Growing Girl
Member
SSBBW, Eating Contest, ~XWG - its best to count the numbers before entrring an eating contest
Doubling Up
By Growing Girl
Looking at Jasmin now, youd never guess that just six months ago, she was a slip of a woman.
Jasmin always loved her donuts. Ysee, I run a donut store - you can tell from the paunch on me - and Jasmin would come in every now and then and treat herself.
But the things began to change when I had an idea for a brilliant marketing scheme. An extended eating competition. The rules were pretty simple.
In the first week, you got a free donut. If you ate it (and who wouldnt?), in the second week, you got twice as many - two free donuts. If you ate them, in the third week you got four free donuts. And so on. It's a doubling thing.
If, any week, you didnt eat your free donuts, you had to pay for everything youd eaten during the competition. To check nobody cheated, all the donuts had to be eaten in the shop.
Anyone who made it through just fifteen weeks of this got free donuts for life!
Sounds too good to be true? Lots of my customers thought so. But who can resist free donuts? The first week, word really got round, and several hundred customers entered. They all registered, and signed a disclaimer promising to pay for their donuts if they dropped out.
I think almost every one of those customers returned the second week. Some had their two donuts one after another; others came in twice and had one donut each time. Either way was fine with me. The shop was busy, even if I was making a loss. The money would come in when they dropped out of the contest.
The first drop-outs came in the third week. Not many people wanted four donuts at once, and some of them just found it too inconvenient to come by several times a week. For the most part, they paid up without question - after all, theyd got their moneys worth.
By the fourth week, to stay in the contest, you had to have eight donuts. Lots of customers came in each day of the week, eating two on one of the days. Others started doing the maths and decided it was time to quit, before they packed on the pounds. I was getting plenty of money in, and I knew most of them would be back next time they wanted donuts.
I began to get to recognise those who were still competing in the fifth week. Sixteen donuts in a week was a big call for some of them, but for others, it wasnt anything unusual. All they had to do was eat two or three a day, but there was one guy - Big Bill, he called himself, who had all sixteen, one after another. He thought he was on to a winner.
I think I first noticed Jasmin during the sixth week. Contestants were dropping like leaves in autumn. Most of those left in were fat, but Jasmin was slim. Tall, too, with shoulder-length bleach-blond hair, wearing cut-off shorts and a top which exposed a pretty flat stomach. She didnt look the type for an eating contest, and I figured that shed drop out pretty soon.
Things started getting serious in week seven. The contestants had to eat sixty-four donuts. Nine per day, plus an extra one. Big Bill was certainly big - mustve been three hundred pounds. I dont reckon sixty-four donuts in a week was unusual for him, and he sailed through in four sittings, eating sixteen donuts a time. Jasmin looked like shed planned the week out, eating three each morning, three at lunchtime and three each afternoon. By the end of the week, only four contestants remained, and Id easily recouped the cost of the competition in payments from withdrawn contestants and increased sales from satisfied customers. One question remained - how far would the last four get?
Week eight took us more than halfway through the contest. The contestants had to scarf 128 donuts during the week - roughly eighteen per day. Big Bill and Jasmin didnt seem to have anything much else to do with their days, so they pretty much installed themselves in the shop. Jasmin paced herself, morning til night, at one donut per hour. Her favourite outfits were unchanged, but she was definitely developing a belly. Big Bill, on the other hand, arrived in the afternoon and ate eighteen donuts as quickly as he could. His frame still seemed unchanged, as did his standard garb of leather pants and a Hawaiian shirt.
The other contestants defeated, only Jasmin and Big Bill made it through to week nine. 256 donuts was a mountain to eat.
The contest was generating publicity again, so we sorted out Jasmin and Big Bill with their favourite tables, and offered them free drinks all day. As they munched through their plated of food, I got chatting to them both.
Jasmin had grown up in a trailer park across town. She was twenty-four years old, and had just gone through a divorce. Shed never held down a job for longer than a year, and had entered the contest to get some free food. Shed always loved donuts, but otherwise ate pretty healthily and had never before put any weight on. She was putting on weight now - her belly was expanding, and her usual cut-offs and tops were definitely tighter than before.
Big Bill had always been big. His goatee didnt hide his double chin, and his Hawaiian shirts didnt disguise his girth. He worked on and off in trucking, driving cross-country, but always came back to his home town. Hed entered a few competitive eating contests before, and he was in for the long haul.
Each had their own strategy. Bill ate eighteen donuts each morning, took a break and then chewed down eighteen each evening. Jasmin, on the other hand, ate more steadily, averaging two to three donuts per hour.
Both contestants made it through week nine. I reminded them that there were only six more weeks to go, before they won free donuts for life. I didnt mention that, if they dropped out, their expenses were pretty high, too.
Week ten, and they had to eat 512 donuts. I thought this might be the end of it, and so did the local press. The local newspaper took some photos and ran a story, and a reporter came down from a local radio station. Jasmin and Bill seemed to enjoy their minor celebrity, and some of my customers picked their side and encouraged one or the other to keep going. The donuts I gave them were more than made up for by those I sold to people whod heard about the contest in the media and were curious.
Bill maintained his stuff and break strategy, getting through more than thirty donuts each morning and each evening. His beard seemed permanently studded with crumbs, and I think he was beginning to feel the effects.
Jasmin ploughed on steadily, increasing her intake to average four donuts per hour. She was definitely piling the weight on all over now, developing a double chin and exposing a mass of belly over which her top rode.
I was surprised that both contestants remained at the start of week eleven. I couldnt see either of them managing the 1,024 donuts - so I generously rounded it down to just one thousand for the week!
Still, the shop was now busy from morning til night, with customers supporting Jasmin or Bill. Each seemed to spend the day with a few fans around their table, encouraging them, helping with strategy, and ready to run and get their every need.
With so many donuts to get through, neither Jasmin nor Bill were taking any breaks they didnt absolutely have to. I decided to make it a twenty-four hour attraction, providing beds, storage space for their clothes, and letting them use our shower out back to freshen up.
By the middle of week eleven, Bill was doing well, having eaten over six hundred donuts - I made that around eight per waking hour. Jasmin was behind and had only managed four hundred and fifty. It was a good effort, but shed have to do better in the second half of the week.
Bill was beginning to bulge out of his Hawaiian shirts - even though they were extra large. Jasmin was busting out all over, and could barely fit into any of her old outfits. A couple of her supporters went out to buy her something in a larger size, although she insisted on the same style.
With the contest becoming so popular with the local community, a local paper offered a $1,000 prize to the winner. We got some coverage from the media in the state capital, and even a TV station came and filmed the tense last day of the week.
Jasmin was now a fat woman, wearing a top which barely covered her breasts and exposed a large stomach. She was unable to do up the zipper on her cut-off jeans, while porky thighs and an expanding ass stretched their material. Bill was definitely fatter than at the start of the contest, and was also struggling to keep his pants zipped up.
At six pm on the last day of the week, Bill finished his thousandth donut. With Jasmin only just over nine hundred, he thought victory was his. Jasmins supporters gathered round to help her. Sixteen and two-thirds donuts per hour. One every four minutes.
One woman had a stopwatch, and called out every four minutes for Jasmin to eat another donut. Two young guys took turns to massage her belly, to help the food go down. Several other fans were running relays to bring her drinks.
Everything was going well, until Jasmin had to go to the bathroom. She waddled over, but finding it difficult to do anything with great speed, she lost ten minutes. She appeared ready to admit defeat, but her supporters wouldnt let her get away with it. A plump girl named Lara offered to feed her at the required rate; all she had to do was chew.
The woman with the stopwatch sped up to demand Jasmin swallowed a donut every three minutes for the remainder of the night. At eleven-fifty, she finally ate her thousandth, and a cheer went up.
So week eleven was down, leaving only four more weeks of the contest. With the television cameras on me, I thought Id be compassionate. The contestants bills for donuts eaten were now sky-high, but I magnanimously offered to cancel them. After all, Id made that money many times over from the customers crammed into the shop. With this promise made, both Bill and Jasmin declared themselves ready to start the week of two thousand donuts.
Bill laid into our stock with his usual relish. Jasmin, on the other hand, started slowly, and Lara was soon feeding her again. I put hourly totals above the bar, and phoning them through for the local radio to support. It seemed like the whole town popped in at some point during the week to see Bill and Jasmin stuff themselves.
Much to my surprise, by the last day, Jasmin was on track. Her regime, being fed a donut to order every three minutes of the waking day, occupied her week to exclusion of everything else. She spent the last few days lying on the bed Id provided in her extra large underwear, seemingly no longer bothered what the world thought of her. Surrounded by crumbs, half-covered in jam, her flesh wobbling with every chew, I thought she looked fantastic.
Bill was trying to keep feeding himself and to sit up at the table, wearing outsize versions of his old outfit. But as the clock ticked to midnight, and Jasmins supporters cheered her two-thousandth donut, it became obvious that Bill wasnt going to make it. At 1,764 donuts, he gave up.
Jasmins team were jubilant. But I reminded them that, while shed won the newspapers $1,000, to have free donuts for life, she had three more weeks to go. Better yet, the radio station had offered to put up a $10,000 prize if she made it. Their ratings were doing so well, with the town tuned in to hear about the contests progress, that it was worth their while. And besides, Id assured them that there was no chance of her making it.
For week thirteen, the target was four thousand donuts. Based on an eighteen-hour eating day, that was a donut just over every two minutes. Four thousand donuts was more than I used to sell in a week, to the entire town, but by this point, visitors were coming from far and wide, and baking so many presented me with no difficulties.
Jasmin was now an eating machine. A donut every two minutes was a big ask, and her team were strict in keeping her to it. There were times in the week when she would have pulled out, but they kept stuffing her with donuts until she agreed to continue. Her team were proving so helpful, that I started providing them with free donuts, too, and soon they were getting through a couple of dozen each per day.
By the end of week thirteen, Jasmin had just made her target of four thousand donuts. She was a mountain of flesh and struggled to sit up or stand, even to go to the bathroom. Her team were also putting on some weight, with Lara, her masseurs and timer all finding their bellies a little larger and their clothes a little tighter. Mind you, with so many donuts passing through the shop, I mustve been eating a few more myself, too, as I found some of my pants impossible to secure.
Week fourteen would be the last-but-one. There was surely no way that Jasmin, incredible eater that she was, could manage her target of eight thousand donuts. But her team had a plan. They bought a blender, and mulched up five donuts at a time into a sticky, sickly concoction. Id never specified that the donuts had to be intact, so I could only admire their plan as they poured donut cocktails down Jasmins throat.
By the end of week fourteen, Jasmin appeared unable to move. In an occasional break from feeding her, her team would make themselves donut cocktails, and they soon persuaded me to add them to our menu for customers. Her feeder, Lara, always plump, had been consuming enough herself to find her old clothes restrictive, and the work of pouring drinks down Jasmins throat an increasing effort. But they just made their target of eight thousand donuts.
Week fifteen was the last week of the contest, and even though Id set up the contest to make it impossible to win, I was cheering for Jasmin. A TV crew had set up to film highlights of the remainder of the competition, with Big Bill employed as a weighty commentator and we were getting national media coverage. Restaurants and bars across the country had set up similar contests, and Jasmins potential prize fund now stood at well over $100,000.
The donut drinks were selling so well that I was making it by the vat, and I agreed a plan with Jasmins team. As Lara was struggling to feed Jasmin, and the 16,000 donuts required this week would have doubled her workrate, we could set up a pump and a feeding tube. The donut mixture would flow direct to Jasmins stomach, and she was guaranteed a win.
The final week was therefore one of the easiest. We removed Jasmins feeding tube for the prize ceremony, but she managed to demand it was replaced. Although Im stuck providing her with free donuts for life, Laras staying on to look after her - although at the rate she continues to pile on the pounds, I suspect shell barely be mobile in a few months. With most of the townsfolk now popping in for daily donuts, the business is thriving and the town is now officially the fattest in the nation. Thanks to the contest, I think Ill be able to retire before my own weight gain makes it impossible for me to continue.
Doubling Up
By Growing Girl
Looking at Jasmin now, youd never guess that just six months ago, she was a slip of a woman.
Jasmin always loved her donuts. Ysee, I run a donut store - you can tell from the paunch on me - and Jasmin would come in every now and then and treat herself.
But the things began to change when I had an idea for a brilliant marketing scheme. An extended eating competition. The rules were pretty simple.
In the first week, you got a free donut. If you ate it (and who wouldnt?), in the second week, you got twice as many - two free donuts. If you ate them, in the third week you got four free donuts. And so on. It's a doubling thing.
If, any week, you didnt eat your free donuts, you had to pay for everything youd eaten during the competition. To check nobody cheated, all the donuts had to be eaten in the shop.
Anyone who made it through just fifteen weeks of this got free donuts for life!
Sounds too good to be true? Lots of my customers thought so. But who can resist free donuts? The first week, word really got round, and several hundred customers entered. They all registered, and signed a disclaimer promising to pay for their donuts if they dropped out.
I think almost every one of those customers returned the second week. Some had their two donuts one after another; others came in twice and had one donut each time. Either way was fine with me. The shop was busy, even if I was making a loss. The money would come in when they dropped out of the contest.
The first drop-outs came in the third week. Not many people wanted four donuts at once, and some of them just found it too inconvenient to come by several times a week. For the most part, they paid up without question - after all, theyd got their moneys worth.
By the fourth week, to stay in the contest, you had to have eight donuts. Lots of customers came in each day of the week, eating two on one of the days. Others started doing the maths and decided it was time to quit, before they packed on the pounds. I was getting plenty of money in, and I knew most of them would be back next time they wanted donuts.
I began to get to recognise those who were still competing in the fifth week. Sixteen donuts in a week was a big call for some of them, but for others, it wasnt anything unusual. All they had to do was eat two or three a day, but there was one guy - Big Bill, he called himself, who had all sixteen, one after another. He thought he was on to a winner.
I think I first noticed Jasmin during the sixth week. Contestants were dropping like leaves in autumn. Most of those left in were fat, but Jasmin was slim. Tall, too, with shoulder-length bleach-blond hair, wearing cut-off shorts and a top which exposed a pretty flat stomach. She didnt look the type for an eating contest, and I figured that shed drop out pretty soon.
Things started getting serious in week seven. The contestants had to eat sixty-four donuts. Nine per day, plus an extra one. Big Bill was certainly big - mustve been three hundred pounds. I dont reckon sixty-four donuts in a week was unusual for him, and he sailed through in four sittings, eating sixteen donuts a time. Jasmin looked like shed planned the week out, eating three each morning, three at lunchtime and three each afternoon. By the end of the week, only four contestants remained, and Id easily recouped the cost of the competition in payments from withdrawn contestants and increased sales from satisfied customers. One question remained - how far would the last four get?
Week eight took us more than halfway through the contest. The contestants had to scarf 128 donuts during the week - roughly eighteen per day. Big Bill and Jasmin didnt seem to have anything much else to do with their days, so they pretty much installed themselves in the shop. Jasmin paced herself, morning til night, at one donut per hour. Her favourite outfits were unchanged, but she was definitely developing a belly. Big Bill, on the other hand, arrived in the afternoon and ate eighteen donuts as quickly as he could. His frame still seemed unchanged, as did his standard garb of leather pants and a Hawaiian shirt.
The other contestants defeated, only Jasmin and Big Bill made it through to week nine. 256 donuts was a mountain to eat.
The contest was generating publicity again, so we sorted out Jasmin and Big Bill with their favourite tables, and offered them free drinks all day. As they munched through their plated of food, I got chatting to them both.
Jasmin had grown up in a trailer park across town. She was twenty-four years old, and had just gone through a divorce. Shed never held down a job for longer than a year, and had entered the contest to get some free food. Shed always loved donuts, but otherwise ate pretty healthily and had never before put any weight on. She was putting on weight now - her belly was expanding, and her usual cut-offs and tops were definitely tighter than before.
Big Bill had always been big. His goatee didnt hide his double chin, and his Hawaiian shirts didnt disguise his girth. He worked on and off in trucking, driving cross-country, but always came back to his home town. Hed entered a few competitive eating contests before, and he was in for the long haul.
Each had their own strategy. Bill ate eighteen donuts each morning, took a break and then chewed down eighteen each evening. Jasmin, on the other hand, ate more steadily, averaging two to three donuts per hour.
Both contestants made it through week nine. I reminded them that there were only six more weeks to go, before they won free donuts for life. I didnt mention that, if they dropped out, their expenses were pretty high, too.
Week ten, and they had to eat 512 donuts. I thought this might be the end of it, and so did the local press. The local newspaper took some photos and ran a story, and a reporter came down from a local radio station. Jasmin and Bill seemed to enjoy their minor celebrity, and some of my customers picked their side and encouraged one or the other to keep going. The donuts I gave them were more than made up for by those I sold to people whod heard about the contest in the media and were curious.
Bill maintained his stuff and break strategy, getting through more than thirty donuts each morning and each evening. His beard seemed permanently studded with crumbs, and I think he was beginning to feel the effects.
Jasmin ploughed on steadily, increasing her intake to average four donuts per hour. She was definitely piling the weight on all over now, developing a double chin and exposing a mass of belly over which her top rode.
I was surprised that both contestants remained at the start of week eleven. I couldnt see either of them managing the 1,024 donuts - so I generously rounded it down to just one thousand for the week!
Still, the shop was now busy from morning til night, with customers supporting Jasmin or Bill. Each seemed to spend the day with a few fans around their table, encouraging them, helping with strategy, and ready to run and get their every need.
With so many donuts to get through, neither Jasmin nor Bill were taking any breaks they didnt absolutely have to. I decided to make it a twenty-four hour attraction, providing beds, storage space for their clothes, and letting them use our shower out back to freshen up.
By the middle of week eleven, Bill was doing well, having eaten over six hundred donuts - I made that around eight per waking hour. Jasmin was behind and had only managed four hundred and fifty. It was a good effort, but shed have to do better in the second half of the week.
Bill was beginning to bulge out of his Hawaiian shirts - even though they were extra large. Jasmin was busting out all over, and could barely fit into any of her old outfits. A couple of her supporters went out to buy her something in a larger size, although she insisted on the same style.
With the contest becoming so popular with the local community, a local paper offered a $1,000 prize to the winner. We got some coverage from the media in the state capital, and even a TV station came and filmed the tense last day of the week.
Jasmin was now a fat woman, wearing a top which barely covered her breasts and exposed a large stomach. She was unable to do up the zipper on her cut-off jeans, while porky thighs and an expanding ass stretched their material. Bill was definitely fatter than at the start of the contest, and was also struggling to keep his pants zipped up.
At six pm on the last day of the week, Bill finished his thousandth donut. With Jasmin only just over nine hundred, he thought victory was his. Jasmins supporters gathered round to help her. Sixteen and two-thirds donuts per hour. One every four minutes.
One woman had a stopwatch, and called out every four minutes for Jasmin to eat another donut. Two young guys took turns to massage her belly, to help the food go down. Several other fans were running relays to bring her drinks.
Everything was going well, until Jasmin had to go to the bathroom. She waddled over, but finding it difficult to do anything with great speed, she lost ten minutes. She appeared ready to admit defeat, but her supporters wouldnt let her get away with it. A plump girl named Lara offered to feed her at the required rate; all she had to do was chew.
The woman with the stopwatch sped up to demand Jasmin swallowed a donut every three minutes for the remainder of the night. At eleven-fifty, she finally ate her thousandth, and a cheer went up.
So week eleven was down, leaving only four more weeks of the contest. With the television cameras on me, I thought Id be compassionate. The contestants bills for donuts eaten were now sky-high, but I magnanimously offered to cancel them. After all, Id made that money many times over from the customers crammed into the shop. With this promise made, both Bill and Jasmin declared themselves ready to start the week of two thousand donuts.
Bill laid into our stock with his usual relish. Jasmin, on the other hand, started slowly, and Lara was soon feeding her again. I put hourly totals above the bar, and phoning them through for the local radio to support. It seemed like the whole town popped in at some point during the week to see Bill and Jasmin stuff themselves.
Much to my surprise, by the last day, Jasmin was on track. Her regime, being fed a donut to order every three minutes of the waking day, occupied her week to exclusion of everything else. She spent the last few days lying on the bed Id provided in her extra large underwear, seemingly no longer bothered what the world thought of her. Surrounded by crumbs, half-covered in jam, her flesh wobbling with every chew, I thought she looked fantastic.
Bill was trying to keep feeding himself and to sit up at the table, wearing outsize versions of his old outfit. But as the clock ticked to midnight, and Jasmins supporters cheered her two-thousandth donut, it became obvious that Bill wasnt going to make it. At 1,764 donuts, he gave up.
Jasmins team were jubilant. But I reminded them that, while shed won the newspapers $1,000, to have free donuts for life, she had three more weeks to go. Better yet, the radio station had offered to put up a $10,000 prize if she made it. Their ratings were doing so well, with the town tuned in to hear about the contests progress, that it was worth their while. And besides, Id assured them that there was no chance of her making it.
For week thirteen, the target was four thousand donuts. Based on an eighteen-hour eating day, that was a donut just over every two minutes. Four thousand donuts was more than I used to sell in a week, to the entire town, but by this point, visitors were coming from far and wide, and baking so many presented me with no difficulties.
Jasmin was now an eating machine. A donut every two minutes was a big ask, and her team were strict in keeping her to it. There were times in the week when she would have pulled out, but they kept stuffing her with donuts until she agreed to continue. Her team were proving so helpful, that I started providing them with free donuts, too, and soon they were getting through a couple of dozen each per day.
By the end of week thirteen, Jasmin had just made her target of four thousand donuts. She was a mountain of flesh and struggled to sit up or stand, even to go to the bathroom. Her team were also putting on some weight, with Lara, her masseurs and timer all finding their bellies a little larger and their clothes a little tighter. Mind you, with so many donuts passing through the shop, I mustve been eating a few more myself, too, as I found some of my pants impossible to secure.
Week fourteen would be the last-but-one. There was surely no way that Jasmin, incredible eater that she was, could manage her target of eight thousand donuts. But her team had a plan. They bought a blender, and mulched up five donuts at a time into a sticky, sickly concoction. Id never specified that the donuts had to be intact, so I could only admire their plan as they poured donut cocktails down Jasmins throat.
By the end of week fourteen, Jasmin appeared unable to move. In an occasional break from feeding her, her team would make themselves donut cocktails, and they soon persuaded me to add them to our menu for customers. Her feeder, Lara, always plump, had been consuming enough herself to find her old clothes restrictive, and the work of pouring drinks down Jasmins throat an increasing effort. But they just made their target of eight thousand donuts.
Week fifteen was the last week of the contest, and even though Id set up the contest to make it impossible to win, I was cheering for Jasmin. A TV crew had set up to film highlights of the remainder of the competition, with Big Bill employed as a weighty commentator and we were getting national media coverage. Restaurants and bars across the country had set up similar contests, and Jasmins potential prize fund now stood at well over $100,000.
The donut drinks were selling so well that I was making it by the vat, and I agreed a plan with Jasmins team. As Lara was struggling to feed Jasmin, and the 16,000 donuts required this week would have doubled her workrate, we could set up a pump and a feeding tube. The donut mixture would flow direct to Jasmins stomach, and she was guaranteed a win.
The final week was therefore one of the easiest. We removed Jasmins feeding tube for the prize ceremony, but she managed to demand it was replaced. Although Im stuck providing her with free donuts for life, Laras staying on to look after her - although at the rate she continues to pile on the pounds, I suspect shell barely be mobile in a few months. With most of the townsfolk now popping in for daily donuts, the business is thriving and the town is now officially the fattest in the nation. Thanks to the contest, I think Ill be able to retire before my own weight gain makes it impossible for me to continue.
