elroycohen
Steampunk Psycho
~BBW (Multiple), ~BHM, Eating, ~~WG - A diner with a mysterious owner serves irresistible comfort food that makes everyone clean their plate!
Chapter One - INTRO
Austin’s Diner had been in business on a busy street corner in the heart of downtown Houston since the mid seventies. Until five years ago, however, it had been only moderately successful at its best, and was starting to lose money. Then a new owner took over and quickly turned the place around completely. The name was kept, but the small, nearly unnoticeable sign in the window was replaced with a large three-dimensional sign hanging out over the entrance.
Inside, the décor was revamped as a retro 50s style diner, from the black and white checkerboard floor to the bright red vinyl on the seats and booths. The new owner took over as cook, completely redoing the entire menu. Attractive, friendly waitresses were hired to serve patrons. The formula, as simple as it was, worked amazingly well. Before long the once faltering business was turned into a huge success.
In a very short period of time it became known for its large portions of amazing food and friendly atmosphere. It soon had crowds of devoted regulars as well as tourists from all over the country filling up the booths, tables and counter almost around the clock. On the surface it seemed like a typical classic American eatery that had managed to find its niche. But there were a few things about Austin’s Diner that made it quite different from typical diners.
The owner himself was a bit of a mystery. In appearance, he was a very handsome, tall man, with a dark complexion. He appeared slender, with shaggy black and gray hair and piercing blue eyes. He usually sported a couple days' worth of stubble, which made it hard to judge his age. Some people guessed he was in his mid-thirties while others said he had to be well into his forties. Instead of putting his own name on the front of the diner, he not only kept the existing name, he even adopted it as his own.
Soon everyone knew him only as Austin, and as time passed few people remembered his real name, if anyone had known it at all. As the diner’s only cook, Austin managed to be seen every day by throngs of customers and at the same time seemed very reclusive. He rarely came out from the kitchen into the dining area. He seemed friendly enough at a distance; he would acknowledge regulars with a wave through the pass-through if they called out to him, but that was about it. He rarely even said much to most of his staff; he let his head waitress manage them and he kept to the cooking.
No one really knew what he had done before he bought the diner. It was even less clear where he got the money to buy it with. With so little known about the man, rumors began to spread about him and his past. People said he never left the diner, and that he was a fierce perfectionist who refused to hire another cook, and that he only slept in the back office during slow periods. Some said he was once a highly respected chef from New York who had a breakdown and bought the diner to get a fresh start. Others thought he was in the witness protection program. Neither Austin nor his employees would ever address the rumors directly, which ended up being good for business, as it gave people something to talk about.
Now if the diner’s owner was a bit of an enigma who piqued people's interest and brought them to the diner, the food served there was nothing short of legendary and kept the people coming back. Meals were served in astronomical portions. They were piled high on large plates that were completely hidden by the rich comfort foods overflowing the edges. First-timers to the diner would always be amazed and commented how they would be able to eat for days.
That was where the legendary part comes in, however. In the time since the diner had been opened, nobody had ever taken any food home, or even left any on their plate. Once a diner took their first bite, it was like they became possessed. They seemed compelled to finish everything that had been set in front of them, even if it meant stuffing themselves beyond their normal limits. This was true regardless of whether it was a burly football player type or a tiny little waif of a woman.
And these ridiculously sized meals that were devoured in their entirety were not the trendy, health conscious fare served at other establishments. Entrees were either greasy, high calorie, high fat, high sugar, deep fried, or all of the above. It was not unusual to see patrons leaning back in a chair, gingerly rubbing their distended bellies, with their pants unfastened after a meal. Their eyes would glaze over as the waitress would tell them about the infamous dessert menu, which, despite the uncomfortable tautness of their stomachs, customers were seemingly unable to resist. Out-of-Towners would come for one meal and would end up returning for every meal they ate while on their trip.
While tourists and business travelers would leave town with indigestion and their clothes fitting tighter than when they arrived, the diner’s regular patrons had a more noticeable consequence of indulging at the diner. The immense portions of rich high-calorie food eaten on a regular basis would quickly show up on their waistline.
Three young ladies, who worked as tellers at a nearby bank, were lunch regulars over the past three years. They would only miss for vacations and sick days. Their lunch choice was the same every day, the taco salad - a tortilla bowl so large it resembled a bucket, filled to the top with a mixture of meat, beans and cheese (absolutely no lettuce), and topped off with a huge scoop of sour cream.
All three women would polish off the meal in less than half an hour to make sure they had time for dessert. For that they would each get a different dish, so they could trade bites off each other’s enormous sweet treat. By the time they finished, they had each consumed more calories than the average person ate in two days, and they had done so happily chatting with each other the whole time.
After three years of lunches this gluttonous, the women were each now sixty to seventy pounds heavier. The group now struggled to fit into their favorite booth together. Two of the women were quite top heavy and had to suck in their guts to slide into place. Once they exhaled, the edge of the table deeply creased their doughy midsections. The third teller always sat opposite her friends because her wide hips and prominent saddlebags took up more than half the bench once the cellulite spread out as she sat.
Despite the trios’ rather rapid transformation from "normal sized," to "plump," to "fat," the ladies never once thought of discontinuing their lunches at the diner.
Another notable regular was the neighborhood’s policeman. He had started getting a cinnamon roll from the diner since the day Austin had reopened the place. The roll more closely resembled a small cake than an actual roll. It was soft and gooey and drenched in rich, creamy icing. No matter how busy the officer was he always made sure to finish his roll. Most days he would also make it back to the diner for his lunch as well.
Of course, the staggering amount of calories that came with his meal choices had quite an effect upon the man’s body. His once broad shoulders now looked downright narrow compared to his sixty-eight inch waist. His silhouette looked even bigger as a result of his bulletproof vest not being able to properly accommodate his large, sagging man-boobs. But like the bank tellers, no matter how much his weight increased, the officer never once even considered not eating at Austin’s Diner.
Austin’s wait staff was certainly not immune to the seemingly irresistible food they served. The employees were exposed to the diet-busting meals for eight- to twelve-hour shifts with two breaks and lunch rather than just a meal or two, and they got to eat as much as they wanted for free. When a new employee would start, all the full-time girls would make bets on what size uniform shorts the rookie would be wearing when they left.
A majority of the wait staff were usually students working during the summer or taking a semester off to earn money, so most were only around for three or four months. But with the huge meals and constant snacking, some would go up as many as four sizes before they quit.
The full-timers were the ones whose transformations were truly astonishing. Two in particular had been with the eatery for quite a while.
Angel had been a waitress at Austin’s for over two and a half years now. She was a young, hard-working girl who had wanted a break from student life after high school. When she had started at Austin’s, she had a petite little frame, with a curvy, yet firm, backside, which she attributed to her half-Mexican heritage.
However, her strong sweet tooth worked against her when she took her breaks, as she was never seen seated without a slice of one of the many varieties of pie in front of her. Of course, a slice at Austin’s diner amounted to a quarter of a pie so thick it looked like two pies stacked on top of each other. Most types of pie came with three huge scoops of ice cream on top.
With this type of repeated indulgence it was not long before Angel’s curvy little bottom became a large mass of quivering cellulite. After her hips and ass spread to monumental proportions, her torso began storing excess fat. Her once flat little tummy grew into a large pouch that was usually creased by the waistline of her shorts, giving her an upper and lower belly. Her breasts swelled from her former perky little A cups to floppy C’s. Her upper arms turned soft and flabby, looking very matronly.
In her time at Austin’s, she had gone from 127 to 251 pounds. Despite her rise to obesity, she was as friendly and good spirited as the day she was hired. She frequently flirted with customers and most often got flirted with right back. Maybe because, despite the two extra chins and cheeks that looked like they were stuffed with marshmallows, she had still kept her exotic suntanned skin soft and smooth looking. Her long silky black hair she pulled back into a cute ponytail when she worked.
A sharp contrast to Angel’s ethnic heritage and innocent youth was Bonnie. She was a tough-as-nails Texan, in her late thirties. Being a waitress had been all she had ever done. Bonnie had been Austin’s first hire when he bought the diner. As a result she seemed to have a connection with him that none of the other girls had. Most of the girls would go through Bonnie, as the unofficial head waitress, if they needed to ask Austin something. She would often meet with him back in the office with the door closed. She would claim it was to discuss scheduling, but rumors quickly spread that Bonnie and Austin were an item, a claim that neither of the two would directly deny.
When Bonnie started at the diner, she definitely turned heads. Standing a rather imposing 5’ 10” and possessing a pair of 42EE breasts, she would often get doubletakes from a distance by men ten years younger than her. However, her weathered skin with years of sun damage, and a noticeable beer gut from even more years of hard drinking, gave away her age when they got closer.
Five years of eating the majority of her meals at the diner had added a staggering amount of weight to the rugged country girl’s body. She had ballooned from a solid 183 pounds to a sumo-like 348 pounds. Her extra weight had been distributed pretty evenly over her figure. Her tan legs resembled thick tree trunks; pockets of cellulite along with spider webs of varicose veins surrounded her thighs and hung down over her knees. Her solid calves were as big around as her thighs used to be. Her constantly swollen feet were usually stuffed into a pair of slip-on shoes with thick soles that did their best to distribute her massive weight.
Her hips and buttocks were comprised of so many lumps and blobs of fat that they had lost all shape, part of which was due to Bonnie’s immense belly apron and love handles weighing down heavily on them. The rolls of blubber and gobs of lard-filled skin that made up her midsection all kind of lumped together under her supersized t-shirts. Her once proud boobs were now cumbersome, sagging udders that flopped around her torso like they had a mind of their own, despite an expensive, custom-fitted 64MM bra that only seemed to accomplish making her breasts sweat profusely and caused her abundant back fat to bunch up around the strap. Her constantly wobbling arms resembled wet bags of cement, and stuck almost straight out to her sides when she stood due to the deposits of blubber that had built up under her arms.
Bonnie’s face was completely unrecognizable from five years ago. She had added chin after chin until now it had melted into one big piece of flesh that hid her neck completely and came up around the sides of her face.
Bonnie’s immense girth had affected her mobility in certain ways. She was unable to bend over without bracing herself, and most doorways posed a problem for her wide mass to fit through. For the most part, however, she carried her weight remarkably well for someone who was forced to stand with her feet more than shoulder width apart, and who could not even see those feet, for that matter. She managed to continue to waitress, although she definitely felt the strain of carrying all that excess weight at the end of the day.
Through it all, Bonnie never regretted her decision to work at Austin’s and possessed quite a fierce loyalty to the man who employed her and who, arguably, was responsible for her current bloated form.
Now, however strange the situation sounds to the average person, to the people who worked and ate at Austin’s Diner this was just part of everyday life. This "everyday life" continued on for quite some time. It was right after the five-year anniversary of the diner that some really unusual things started happening.
Story continued in post 4 of this thread
Austin’s Diner
Chapters 1 - 14
By Elroy Cohen
Chapters 1 - 14
By Elroy Cohen
Chapter One - INTRO
Austin’s Diner had been in business on a busy street corner in the heart of downtown Houston since the mid seventies. Until five years ago, however, it had been only moderately successful at its best, and was starting to lose money. Then a new owner took over and quickly turned the place around completely. The name was kept, but the small, nearly unnoticeable sign in the window was replaced with a large three-dimensional sign hanging out over the entrance.
Inside, the décor was revamped as a retro 50s style diner, from the black and white checkerboard floor to the bright red vinyl on the seats and booths. The new owner took over as cook, completely redoing the entire menu. Attractive, friendly waitresses were hired to serve patrons. The formula, as simple as it was, worked amazingly well. Before long the once faltering business was turned into a huge success.
In a very short period of time it became known for its large portions of amazing food and friendly atmosphere. It soon had crowds of devoted regulars as well as tourists from all over the country filling up the booths, tables and counter almost around the clock. On the surface it seemed like a typical classic American eatery that had managed to find its niche. But there were a few things about Austin’s Diner that made it quite different from typical diners.
The owner himself was a bit of a mystery. In appearance, he was a very handsome, tall man, with a dark complexion. He appeared slender, with shaggy black and gray hair and piercing blue eyes. He usually sported a couple days' worth of stubble, which made it hard to judge his age. Some people guessed he was in his mid-thirties while others said he had to be well into his forties. Instead of putting his own name on the front of the diner, he not only kept the existing name, he even adopted it as his own.
Soon everyone knew him only as Austin, and as time passed few people remembered his real name, if anyone had known it at all. As the diner’s only cook, Austin managed to be seen every day by throngs of customers and at the same time seemed very reclusive. He rarely came out from the kitchen into the dining area. He seemed friendly enough at a distance; he would acknowledge regulars with a wave through the pass-through if they called out to him, but that was about it. He rarely even said much to most of his staff; he let his head waitress manage them and he kept to the cooking.
No one really knew what he had done before he bought the diner. It was even less clear where he got the money to buy it with. With so little known about the man, rumors began to spread about him and his past. People said he never left the diner, and that he was a fierce perfectionist who refused to hire another cook, and that he only slept in the back office during slow periods. Some said he was once a highly respected chef from New York who had a breakdown and bought the diner to get a fresh start. Others thought he was in the witness protection program. Neither Austin nor his employees would ever address the rumors directly, which ended up being good for business, as it gave people something to talk about.
Now if the diner’s owner was a bit of an enigma who piqued people's interest and brought them to the diner, the food served there was nothing short of legendary and kept the people coming back. Meals were served in astronomical portions. They were piled high on large plates that were completely hidden by the rich comfort foods overflowing the edges. First-timers to the diner would always be amazed and commented how they would be able to eat for days.
That was where the legendary part comes in, however. In the time since the diner had been opened, nobody had ever taken any food home, or even left any on their plate. Once a diner took their first bite, it was like they became possessed. They seemed compelled to finish everything that had been set in front of them, even if it meant stuffing themselves beyond their normal limits. This was true regardless of whether it was a burly football player type or a tiny little waif of a woman.
And these ridiculously sized meals that were devoured in their entirety were not the trendy, health conscious fare served at other establishments. Entrees were either greasy, high calorie, high fat, high sugar, deep fried, or all of the above. It was not unusual to see patrons leaning back in a chair, gingerly rubbing their distended bellies, with their pants unfastened after a meal. Their eyes would glaze over as the waitress would tell them about the infamous dessert menu, which, despite the uncomfortable tautness of their stomachs, customers were seemingly unable to resist. Out-of-Towners would come for one meal and would end up returning for every meal they ate while on their trip.
While tourists and business travelers would leave town with indigestion and their clothes fitting tighter than when they arrived, the diner’s regular patrons had a more noticeable consequence of indulging at the diner. The immense portions of rich high-calorie food eaten on a regular basis would quickly show up on their waistline.
Three young ladies, who worked as tellers at a nearby bank, were lunch regulars over the past three years. They would only miss for vacations and sick days. Their lunch choice was the same every day, the taco salad - a tortilla bowl so large it resembled a bucket, filled to the top with a mixture of meat, beans and cheese (absolutely no lettuce), and topped off with a huge scoop of sour cream.
All three women would polish off the meal in less than half an hour to make sure they had time for dessert. For that they would each get a different dish, so they could trade bites off each other’s enormous sweet treat. By the time they finished, they had each consumed more calories than the average person ate in two days, and they had done so happily chatting with each other the whole time.
After three years of lunches this gluttonous, the women were each now sixty to seventy pounds heavier. The group now struggled to fit into their favorite booth together. Two of the women were quite top heavy and had to suck in their guts to slide into place. Once they exhaled, the edge of the table deeply creased their doughy midsections. The third teller always sat opposite her friends because her wide hips and prominent saddlebags took up more than half the bench once the cellulite spread out as she sat.
Despite the trios’ rather rapid transformation from "normal sized," to "plump," to "fat," the ladies never once thought of discontinuing their lunches at the diner.
Another notable regular was the neighborhood’s policeman. He had started getting a cinnamon roll from the diner since the day Austin had reopened the place. The roll more closely resembled a small cake than an actual roll. It was soft and gooey and drenched in rich, creamy icing. No matter how busy the officer was he always made sure to finish his roll. Most days he would also make it back to the diner for his lunch as well.
Of course, the staggering amount of calories that came with his meal choices had quite an effect upon the man’s body. His once broad shoulders now looked downright narrow compared to his sixty-eight inch waist. His silhouette looked even bigger as a result of his bulletproof vest not being able to properly accommodate his large, sagging man-boobs. But like the bank tellers, no matter how much his weight increased, the officer never once even considered not eating at Austin’s Diner.
Austin’s wait staff was certainly not immune to the seemingly irresistible food they served. The employees were exposed to the diet-busting meals for eight- to twelve-hour shifts with two breaks and lunch rather than just a meal or two, and they got to eat as much as they wanted for free. When a new employee would start, all the full-time girls would make bets on what size uniform shorts the rookie would be wearing when they left.
A majority of the wait staff were usually students working during the summer or taking a semester off to earn money, so most were only around for three or four months. But with the huge meals and constant snacking, some would go up as many as four sizes before they quit.
The full-timers were the ones whose transformations were truly astonishing. Two in particular had been with the eatery for quite a while.
Angel had been a waitress at Austin’s for over two and a half years now. She was a young, hard-working girl who had wanted a break from student life after high school. When she had started at Austin’s, she had a petite little frame, with a curvy, yet firm, backside, which she attributed to her half-Mexican heritage.
However, her strong sweet tooth worked against her when she took her breaks, as she was never seen seated without a slice of one of the many varieties of pie in front of her. Of course, a slice at Austin’s diner amounted to a quarter of a pie so thick it looked like two pies stacked on top of each other. Most types of pie came with three huge scoops of ice cream on top.
With this type of repeated indulgence it was not long before Angel’s curvy little bottom became a large mass of quivering cellulite. After her hips and ass spread to monumental proportions, her torso began storing excess fat. Her once flat little tummy grew into a large pouch that was usually creased by the waistline of her shorts, giving her an upper and lower belly. Her breasts swelled from her former perky little A cups to floppy C’s. Her upper arms turned soft and flabby, looking very matronly.
In her time at Austin’s, she had gone from 127 to 251 pounds. Despite her rise to obesity, she was as friendly and good spirited as the day she was hired. She frequently flirted with customers and most often got flirted with right back. Maybe because, despite the two extra chins and cheeks that looked like they were stuffed with marshmallows, she had still kept her exotic suntanned skin soft and smooth looking. Her long silky black hair she pulled back into a cute ponytail when she worked.
A sharp contrast to Angel’s ethnic heritage and innocent youth was Bonnie. She was a tough-as-nails Texan, in her late thirties. Being a waitress had been all she had ever done. Bonnie had been Austin’s first hire when he bought the diner. As a result she seemed to have a connection with him that none of the other girls had. Most of the girls would go through Bonnie, as the unofficial head waitress, if they needed to ask Austin something. She would often meet with him back in the office with the door closed. She would claim it was to discuss scheduling, but rumors quickly spread that Bonnie and Austin were an item, a claim that neither of the two would directly deny.
When Bonnie started at the diner, she definitely turned heads. Standing a rather imposing 5’ 10” and possessing a pair of 42EE breasts, she would often get doubletakes from a distance by men ten years younger than her. However, her weathered skin with years of sun damage, and a noticeable beer gut from even more years of hard drinking, gave away her age when they got closer.
Five years of eating the majority of her meals at the diner had added a staggering amount of weight to the rugged country girl’s body. She had ballooned from a solid 183 pounds to a sumo-like 348 pounds. Her extra weight had been distributed pretty evenly over her figure. Her tan legs resembled thick tree trunks; pockets of cellulite along with spider webs of varicose veins surrounded her thighs and hung down over her knees. Her solid calves were as big around as her thighs used to be. Her constantly swollen feet were usually stuffed into a pair of slip-on shoes with thick soles that did their best to distribute her massive weight.
Her hips and buttocks were comprised of so many lumps and blobs of fat that they had lost all shape, part of which was due to Bonnie’s immense belly apron and love handles weighing down heavily on them. The rolls of blubber and gobs of lard-filled skin that made up her midsection all kind of lumped together under her supersized t-shirts. Her once proud boobs were now cumbersome, sagging udders that flopped around her torso like they had a mind of their own, despite an expensive, custom-fitted 64MM bra that only seemed to accomplish making her breasts sweat profusely and caused her abundant back fat to bunch up around the strap. Her constantly wobbling arms resembled wet bags of cement, and stuck almost straight out to her sides when she stood due to the deposits of blubber that had built up under her arms.
Bonnie’s face was completely unrecognizable from five years ago. She had added chin after chin until now it had melted into one big piece of flesh that hid her neck completely and came up around the sides of her face.
Bonnie’s immense girth had affected her mobility in certain ways. She was unable to bend over without bracing herself, and most doorways posed a problem for her wide mass to fit through. For the most part, however, she carried her weight remarkably well for someone who was forced to stand with her feet more than shoulder width apart, and who could not even see those feet, for that matter. She managed to continue to waitress, although she definitely felt the strain of carrying all that excess weight at the end of the day.
Through it all, Bonnie never regretted her decision to work at Austin’s and possessed quite a fierce loyalty to the man who employed her and who, arguably, was responsible for her current bloated form.
Now, however strange the situation sounds to the average person, to the people who worked and ate at Austin’s Diner this was just part of everyday life. This "everyday life" continued on for quite some time. It was right after the five-year anniversary of the diner that some really unusual things started happening.
Story continued in post 4 of this thread
