# Fully Processed Pudding - by Cat Tac (~BBW (Multiple), Eating, ~XWG)



## Observer (Jul 2, 2008)

_~BBW (Multiple), Eating, ~XWG -_ A very successful company's CEO seems to be channeling much of the profit into a unique employee benefit 

*Fully Processed Pudding 
by Cat Tac 

Some months ago it was noted in another thread that the Weight Room link to the below story was corrupted and this story feared lost. Happily it has now been retrieved and is re-posted here)​*
*Chapter 1*

Miss X was so pretty her co-worker "friends" were jealous. She had a well-paid job and was fabulously fit working out in the company gym everyday. Not all in the garden was rosy, though as she had had a series of awful relationships with people she had known at work. This had resulted in a big distraction from her academic work to become a qualified accountant and, ultimately, obtain an executive position on the board. 

She had eventually been forced to leave the firm because she had failed her accountancy exams three years in a row and could not stand the stigma of watching more junior people promoted over her as her academic failures had continued. 

She had applied for the new job with a firm in the big city, which was a position she considered far beneath the one she currently occupied but did pay a higher salary despite its junior status. 

The day of the interview arrived, and she had called in sick at her existing place of work; she did not want to lose any holiday entitlement, after all. 

She arrived just in time for the interview, despite the poor public transportation service that she'd had to use. She was told to sit down by the receptionist, who had left the room some time ago, only to return with a very creamy coffee full of sugar. 

"They are ready to see you now," she was eventually told, and led into a room. 

She sunk down into a very low very wide armchair and felt quite humble as she looked up at the three panelists who were going to interview her.

She sipped her coffee and grew quite used to its sweetness as she began to relax. She was surprised how calm she had become as the panel in front of her - who were still talking amongst themselves - had yet to address her. 

She had been surprised by her potential interviewers, who were not only very young for what must be very senior jobs, but they were all, without exception, at least double her own weight. 

The lady in the middle of the fat panelists spoke first from behind the big table. "We are pleased to meet you and apologize that we kept you waiting so long in the waiting room." 

Miss X felt more relaxed and just sat there smiling while the boss spoke. It occurred to her that she must be looking a bit stupid after five minutes and so interjected with a rather unrelated question about the sports facilities available to the staff. The boss looked annoyed by the interruption, and one of the other panelists politely answered her question. 

"There used to be a gym here, which I used to use when I joined a year ago, but it was replaced by an expanded staff restaurant..." 

The boss interrupted her fat colleague and said, "This is rather a good point to have a break and introduce you to the facility. We can continue after our meals." 

Young Miss X was surprised at the time she had been in the interview suite. 

She looked at her pretty gold watch, and it was 11.30 already, an hour since she had left the waiting room. 

Even so, it seemed a little early for lunch - which was already at a table for her, next to others for her new found fat colleagues. By now, she was confident she had the job, and her mind was already racing at the thought of giving her notice in at her old place. 

Normally, she would have protested at the amount of food laid before her and its nature (full of calories). But he was hungry from having missed breakfast and this did not appeasr to be a corporate culture where meals were often skipped. The other girls smiled at each other as they saw the greedy thoughts go through the new girl's mind. 

"Of course, there is the company car and the $5000, 6 month bonus to consider in addition to your starting salary," said the young blonde, head of personnel. 

"Would you like some more pudding?" said the boss. "The chefs here pride themselves on them!" Miss X's little tummy was already threatening to explode, but she could not refuse as she was so happy with the pay and perks for the job, which was probably on offer. 

"I would love some but I must use your washroom." 

The lady from personnel offered to take her there and had already heaved herself from her seat to oblige the potential new recruit. 

The walk back to the restaurant along the decadent corridor had sufficiently shifted the large meal in Miss X's tummy, and she could now face the extra pudding. Her jaws ached from the talking and the extended lunch. They were all about to leave the table when one of the panelists leaned across the table, letting her belly engulf a good part of the table, which strained under the weight. "I must just wipe your mouth for you, Miss X. It's covered with chocolate cake, and I don't want you to spoil your chances when you meet the boss. “

She could just see the man in the distance of the huge office at the top of the building. 

"This is the top floor, Miss X. I hear you have been offered the terms of our most junior employee - are you prepared to accept them?" 

She noddded and he smiled.

She woke the next morning and thought she had dreamt it all. She had been surprised, looking in her car mirror as she had driven away from the interview, at the chocolate cake still visible around her mouth and had felt slightly annoyed. She was also surprised now by the time. She had overslept by three hours and was extremely late for work - her old boring job, that is. 

She was immediately disciplined by what had been once a junior member of staff as she had arrived at her old job. 

"You will have to work through lunch to catch up!" she had been told. This was disappointing as she had had nothing to eat all that day, and her little tummy was demanding another rerun of yesterday's gluttonous excess. 

She then had a brainwave which rippled up her body, better than any orgasm she had ever achieved and certainly better than any achieved from her lousy relationships. She tucked her resignation letter back in her bag and went to lunch, posting her acceptance letter to her new job on the way. 

Normally, she went round to the gym for a Perrier water and a work out, but today she fed her new found hunger at a restaurant and spent two hours, in total, out of the office. The sheer thrill of it increased as she was ignored by her boss when she returned. 

_"Oh no_! she thought quioxcetly , "_they might sack me!" _

She was happy that her behavior would lead to a sacking. If she became unreliable she might be given a 3-month payment in lieu and be asked to leave in the week! 

It only took four days, and she was out, but not before she had been given, at her insistence, a glowing reference and six months of pay. 

_What bliss,_ she thought, as she left in her nice car. A whole three weeks off before my new job. _What shall I do? _

Her two-hour lunch breaks for four days had begun to get her in shape for her new job (After all they took two hours for lunch at the new place). She had not seen the inside of a gym since her interview and now had plenty of time to do what she wanted. Surely she could get back to her fitness routine now that she had all day. In three weeks, she could be back to her old self. 

(She had noticed that her clothes were all tight on her, and she was beginning to breathe harder going upstairs in her final days of her old job). 

She pulled up at her local gym and went inside and pulled out her newly laundered work-out gear. It had been two weeks since the sacking, and she had finally decided to get down the gym; quite apart from the fact that she was bored silly, she realized her over indulgence was getting ridiculous. Her two-hour lunch breaks and the thought of a more relaxed peer group at her new job, who did not appear to mind being overweight, had prompted her to lie in bed too late and generally to "slob out." 

The gym near her home was mostly used by hard working people (she remembered when she used to be one of them) and was quite empty, except for some fat housewives. All the same, she was quite alone in the changing room when she tried to get into her old sports gear. She pulled, yanked and jumped trying to get on her old shorts and finally made it. Fortunately her top was fairly loose and hid the tummy tyre, which sat on top of the straining elastic on her shorts. 

She got into the gym, already feeling liked she'd started after her clothes ordeal. She adjusted the speed on the running machine to a half what she used to use and began pounding the rubber track. She felt uncomfortable and did not "flow" anymore as she had done with her old body. She then felt a wave of pointlessness as the silly running machine was "taking her nowhere.” 

After three minutes she pressed the red button to stop, and as the machine ground to a stop, she collapsed on the now stationary track. This was the last moment she ever thought of herself as thin. After all, she had gone down to the gym and had "some sort of workout.” 

She then tried to get up from her collapsing position on the stationary rotating rubber and fell backwards on to the floor. The seams on her shorts had had enough and gave way. Her newly bought large pink under garment could be seen through her old white shorts. 

Her first day at the new job was as good as the interview day in that the food at lunchtime was great. She had blown two months of "sacking money" on a whole wardrobe of smartly tailored expandable garments. 

Miss X was chomping on her daily meal with her friends when the unseen camera panned over. The dark man on the top floor gazed approvingly at the "new" girls, who had been fully conditioned by the gourmet food, who laughed as he heard snippets from the conversations of his new recruits. 

_"MMMM, isn't it lovely?&#65533; --- "I had to get more clothes at the Mall, I can't get into the old ones." --- "this food is divine"--- "I got another pay rise yesterday." --- "I cannot walk around in stilettos anymore." --- "I've burned mine.&#65533; _

_Always nice to look at the new puddings,_ he thought.


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## Observer (Jul 2, 2008)

*Chapter Two*

Miss Y had become an established member of staff immediately on her joining the big accountancy firm (over 400 employees world wide) and was already head of her section after a single year, answering only to the boss on the top floor. 

She remembered how on her first few weeks with the company she had always made a point of running up the five floors to the boss' office instead of using the lifts, but those days had long gone, she thought, as she looked at the clock on the corner of her desk. She remembered that she still had to interview a potential employee, a Miss X, and could see she was already five minutes late. She spent another 10 minutes finishing off the books of one of her most prestigious clients. 

She phoned down to the receptionist to prepare the candidate with a drink from the calorie-laden drinks machine. The drinks machines existed all over the building and dished out high calorie coffee and chocolate addictive drinks which also contained herbs that relaxed its patrons. 

Miss Y lumbered up to the lifts, making her sedate progress to the personnel office to pick up Miss Q, head of personnel and another junior employee who was getting promoted by Miss Y when her old position could be filled. 

The whole company had a very relaxed culture, which nurtured its employees into a certain way of work and encouraged an active social calendar so that all employees mixed with each other after work time. By now the three ladies in the lift on the way to the interview suite were good friends or, at least, had a good professional working relationship. 

On entering the interview suite they could see Miss X had not arrived and sat their ample posteriors on the soft comfortable chairs awaiting her entry, which was almost immediate. They could see her body language was very uncomfortable and decided to let the candidate sit down and drink her coffee. 

Miss Y remembered how slim she had been when she had joined the company and felt a little jealous of the tiny frame poised in the chair. Miss Q had remarked on Miss X's lack of qualifications, but in her favour she had been 
with her current firm since leaving school. 

Miss Y saw Miss X was beginning to be 'hit' by her first delicious drink from the drinks machine and noted that she had relaxed completely before she began. She had not been talking long to the candidate when she was asked about a company gym. She thought to herself, You won't need that here, little Miss X. She let the junior member of staff tell her that the gym had been axed and its space given over to extend the staff restaurant. 

Miss Y remembered the junior member of staff had joined the company about the same time as her and initially they had shared the desire to fight off the effects of the nurturing culture the company was having on the people they worked with. Miss Y had succumbed after only a few weeks when the gym closed whilst the junior member of staff had lasted for a further three months. Eventually she too gave up her fitness drive, as the drinks from the machine and huge meals at lunchtime had left her too tired to go out training after work. 

Miss Y felt proud, taking Miss X to her first company lunch. She had no doubt that she would accept a job offer and could not wait for her to be fully indoctrinated into the company on completing her notice at her old firm. 

_Now for some fun, _thought Miss Y, as she could see Miss X's eyes widen at her first course sitting on the table. The first signs that Miss X was feeling some discomfort from the huge meal came during the second course. 

It was at this point that Miss Y started talking about bonuses, company cars, free medical care and housing benefits. Each new subject seemed to capture Miss X's attention, and Miss Y noted her greedy interest, not to mention the fact that Miss X was no longer showing signs struggling to swallow the gourmet food. In fact, she seemed to be swallowing faster in an effort to keep up with her fellow diners. 

It was an achievement, but Miss X finished her chocolate pudding and could hardly move. She wanted to go to the ladies to relieve herself and loosen the belt and undo her top button on her trousers. 

Miss Y had asked politely if she wanted seconds and enjoyed the fact that Miss X could not say no, indeed accepting the offer with a smile and excusing herself with the head of personnel who needed to go to the toilet as well. 
Miss X managed to guzzle down the last offering of the two-hour lunch break and felt obliged to commend the diners on such good quality food their restaurant offered. 

Miss Y could not resist the temptation to prepare the processed candidate for her brief meeting with the Chief Executive. She had deliberately dipped her napkin in the chocolate sauce that came with the pudding. She pretended to offer to wipe non-existing pudding from the candidate's mouth. This was extremely forward but the candidate offered no retort and let her wipe the sauce all over her mouth. 

The other ladies had grown wise to this and giggled amongst themselves as they got up from the feasting table. The three fat ladies bid little Miss X goodbye, but not before Miss Y had given Miss X her orders to immediately visit the Chief Executive's office at the top floor. 

They left Miss X in the lift and left for their offices on the ground floor. Miss Y ordered the junior member of staff into her office and spoke to her about what was to be her new clerk. I don't want her having any time off for the first six months, and I want her fully indoctrinated into the way we do things round here. 

The junior member of staff was mostly thinking about all the extra money she would get after her sudden promotion, but she told Miss Y that she did not think the candidate would be any problem and that she would soon fit into the routine.


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## Observer (Jul 2, 2008)

*Chapter 3*

Miss X pulled up in her small bright red sports car and looked up at the tall building that was her new place of work. She had enjoyed her three weeks off work and entered the main reception area, wearing one of her nice new outfits. Everything on her was new partly because she wanted to appear as good as it gets on her first days and partly because she could not fit into any of her old clothes because of the 20 extra pounds she was carrying since leaving her old job. 

The Chief Executive, who had a bit of a big brother, they are my property attitude, viewed his new possession as she presented herself at reception through one of the closed circuit cameras he had all over the building. 

Miss X reporting to Miss R, he heard his new recruit say to the security 
guard. 

The security guard told her to make herself comfortable waiting in reception. 

He said, You're a bit early for Miss R, so I suggest you get some 
refreshments while you're waiting. 

She got herself a big cup of coffee from the vending machine and a tea cake from the food machine and went back to reception to await Miss R. The Chief Executive looked at her and approved; he thought he could already see changes from the time he'd seen her on interview day. 

Miss X remembered the delicious taste of the coffee on her last visit and busied herself trying to eat and drink up in time before her new section head arrived. She had got into the habit of having some breakfast in the mornings, for the first time in her adult life, during her idle three week holiday and had a good one before leaving very early in the rush hour that morning. The actual high calorie treats she was enjoying did not make her feel full or uncomfortable; as they would have done once, as they slid their way down to join the pile of food she'd already consumed that day. 

She had been nervous on arriving, but as she drank the delicious drink, she again began to relax and enjoy the sunshine flowing through all the glass of 
the reception entrance. 

Miss R's phone rang by her bed in her company owned apartment. She had recently been promoted and was now part of the more select group who could come into work about an hour after everyone else. It was Miss Q at personnel, Haven't you got up yet, you lazy lump! The junior accounts clerk starts today, and you're supposed to be bringing her in and giving her orders this morning! 

There was always a sort of trial period for supervisors before they actually joined the elite in the company, and although Miss R was a supervisor, she was still viewed as a junior by people technically her same level. 
Miss R quickly showered and preened herself. She could hear one of the supervisors already up cooking breakfast. 

Your usual? said the fat ginger haired girl in the kitchen. 

No, I'm in a hurry. I am going to put the staff canteen out of business later this morning! The fat ginger haired girl in the kitchen took another bite of her thickly buttered bread and marmalade toast. The butter had started to melt and was running over her double chin as she carried on frying the eggs. 

I don't want to waste all this free food, she thought and opened up some more courtesy company groceries for the other occupants in the flat who were still dreaming of their next wage packets and company hospitality. 
Miss X was already on her 2nd coffee when Miss R arrived at 10.00 a.m., looking a little stressed but glad to see Miss X in the expected waiting area. 

She thought Miss X appeared slightly different as people do after an initial interview, but she still remained a little jealous of her figure, which was much nearer the brainwashed mass' idea of perfect. 

Miss R's new office had been moved to the 1st floor, and there was a slight problem when they got to the lifts. They did not appear to be working. Big brother (that chief exec again) had secretly flicked a switch on his control panel as he had viewed the girl's progress through the CCT. 

Oh rats, I remember exactly the same thing happened on my first day. I am afraid we need to take the stairs, Miss X, 

Miss X's fitness level was about 50% of what it had been three short weeks ago, and this was proving only a slight hassle compared to poor young but fat Miss R. 

Miss X. No need to run up the stairs; we do things in a more sedate careful way here! 

The other juniors busied themselves as Miss R and Miss X entered the room for the usual round of introductions that every new member of staff enjoys on their first day. The others in the office were a mixed lot; some had just left college or were a bit older. There was a couple of rather subservient older looking men who were in no way appealing to Miss X, who was glad - the last thing she wanted was another relationship at work. 
Although the office was open plan, the juniors were partitioned off from one another but could see over the partitions when they stood up. 

Miss X was shown her humble but cosy little workspace and the pile of files that sat on her desk. Miss R had been well briefed to turn the new girl into a hard worker, and she left Miss X with piles of reading to do on all the minor accounts put before her. Miss X was glad to be back at work and worked away at her new tasks. She made regular trips to the delicious drinks machine and was snacking on the contents of the vending machines that were readily available. 

No time for lunch, thought the still petite Miss X, but this routine came to an end when Miss R popped round to pick her up for lunch. You're late; everyone else has already gone to lunch! Miss X had not realized lunch was mandatory, so she hurried after Miss R, who was not difficult to catch. 

Everyone was around Miss R's table, but Miss X could see her place still had the first course on it where as all the others had nearly finished theirs. Miss R watched with pleasure as the new clerk started swallowing the calorie-filled savouries without chewing, so that she could catch up for the second course. 

She looks like she's fitting in very well, thought Miss R. The waiters came round and collected all the plates, including Miss X's, who had just managed to gobble down her last savoury. 

It was in the middle of the second course that she was told that the coming weekend was a company social evening and that everyone was (had to) attend. 

It's great, said the young impressionable girl next to her, I have only been to one, but it's a chance to share the Chief Executive's mansion for the weekend. It's mainly for the newcomers, like I was last time, said the girl. 
Miss X's social life was almost reduced to zero as she had severed all links with her old workmates. She looked forward to it with anticipation. Miss X was quite pleased with herself that she finished the 3rd course without a struggle, which would have been embarrassing because everybody else seemed to be managing fine. Miss R had been taking notes about Miss X because she had to report to her floor manager Miss Y about the new recruit. 

Later, Miss R appeared in front of Miss Y. Miss Y told her to, Take the load off and sit down. 

Miss Y said to Miss R, Are you still wearing stilettos? You'd find it more comfortable with flat soles, Miss R. 

Miss R grunted a defeated, Yes. 

Well, she went on, what have you got to tell me about little Miss beauty queen (Miss X)? 
Miss R was ready to enjoy scoring brownie points with Miss Y and join the real elite by distancing herself from the juniors. Both ladies knew they were jealous as hell of Miss X. Miss R took a chocolate from the tray on Miss Y's desk and stuffed it into her face; she still had not caught up after missing breakfast. 
Well, I notice she has already becoming a more rounded individual. Both ladies laughed. 
 I had to walk up the stairs with her this morning and could not keep up with her, said Miss R, but I don't think that's going to last long! 
Miss Y concluded the meeting, I can't wait to see her this weekend at the company social evening. 

The whole week shot by, and Miss X was growing a little more tired every day as she drove home. She was always the last to leave with all the extra work Miss R was giving her. She looked up to Miss R, however, as someone helping her. Friday arrived, and Miss X, who was falling asleep at her desk was suddenly awakened. 

Miss R was beginning to feel a little sympathy for her and saw from behind that she was just about ready for the company social evening. 

She poked Miss X on the shoulder, who was surprised to see Miss R, who normally went home at four in the afternoon. You've forgotten, haven't you! 

Miss X listed all the clients she had been reading about that day, but Miss R said No stupid, the company social evening. 
Miss R explained the rules. 

It's simple, she said, you leave your car in the car park all weekend and get on the coach like everyone else. Then when you get to the Mansion you change out of your work clothes into 'hospitality wear' and pick your laundered clothes up on Monday morning, and the coach takes you back to work. 

Miss X had not realized the whole weekend would be a whole social thing, and she was glad to get away from the drudgery of work. Once at the Mansion, she was shown into a little bedroom as were all the other guests, and she relaxed on the bed, as she was tired after a hard week and hours of commuting on the road. 

She realized that at one time this must have been a very grand house, and she also realized she was probably sleeping in one of - what previously would have been - servants quarters. She stripped off her clothes, which were pinching her all over. She noticed that one of the buttons had popped off her blouse, and the zip on her skirt was slightly broken. 

She had been a size 8 just 4 weeks ago, but now she was struggling getting into her new size 12 clothes. She kept promising herself to go back to the gym in the evenings, but she was worried about the bitchy remarks she had got the last time she had gone down to the gym. If she once had the will power to get fit in an office with a lunchtime gym, she did not have it now and normally collapsed in front of the TV after every night's long drive home from work. 

She stepped into the warm bath water and heard her clothes collected that she had left outside the door. She was surprised when she opened the clothes cupboard as its contents consisted of a maid's uniform. 

Oh, it must be a theme weekend, she thought and slipped into the good quality fabric. She felt very comfortable in the maid's uniform and looked at herself in the mirror as she tied the old fashioned hat to her hair. 

The clothes must be elasticised in some way as they seem such a perfect fit, she thought. 

Deep inside the fabric, there was a little label which said 14. There was a knock at her door at 8. It was Miss R who wore a formal dress of someone who was in charge of maids. She asked Miss X how she was enjoying herself and said she had to go upstairs and serve drinks and food, but after that they would be playing the house games and everyone joins in. 
Upstairs, Miss X stood next to the young impressionable girl who had mentioned the weekend event on her first day. They both dished out sherry to more senior members of the establishment as they passed them in the Grand hall entrance. 

Later on after drinks were served, all the new maids were led into the main dining room and politely asked to sit down around the table where the bosses and Chief Executive had been dining. There were about 10 maids, like Miss X, all laughing and joking before the Chief Executive came in to address them. 
He was the man Miss X last saw on the day of her interview, and she was pleased to see him mixing with the likes of them. About 40, he wore a smart smoking jacket and exuded power amongst those about him. 

Welcome to my newest staff. Every month the 10 newest staff have to undergo this most pleasant ordeal for which the winner will take away a $100 prize. To the three newest, who must think we are all mad, the objective is to finish the cream buns and the coca cola as quickly as possible, and to make your life even more difficult, you have to do it with your hands behind your back! 

Then 10 waiters appeared with what looked like small pig's troughs and placed them in front of the excited individuals. Miss X was determined to make a good impression, so the moment the Chief Executive dropped his hanky, she sat on her hands and dipped her face in the cakes that had to be consumed. 

She could feel the cream and the cake being forced up her nose as she pushed harder into the heavy trough trying to finish the challenge. Her jaws began to ache, as the undigested cake would not move. She then lifted her cream-covered face to swallow the cola in the hope that it would wash the cake down, but it was to no avail as a winner had been decided, and the supervisors cheered as the young impressionable girl collected her $100 prize. 

Miss X felt jealous as the chubby girl walked up and down deciding on a prize. She picked a new CD Rom player and made a short speech, which was met by a round of applause. Later she told Miss X the trick was not to drink the cola until the end and to chew the cake until you could swallow. Miss X then let out a large belch, and they both laughed. 

Sunday morning and the smell of freshly cooked bread, fried eggs and bacon wafted under Miss X's nose. 

She was wearing the period dress nightclothes as she came down to breakfast with the others. A picture of the executive was on the wall, but the more senior individuals ate upstairs. The day was spent in the grounds of the great estate; Miss X had to do a bit of fetching and carrying for her superiors, but generally she was free to roam where she liked. 

Monday morning the fun was over. Miss X had joined a work hard/play hard regime, and she was full of energy when she was awakened in the same pleasant way as the previous morning. 

This time, though, her newly laundered Friday clothes were ready to hit the office with her inside them. Well, that was the original plan, but a size 14 does not fit very well in a size 12. She jumped; she shoved; she pulled and with great effort she forced herself into the skirt and blouse  that had only loosely held on to a narrower size 12 only two weeks previously. 

She also felt awkward in her stiletto heels on the marble stairs; heading downstairs to breakfast, they seemed to be digging into her heels. She momentarily forgot the challenge her clothes were giving her, as she became a willing participant in the consumption of eggs, fried potatoes, sausages and mushrooms - not to mention that delicious coffee that came out of the machines at work. 

When she got up to leave with the others, she felt a bit more comfortable in her clothes, but the fact was her skirt had split its seams, and her 14 sized body had made the size 12 clothes fit. She was showing her underwear again. Fortunately, she did not notice, and neither did anyone else except Miss R who was supposed to be keeping an eye on her. 

They all got to work on time for a change as they got off the coach. The lifts were not working again, so Miss R made up the rear as she struggled to keep up with the next lightest in her office. Looking up the stairs right to the top, the expected leader was Miss X, but unlike last Monday she was slowing down and almost stopping at the top. 

Later, when summoned to Miss Y's office, Miss R whispered in Miss Y's ear and told her about the progress of Miss X. The fact is, Miss R, she still looks like a stick insect around here, and she gets a hell of a lot more attention from the male staff as a result. On top of that, she is probably the most attractive looking girl in the office, which is still causing disruption and it is bad for moral. I want her given a 'double dose' of company hospitality, if you get my drift. 

Oh, don't worry about Miss X, Miss Y; she is already getting very greedy, and I'm going to fit her up with one of the boys to do a nice little job on her. When he's finished, we are going to have to install our ex-Miss Universe on the ground floor, as the lift wont take the strain! Miss Y laughed. 

Nice job, Miss R. We need to finish her off now, so that we can start her meeting clients and getting her on a supervisor course.


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## Observer (Jul 2, 2008)

*Chapter 4*

Miss X pulled up at her flat in her nice red sports car that Monday evening; she had had a very nice day at work, having been with her new friends over the weekend at the Chief Executive's mansion. She still sported a good figure in her expensively cut business suit and still managed to jog up the steps to her expensive condo on the top floor despite the 25 extra pounds she carried from just four weeks of her new unhealthy life style. 

The grey storm clouds of fate were conspiring against Miss X. While her previous 23 years had forced her into being a super fit slim young lady, now things were changing. Now she was under the (mostly) unseen influence of the Chief Executive and his control aspirations over his staff. 

The “Chief” had become rich quick as a direct result of his girlfriend. Her father was a rich oil baron who'd given the Chief Executive the responsibility of looking after the accounts for his company. The Chief Executive had had to move “up market” into better offices to support his newfound fortune. 

His girlfriend had surprised her sisters because of how fat she had gotten since going out with the Chief Executive; the girl had been gradually induced into a much larger calorie intake, and the Chief Executive had also secretly finished her sports career as he had booked restaurants and weekends away when she was supposed to either be training or running for the state athletics team. He had even hidden her sports equipment when she needed it. Eventually, his girlfriend had lost her place in the athletics team and lost interest after being beaten in several races by schoolgirls. 

The “Chief” also conversed with other underhand “fatten your girlfriend” type people on the Internet and put all the new tricks he discovered on his “guinea pig.” Unabashed by the success of his experiments, he proceeded to “cook up” new ideas for the senior members of his company and a few others. The senior members were all lady accountants, so although Miss X was referred to as “junior,” she was not far from the top of the pyramid as she was on top of the “support” staff. 

Despite the dangers of actually meeting unknown blokes from the Internet, the “Chief” had the resources to handle this “recruitment” drive of these types separating the good from the bad. The good ones miraculously obtained positions as “support” staff in his company - although these guys had no idea it was their association with the “Chief” on the web that had resulted in the good fortune of being hired. This “carry on” had resulted in one boardroom marriage and several relationships for the senior members of the staff. 

It was not the Chief, however, that finally lumbered Miss X with her first “fatten your girlfriend” boyfriend. Miss Y, the floor manager, had been in deep conversation with Miss R, Miss X's section leader. Both had been very jealous of Miss X from the day they had met her at the interview. 

“There she is again, skipping out to her flash little sport's car,” Miss Y was pointing out the window of her office for Miss R's benefit. 

“I let her go home early to smarten up for tonight's party at the corporate flat,” said Miss R. 

Miss X got home hours earlier than normal and ran up all the stairs to her condo. 

Gosh, that's not getting any easier, she thought. She showered and went to find some clothes to wear at the party. Again, the 25 lbs she had gained in the last 4 weeks made the “party clothes hunt” difficult. She dug out some nice clobber but had to leave the skirt unbuttoned at the top and cover this with a shirt. She dug an extra hole in her belt, so she could use it to stop the opened skirt sliding down her legs in the middle of the dance floor. 

In less than half an hour Miss X was ignoring the speed limit on the freeway heading back to work - or at least the corporate flats that were located just a block away. 

Miss R greeted her newfound “friend” at the door. 

“Wow, look at the size of this place,” Miss X said. Miss R told her about the free accommodation and groceries. Needless to say, Miss X was immediately feeling jealous. “

Is there a chance that I might be offered one at any time?” said Miss X. Miss R said that the facilities were only currently available for supervisors but noted the greedy junior's attitude for her next meeting with Miss Y. 
There seemed to be so much interest in her at the party. She was the thinnest there, despite her most recent gluttonous excesses. She danced with many partners that night and was filled with artificial confidence that “she was far more attractive” than all the others. The artificial confidence was to some degree in all ladies there, as society had brainwashed them into the old “thin” is beautiful thing. 

Miss R looked on with Miss Y and smiled, “Like a lamb to the slaughter, I think” 

The new chef stood in the corner of the big flat; he had finally hit a lucky streak when he had gone gambling with the guy he met on the net. Not only had he met this guy, but he had got him his first chef's job at this fantastic establishment. Not only were the wages great, but the women were all an absolute knockout. He had been a little disappointed that all the ladies were paired off. He watched them guzzle at some of the food he had brought along and was amazed the way they piled the plates high and licked them dry. 

He was surprised to see one of these ladies wobble over and introduce 
herself. 

“I wanted you to come and join us when you brought the food,” she said. “I see you are on your own, and I wanted to introduce you to another lady who had only been at the company a bit longer than you”. 

“Miss X meet Peter; he has only been here for two days, but I believe he cooks fantastic food.” Miss R left Miss X to it after a while.

“I have prepared all the food here. Is it ok?” (The chef had only just obtained his chefs credentials, and he was anxious to find out if his food was really good enough in real life.) 

“I don't know because I have only tasted the pastries,” said Miss X. 

“Please can you try the quiche and the chicken?” In the end, Miss X came back with two plates piled high, as she was worried that she better have a taste of everything. 

Miss X was to busy trying to allay the young chef's worries and gobbled the food, remarking on each mouth full. “That's nice,” “these are nice,” and the compliments continued. Later on, she had to allay the chef's fears about the gateaux several times. 

Any aspirations that Miss X had to start a fitness drive fell by the roadside again as she had her fill and picked up a new boyfriend. They did not leave together but agreed to meet the next evening. Miss X said goodbye to Miss R, who was rooting for information. 

”What did you think of Peter?” said Miss R. 

Miss X said she was looking forward to her next meeting. Miss R saw the remnants of chocolate gateaux around Miss X's mouth, but she failed to tell her. Miss X bid others goodnight and hurried home. Most of the other guests were drunk, and although she was sober she had had a good evening. When she got home, she threw her gym membership renewal in the bin - _no time for any running machines anymore_, she thought. _I have got a top job, a booming social life and probably a new boyfriend. _

Peter moved into Miss X's two weeks later. Miss X was normally too tired in the evening when she got home and normally did not eat much as she collapsed into the chair in front of the telly. 

This changed when Peter moved in, as he used to finish his shift in the afternoon and was trying out different dishes and treats on Miss X when she got home. Inside Miss X catastrophic changes were happening to her body as her metabolism slowed down. There was no respite from her new sedate life style and no gap between her gluttonous meals and snacks. Each night she went to bed, her tummy was now full of extremely high calorie food. The pangs of hunger were also growing in the morning, and Peter always prepared a “goody bag” for her journey into work in her smart red sports car. 

_I wonder what's in there today_? she thought as she put her hand into the bag. The crumbs fell onto her business suits as she munched, chewed and swallowed the contents of her goody bag on the way to work every morning. 

Peter also started showing his new girlfriend his abilities as an artist, which greatly aroused Miss X's curiosity. 

Peter was a sculptor of some skill and started asking Miss X to model for him as he wanted to build a life-sized model of her out of wax. A little strange, though, she thought, as she expected him to ask her to relax on the couch instead of just standing there. Miss X got home late one evening, as she had to buy herself a new set of clothes on the way home. 

Miss X had started buying clothes a size bigger than she needed and not buying so many as she was now becoming quite plump and was showing signs of a double chin. 

“Is my food ready? I could eat a horse.” 

Peter took her into the back bedroom, which also doubled as his artist's studio. “It is nearly ready. Look at the sculpture of you - it is finished - while I am finishing meal preparation.” 

Miss X was hungry, and her grumbling tummy twisted her thoughts. She was limping a bit because her stilettos were very uncomfortable. She kicked them off and began to inspect the sculpture. She was still out of breath from the stairs leading to the condo. She could just about walk up them now without stopping. 

_Gone are the days when I'd run up those stairs,_ she thought. There was a long mirror in the corner, and she compared her image in it with the sculpture. The first thing she noticed was the lack of a double chin on the art but clearly visible on the real thing. The sculpture was completely naked except for the red stilettos the dummy was sitting in (wax). “I wondered where those had gone.” 

She remembered those were the ones she had used at her job interview 6 weeks ago. 

Peter came in carrying a dish with a wonderful aroma. She forgot about the completed sculpture and greedily stuffed her face. 

“Aren't you joining me?” 

Peter declined and asked to go for a spin in her sports car while she was eating. Peter loved sports cars but had never had the money to pay for one. All he had was one of those little English mini cars. 

My journey to work at the company staff restaurant would be a lot more fun in this, he thought as he floored the accelerator going down the freeway. 
Peter came home after 20 minutes of motorway madness and heard his girlfriend still eating away in the back room. This did not surprise him as he cooked her massive meals, which took a long time to consume, even with the large utensils he had deliberately bought. 

Miss X heard him come in “I have finished Peter, what is for desert?” 

“Chocolate gateaux,” came the reply. 

“Dessert” had taken on a completely new meaning in this relationship, in that it was one of times Peter applied his manhood to the once petite little girl. 
In came the gateaux and by now the routine of the evening meal was well under way. Peter said, “So you have finished it all up!” 

Miss X sat there; her white blouse was a mess. It was too tight for her, and a couple of buttons had come of it because they had given up the task of holding back the ever-advancing flesh. Also, gravy from the dinner had escaped Miss X's slobbering mouth and stuck to the blouse and stained the trousers of the business suit she was sitting in. 

He put the whole gateaux into a large bowl on the floor at the front of her, and Miss X went on all fours and started licking the icing and taking her first mouthfuls. Normally Miss X would start to roll her trousers down over her big fleshy buttocks, but this time her trousers, which were under great strain split along the seams and provided even more erotic enjoyment for her boyfriend. The once petite Miss X had once been a size eight, but that had been three long calorie filled months ago. She had gained 100 lbs since then and effectively doubled her weight. A well-rounded English size 22 she was now, and the chef was well on the way to finishing the job. 

Miss R watched Miss X struggle out of her bright red sports car one morning. 

Six months ago Miss X would have swung her legs out and would be out in a second. Now she seemed to be having trouble getting her legs round. When she did she had to hold the doorframe and pull herself up. As she did this, the car's suspension came up with her. 

Peter applied himself to finishing the job as he had already started seeing one of the new recruits working in the same section as fat Miss X. It was time to blow Miss X's little brain and complete her transformation. That evening he arrived home early for the finishing act of their relationship. He heard Miss X arrive in the car park below. She was now having great difficulty getting out of her little red sports car as she could hardly fit behind the steering wheel. He saw her make it out of the vehicle and shut the door. He knew he had five minutes, as this was how long it took for his lady to climb the stairs to the condo. 

He wanted everything perfect for his library of films. On his videotapes he had a girl on each and the story always ended the same way. Tonight was Miss X's chance for her starring role. 

Miss X arrived (at last) and immediately demanded dinner. “Remember the 
sculpture, dear,” said Peter. “Go and have a look.” 

Our fat Miss X looked on with a mixture of emotions in the back room that doubled as a studio. There was Miss X as she looked 6 months ago. All the makeup was on and her hair was the way it was then and the dummy was completely dressed. Curiously enough it looked like the clothes she distantly remembered she had worn for her interview. Curiously the dummy was standing in a metal tray and all the windows were open. Fat Miss X failed to spot the camera set up for auto recording. 

She looked at herself in the long mirror next to the dummy. She appeared shorter than she had done 6 months ago and realized that was because the dummy was wearing stilettos where as she was wearing flat slipper like shoes with no heel. Also in the mirror was this 325 lb size 38 lard-arse in a nicely tailored business suit (her latest). She could not fit completely in the long mirror. When she could see her bum, her breasts and tummy disappeared out of sight in the mirror. 

Peter wheeled in a meal for two for a change and as usual, Miss X was more interested in “stuffing” than anything else. Peter filled Miss X with drink, more so than usual, and helped her up from the table to her chair by the dummy.

“What's this?” said Miss X. “Where is my pud?” She gurgled. 

Peter thought it was time for the show to begin, so he started, “Six months ago you were horribly undernourished with low esteem and now we are here to celebrate your successful job and the new you.” 

Miss X liked the show so far as it was all about her, but she could not understand the significance of the out of date life sized model. 

Peter got the matches out and lit the little wick at the back of the model. Initially the model looked unspoilt as the slow burning wax at the back only gradually damaged the clothing that was out of sight. 

“This is going to take some minutes,” as Peter started his camera to complete his latest archive. 

Peter passed a bowl of truffles to the new Miss X, who sat silently chewing the truffles and occasionally laughing at the unexpected show. First thing that happened was the small Gucci bag around the old Miss X's shoulder fell on the floor burning; the strap had been burnt through and the little bag, covered in wet wax, continued disintegrating in the metal tray. 

“I did not like that little bag, anyway,” said Miss X. 

“Could not fit to much candy in that, could you” Flames could clearly be seen licking around the shoulder of the smart blazer that Miss X had worn at the interview six short months ago. At this point the whole arm began to melt and slopped to the floor next to the disintegrated bag. 

The figure still retained some dignity, as only a little flame could be seen dancing around the edge of the remaining part of the blazer. The trousers were the next to go and threw flames up near the face and hair as they disintegrated. Some of the makeup was starting to boil on the model's face as the hair began to burn, also. By now, Miss X was clapping and cheering as she saw the face begin to lose its features. Just before the wax tumbled over, she saw one of the glass eyes fall out of its socket. 

She was excited past her wildest dreams. As Peter entered the mound of fat before him, she could still see remnants burning in front of her. The remains of the wig sizzled as the wet burning wax engulfed it. She saw a large part of the blouse with its pretty pattern disappear in the remains. Finally the red stilettos remained, but these were to become a blazing mess as they were both filled with hot wax. 

Miss X woke up in the corporate flat she shared with the other supervisors. She had long since been dumped by her boyfriend and had sold him the sports car at a knockdown price. All that was wrong with it was the broken springs in the driver's seat, but the lady thought that reduced the price of the car by a half. She had also got the boyfriend's English mini. This had seats that went back a long way, so it was still possible for her to get into it. 

She lay still in bed and planned to have a little kip before getting into work at ten but failed as usual, as the fat ginger haired supervisor started frying in the kitchen. She hurriedly got up, showered and changed into her work clothes. 

Silk shirts have replaced synthetic fabrics and leather has replaced cheap plastic, she thought as she finished her ensemble and wobbled off to get her morning hit of fat. 

The Chief eyed his senior personnel around the table. 

“What are the issues?” he said. Miss X stuck up her podgy little hand. The fattest member did not bother to rise. 

“I have secured the business, just yesterday, of SillyConChip Limited, sir.” 

The chief eyed the beauties around the table and felt he had a license to print money; he had the formula to win them much more business, and he saw no reason why further “expansions” should not be carried out. 

All around the table applauded Miss X, who was excused from standing as she smiled up at her colleagues.


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## cohen (Sep 11, 2013)

very bad, how this not be titled XWG?
XWG
XWG
XWG
XWG
XWG


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## Britt Reid (Sep 11, 2013)

The clariry in this talesn't the best, but I have to agree. Going to size 38 s/b ~XWG

I suspect what happened was that in retrievibg the corrupted file the old WG room labels, which early on were niot as nuanced as today, simply carried over.


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