despite her stomach's being compressed by her seated posture, it actually felt less restricted than when she'd first gotten the shorts on.

Curious, she tried to lean forward for a better look, but her jelly belly merely rolled forward into her lap as she got her face closer to it. Sighing, she stood and walked to the bathroom, which itself had not gotten too much easier to accomplish.

Standing in the middle of the room, she faced the full-length mirror mounted on one wall and broke out in laughter.

The pressure caused by her stomach rolling forward had not just popped her belt open, but had also shredded the seam running from the groin of the shorts up to the zipper. The destruction of this barrier had allowed her stomach to regain most of the freedom it experienced without the shorts on, while keeping her legs and butt packed in tightly - thus the continued difficulty walking.

She had to steady herself on the wall with one hand as the fits of laughter began to make breathing difficult. The angled view of her belly rolling down and out at the behest of gravity thoroughly pleased her, and she took a moment to gaze upon her distended middle before wiggling back out of the shorts. Standing before the mirror in her panties, her upper body still mostly covered by the skintight tank top, she turned on one foot, displaying a sexy profile, before returning to the study. If it hadn't been obvious before, it was clear now that she needed some new clothes. And something other than junk food in the house. 

Growing up in her house, with her mother, she was no slouch at cooking. She would enjoy this last week, drowning herself in fine dining before she went off to change her wardrobe and start getting paid to turn herself on.
_
Story continued in post 11_


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## Observer (Aug 13, 2008)

bump after edit


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## ThatIsThat (Aug 13, 2008)

I love this so far!


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## tarquin (Aug 20, 2008)

AMAZINGLY good story - can't wait for next chapter!


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## Forgotten_Futures (Aug 26, 2008)

There will be more to this before long - look for it later this week. I've done some work but need time to revise and get some more down. I worked every night last week and that tends to be the time of day I'm most apt to write... I know that 40 hours might not seem like much to those of you who work it normally, but for a part timer who's used to half that...


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## tarquin (Oct 22, 2008)

Great story! Hope to see another chapter soon.


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## curvluver (Oct 22, 2008)

Great read so far! Keep up the great work, and I look forward to reading more in the future!


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## cals46855 (Oct 22, 2008)

Fantastic story please give us more


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## Forgotten_Futures (Oct 23, 2008)

I was planning to lengthen this part a bit more before I got it up, but seeing as I'm not in the right mood/mindset to write more at this time and don't know when I will be... combined with three new positive comments...

I can safely post this much as I've ironed it out enough already to be happy with.

*Chapter 2, Part 1*

Since she was quite full, yet still mobile, Alyshia decided now was a good time to order some things online. She fired up her computer and sat down to browse.

The first order of business, her tummy reminded her, was to order up some real food. The local market delivered if one's order was large enough, so she headed to their website and began paging through the item lists. She still had loads of pasta left from Ted Engveld's initial shipment - the cooking time had been utterly unsuitable to her “hypnotic binge” sessions, and so she hadn't really touched that. Fortunately, she had already finished up almost everything else, which was a good thing in that she vowed to eat healthier for this next week.

Healthy, of course, did not necessarily mean low intake - she simply wanted a more balanced diet instead of cake, brownies, and junk food all the time. While the latter had certainly fattened her up pretty fast, she knew it wasn't a sustainable eating pattern.

Having tallied up a list of assorted cooking goods, milk, fruit juices, cheeses, breads, deli meats, veggies, fruits, and a variety of uncooked meats including a 5-pound turkey, she snuck on a couple cartons of ice cream and happily put the $124.83 order on Ted's company card. It would arrive the next morning at the very latest.

Pleased with herself, she next moved on to an online clothing store she'd purchased from in the past. She needed to measure herself a bit, and so stood and fetched a sewing tape. Quickly moving over her body, she tallied herself up as 35C-38-44. She knew the inflated waist measurement was partly a result of the food in her stomach, and so decided she'd be wearing stuff at her hips for the time being, until she had access to an easier way to scale sizes (she had to assume that, with a mansion “staffed” with many women, clothing would be in ample supply at all sorts of sizes).

For the moment, Alyshia settled on a new bra, ordering a few at 35C and a couple an inch up. She also got some undershirts in medium to replace her small, tight ones. She didn't particularly mind if they, too, were a little snug - she liked that feeling after all. Lastly she went for some of her favorite athletic shorts in a medium/large size. She also got some panties, hoping the size 8 ones wouldn't be too loose early in the morning, nor too tight after she'd stuffed herself.

Sticking that order on Ted's card and choosing overnight shipping, Alyshia took the time to catch up on her email - a lot of people had mailed her, and mailed more when she didn't respond the first time. It took a while to get all the, “I'm fine, thanks for caring!” messages out, but she managed. She also went looking at her bills, knowing she must have missed some, but an unnamed benefactor had intervened and kept her from being overdue for anything. She made a mental note to thank Ted.

Having finished what she needed to get done, she checked the clock. It was only 7:13 PM, so she decided to call Ted. The phone rang a couple of times before she heard a soothing contralto voice at the other end of the line.

“Hello, you've reached the personal residence of Ted Engveld, how may I help you today?”

“Uhh, hi, my name is Alyshia Delawney, I was hoping I could speak with Mr. Engveld...”

“Certainly ma'am, one moment please.”

The line was cut through with a white noise silence for a few seconds, then Ted's pleasant tenor came on.

“Ted Engveld speaking, how may I help you?”

“Hi, Ted, it's Alyshia.”

“Alyshia! I'd begun to wonder if everything was alright. Everything IS alright, I hope?”

“I think so. I just spent the past few hours doing some serious self-discovery and finally used that card of yours.”

“Ahh, good. Does this mean you're ready to join us?”

“Not quite. I have a week left, I wanted to use it to enjoy myself as a new person... if that makes any sense.”

“Of course it does. I take it you've come to terms with your body and your weight gain-”

“Yes, pretty much.”

“-and you want to immerse yourself in that alone first?”

Alyshia was startled by the accuracy of his statement. “Y-yes. How did you know?”

"Like I told you three weeks ago - you're not the first, and you won't be the last. Many of the girls here have had revelations much like what you probably just did. Relax, if you're going to be working here I want you completely at ease with yourself, all of yourself. Because there's only going to be more to be at ease with.” Ted finished the sentence with a light chuckle.

Alyshia laughed back, “Yes, I believe there will be. Thank you, Ted. I'll see you in a week?”

“I'll have the movers ready. Just let me know when you're ready to go.”

“I will. Good bye.”

Alyshia hung up, full of radiant energy, pleased with herself and secretly thrilled that Ted seemed to be just as pleased. It wasn't really like her, but then, this was a new her, just like she'd said. Maybe the new her liked that kind of flattery. She'd find out, in time. For now, however, she wanted to get some sleep before her week of treating herself began in earnest. Slipping out of her clothes, she pulled the sheets over her plump body and drifted off.

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

Despite how early she'd gone to bed the night before, Alyshia's internal clock was unused to being roused before 8 AM, and thus she was jarred from sleep by the ringing of her apartment's doorbell. Her eyes snapped open, instantly awake, and she scrambled about looking for something modest to wear before she gave up and threw on a plush terry-cloth bathrobe.

Cinching the garment's equally soft belt about her waist on the way to the door, she worked to remember why the bell would be ringing this early in the morning. Pulling open the door, she was greeted by a delivery boy bearing multiple boxes of goods on a hand truck.

“Delivery for-” the young man checked his PDA, pronouncing the name phonetically “-Alisha Dellawney?”

Alyshia smiled warmly. “That would be me.”

The young man returned her smile. “Well then, would you like me to bring this in for you ma'am?”

“Yes, please. You can leave it in the front room.” As the delivery boy turned to tilt the hand truck and lug her groceries into the apartment, Alyshia turned and headed for her purse in her study. Pulling out her wallet, she reached for a couple singles, then remembered the upcoming job. Feeling spontaneous, she pulled out a ten dollar bill instead and returned to the main room.

The delivery boy was just straightening from stacking the boxes on the floor of the sitting room, pulling a stylus from the PDA and ticking away at a few things. The machine made a little 'beep' of achievement with each press, as though pleased to be doing its work.

As Alyshia approached, the young man turned the device around and handed it to her, stylus protruding a little from its nest. She took the blocky electronic gadget in one hand, then transferred it to the other, resting it on top of the bill. Pulling the stylus with a little flourish, she signed her name and handed back the PDA. The young man tapped something on the screen and dropped the PDA into a side pocket. His eyes widened briefly in surprise, betraying the fact he'd seen the tip, but he was too good to say anything obvious.

“Thank you, ma'am. Have a good day.”

“I will, and you as well.”

She saw him out the door, leaning back against the steel-cored prism of wood for a second before she skipped over to the boxes of groceries. Her mouth watered and she felt a giddy, childish joy as she pulled open the fold-shut lids, gazing hungrily down at the goods. She wasted no time piling them all in cabinets, the fridge, and the freezer, then set about making herself a delicious batch of pancakes.

Digging around turned up an unopened bottle of maple syrup, and she sat down to a breakfast of twelve pancakes in stacks of three. Pulling the knot on the belt, throwing off the robe, she ate her pancakes like a total slob, using her hands to dunk them in a bowl of syrup, which drizzled all over her front on the way to her mouth. The amount of front she had to drizzle on slowly but surely grew as more of the pancakes and syrup transferred from the table to the inside of her bulging tummy.

With two pancakes left, Alyshia considered stopping and leaving herself some room. The thought had barely crossed her mind when a sly grin lit her face. '_I'm a growing girl,'_ she reminded herself, '_and growing girls need to eat.'_

She sat back in the kitchen chair, unable to lean forwards due to the pain it caused her. She took an extra large scoop of syrup, knowing she'd probably lose half of it on the trip to her mouth. Bite after bite, Alyshia forced her way through the final two pancakes. Moaning with pleasure and groaning with fullness, she just managed to lick the bowl clean before it fell from her shaking hands, clattering noisily to the floor.

She slouched in the chair, trying to find the most comfortable position for her stuffed belly. She rubbed its sides, feeling how solid it was, absolutely packed with food. She knew she'd been here before - her ability to eat so much in one sitting proved she'd been expanding her capacity through regular stuffing - but this was the first time she was conscious of it.

She had no memory of being this full in her life. As a youngling, she'd made quite a pig of herself three months of every year, but never to the point of being truly stuffed. Alyshia felt like someone had slid a beach ball down her throat and blown it up until every bit of available space was taken. The only give her middle presented was from the ring of fat already there. This wasn't a tightness she could defeat by loosening her belt or waiting for the button of her pants to pop - she was already as unrestrained as possible given the laws of physics.

Having absolutely nothing in reach to keep herself entertained, and feeling certain that attempting to stand would probably make her pass out, Alyshia settled on the only option she had - she played with herself. The night before had been erotic enough with the forced tightness and the sudden sense of doom when she'd dropped into the desk chair, but this was an entirely different high. She swirled her fingers over her stuffed belly, sometimes caressing, sometimes just barely brushing.

Tingles raced through her middle, up and down her spine, the pleasure sensation so strong she almost lost muscle control. She just managed to keep her arms up only because every time they threatened to drop, the pleasure wave subsided as her fingers lost contact with her flesh. Alyshia kept herself on the cusp of orgasm, unable to push that last little bit yet equally unwilling to give up. There was a block of C-4 between her legs, and if she could just reach a little farther she might find the detonator...


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## GordoNegro (Oct 29, 2008)

Definately anticipating to read what's next for Alyshia.


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## lizzy (Nov 1, 2008)

Loving this so far.


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## Forgotten_Futures (Dec 1, 2008)

Just a quick update: The end of the semester is approaching and my interest in writing is making a comeback. Expect to see some new stuff here by the first full week of January. I apologize for the severe (albiet normal) lag in updating this story.


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## Browniestuff (Jan 26, 2009)

Were you going to write more to this story? It's excellent!


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## Forgotten_Futures (Feb 1, 2009)

Yes, I am. I was admittedly planning to have something well before now... I've gotten myself involved in a play-by-email role play again so that should "wake up" my writing interests again... Not giving a timeframe this time though since I missed the last two I said I would hit = P


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## OfftoOtherPlaces (Feb 2, 2009)

I found that if I waited for writing time to come to me, it never would. I just had to make the time whether it felt right or not.

Post more plz


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## Oirish (Feb 3, 2009)

Damn that cliffhanger! Lol. Its great so far. Can't wait for more.


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