James Duke
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Annipe On Watch (Part 1)
🕑 Added 2024-11-10 22:25:06 +0000 UTCTags: Vanilla weight gain, but future part(s) will include increasing amounts of slob.
The first Pudgy original story this month. It was going to be shorter, but I couldn't stop myself. Good mix of setup and pay off never hurt anyone though! The next part will be all fireworks. Hope you enjoy!
--- Quick Interview ---
Annipe walked into the massive bank, holding a rolled up resume in her hands. Her heels clicked under the polished tile of the bank. She looked up, eyes almost losing focus because of how huge the bank’s ceilings were. It was an opulent establishment, created from all the old money within New York. The wealthy and elite of the city poured their liquid cash into the bank, reaping many rewards as a result. Despite the job offer, Annipe felt that she was unworthy of the grand establishment. She was just a small, Indian college student that needed a job to help offset the costs of schooling. She was close to turning away, folding the resume behind her back, when a hand reached out and grabbed her arm.
“So! Are you Annipe?” An older man asked. He was starting to gray, but otherwise seemed youthful. Annipe nodded quickly, taking stock of the man. His suit was expensive, probably costing more than Annipe’s car. He smiled, an elegant mustache covering his upper lip. “I’m glad that you reached out about the offer!” The man quickly spread his arm around Annipe’s back and walked her down the spacious entrance of the bank. She was escorted quickly into back hallways. The grandeur faded quickly, replaced with the cold utilitarianism of service walkways. Annipe’s discomfort shifted from being in a place too rich for her to being in a guarded area. She was being led into the belly of the surveillance center of the bank. Behind these walls lay the well guarded treasure of the vaults. Soon, it would be her job to guard these treasures.
“I’m Harold Stiener, and I’m the director of security. This,” The man opened a door which led to a room with many, many monitors. “Is the beating heart of our bank.” He bowed slightly as Annipe walked in, seeming even smaller than before. The monitors shone brightly, their screens showing vaults, doors, offices, and anything else of value. She was given a fly’s view of the entire bank. “It’s a pretty simple job.” Steiner walked over to the chair at the head of the monitors. He rolled the chair from one end of the monitors to the other. “We just need someone to stay posted here through various points in the day and night. Though we are closed to the public after five, there are sometimes private parties that come to the bank after.” He brought the chair back to its resting position and indicated a panel with several buttons and a speaker. “Due to the concerns of our investors, we have another force that takes care of security. All we would need from you is to indicate where the trouble is and give details through the private intercom.” Harold turned back to Annipe. “It’s not flashy or exciting but obviously very important. Could you handle the responsibilities?”
Annipe stood straight as the question was pressed to her, looking more like a soldier than a broke college student. “Of course! I would treat this very seriously, sir!” She gave a little bow, hoping to impress the well dressed man. Her thick, lustrous caramel hair fell about her shoulders. She stood up, pulling the wealth of hair with her.
“Wonderful!” Harold put out a big hand. Annipe’s own small hand grasped it back. She seemed almost tiny compared with the big man. He started to walk with Annipe again, taking her out of the room. “There will be a more formal training tomorrow, we will also get you fitted for a proper uniform. Even if you won’t be out of this room much, we need you looking your best.” Annipe looked down at her skinny, nearly emaciated body. She wondered what kind of uniform could possibly fit her, considering most of the people in the security world were men. “Afterwards, I will show you to our kitchen and employee rooms. We like to keep them well stocked. We understand the hours you will be keeping here and want to make sure things are as comfortable as possible.”
--- Days On The Job ---
Annipe’s eyes flitted between the monitors. On them danced the interactions between bank tellers and those coming to manage money affairs. As soon as she felt comfortable with one of the little scenes, Annipe would move onto the next. She was small against the wall of devices, a skimpy little form outline in the glow of constantly running televisions. Annipe fought a yawn of exhaustion and wiped her eyes. Almost immediately after she looked around, checking that she was alone. Her skinny body swiveled in her uniform first and then the chair. The bank had done its best, but had been unable to come up with a suitable uniform for her. What she had been given was small. A brownish green shirt and dark pants hid the Indian woman’s mocha skin. Annipe seemed to hide in the clothes. It looked even more unfitting when she moved, her body not big enough to get the fabric to conform to her flat and curveless shape. Satisfied that she was alone, Annipe returned to the monitors.
She focused on the screens harder than she had focused on anything before. Much like the school textbooks she had left in her car, not wanting to appear casual about her position, the screens seemed to reject scrutiny. Their harsh monochrome coloring hurt Annipe’s eyes, causing the tears she had to wipe away. Likewise, the mundanity of the characters on the screen forced yawns from her lips. Annipe pushed back against boredom, wanting to fight it at all costs. It seemed, however, that boredom would always be the victor in the struggles.
A ring cut through Annipe’s pondering. On one of the corners of the desk there sat a telephone. It was old and jet black, its ring piercing and loud. Annipe scrambled to reach the phone. She had to shove her big chair along, her bony butt not having a tenth of the mass required to motivate the wheeled chair. Annipe caught the phone on the last ring.
“Hey there!” A familiar voice but nameless voice chirped. “Just wanted to call and see how you were holding up!” Annipe frowned, trying to place it. “If you decide to take a quick break, there are donuts in the break room.” The voice finally clicked for Annipe, though it had little to do with the content of the call. It was one of the bank tellers. Though everyone at the bank was usually too busy for casual conversation, a person would start to learn the different voices and what positions they were associated with.
“I had better not. . .I don’t want to be away from the desk too long.” Annipe was quiet in her response.
“Oh don’t worry about that! It takes no time to grab a little snack and get back. Me and the other girls do it all the time!” The faceless woman said. Annipe tried scanning through the monitors to find who might be speaking to her, but it was too hard to tell. There seemed to be no distinguishing the stream of faces on camera. The best Annipe could manage was checking if they were all completing normal operations. “You must be getting a little bored. Nothing like a little sugar to put some pep in your step!”
Annipe sighed, feeling the friendly anticipation on the other side. She briefly considered what emotions she might be sending back through her small silence. “Are you sure?” She asked. “I don’t want to make Mr.Stiener upset with me.” Annipe sighed, trying to let out her nervous tension.
“It will be fine! Just be quick, grab what you need and then rush on back. Nothing is going to happen that quickly.”
“Ok. . .thank you.” Annipe hung up the phone. She tapped her fingers on the desk. The food seemed unnecessary, but she did not want to snub her nose at the friendship offered. The big chair was soon left empty, with Annipe scurrying like a mouse through the back hallways. Upon reaching the break room, she grabbed the mentioned donuts. Without counting, she filled both hands and scurried back to her post. After minutes of intense scanning, Annipe felt comfortable that nothing had happened while she was away. She nibbled a donut, enjoying the taste and brief run of energy that the sugar and carbs gave her. She ate more than she needed, afraid that clues as to her leaving her post might be noticed. Though it was more food than she should have had, Annipe felt satisfied that she had covered her tracks. She settled back into the chair, nursing her stuffed belly. Annipe noticed that her yawns ceased while she had sugar in her system.
--- Snacks from home ---
Annipe had just opened her lunchbox when Harold walked into the observation room. She jumped slightly, a round cookie in her mouth. Rather than take it out, she swallowed it whole. Coughing down every morsel, she had the cookie put away by the time that her boss had made it around to her post. Though nervous at being seen eating, Annipe had at least gotten comfortable with Harlod’s presence. Assured that they were not looking for any infractions to punish, Annipe could focus on doing the job to the best of her abilities. Picking up little tricks and tips as she could.
“Aaaah, brought a little snack pack with you today?” Harold nodded at the lunchbox, which had been left open. A variety of treats spilled out, each filled with sugar to help maintain Annipe’s energy and alertness. Harold smiled. “Not much of a coffee drinker? Our last guard became quite the fan.”
The small Indian woman swallowed, hands around her middle for some sort of comfort. The uniform did not look nearly as big as it had when she first started. Several washings, at least to Annipe’s guess, had taken care of much of the excess fabric. Her shirt curved around her stomach showing a growing softness that had taken root. Her hand glided over it, though Annipe was too concerned with appearing alert and making conversation with her boss to notice the jiggles. “Uhm. . .well. . .it’s just too bitter for me.” She finally said, voice squeaking and quiet. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth.” Annipe followed up, able to speak a little more confidently about treats. She had not been aware of her predilection for sweets until taking the job. The immaculate taste of sugar drenched food followed by the rush of energy was one of the few things that kept her going on the long shifts.
“I totally understand.” Harold walked along the row of monitors, adding a set of eyes to Annipe’s. “My daughter is like that. Of course, she goes to those coffee shops where everything is laced with sugar.” He laughed, making Annipe wonder why she couldn’t just be casual around him. “Basically like drinking a warm milkshake. You might give it a try some time, a warm drink during the winter shifts is nice.” He looked over Annipe, almost embarrassed at what he was going to say. “These back hallways aren’t as insulated as the main bank, so it can get a little cold in the winter.”
“Thank you, I will have to give that a try.” Annipe couldn’t help but give a little bow of her head after she talked, as if she was tipping her head toward royalty. She kicked herself after, feeling foolish.
“Well, you have a couple months to develop a taste.” Harold glanced at the calendar, which marked the very beginning of fall. “Anyway, I won’t distract you more. Have a good shift!” He straightened his shirt and walked out of the room.
Annipe, feeling the tension release, grabbed a couple snacks and started to unwrap them. In addition to their energy boosting potential, Annipe was learning that they had other benefits as well. One such was smoothing over her mental anxieties. She popped a couple snack cakes into her mouth, feeling their soft dough and waiting cream in the middle. Annipe chewed, only aware of what was happening on the screen and the bursts of taste in her mouth. Her focus drifted far away from her belly, which was starting to push out into her belt. Likewise, she was unaware of the second chin that bobbed into reality when she chewed. Above all, she was ignorant of how her weight was slowly approaching 180. Beyond just a little chubby, she was getting rather close to being outright fat.
--- A Cushy Position ---
Annipe waddled into the bank, hoping that Harold would not see her. She walked as quickly as her portly frame would allow, pumping her arms to generate precious extra momentum. In one plump hand she held a lunch box filled with treats, with only a little food to help balance out the sugar. In the other she hefted a large and syrup infused coffee. Annipe had taken Harold’s advice. The designer coffee drinks were more than perfect, being yet another pool of addiction that the weighty woman could dive into. Despite now having common ground about the drinks, Annipe tried hard to avoid her boss. She could not, however, avoid the patrons in the lobby. Annipe wished that there was any other entrance to use than the front. Those same elegant, rich people that had seen her enter as a skinny college woman now watched her waddle in as a fat security guard who was verging on abject obesity.
Fumbling with her lunchbox, Annipe grasped her belt, trying to hike it up over the belly fat that had been accumulating over her months of employment. Annipe’s keys and other assorted tools jangled as her pants were brought kicking and screaming over her gut. Underneath the olive green shirt wobbled a semi-yoga ball of sagging fat. Though the steps of its creation had been logically ordered and obvious to any observers, Annipe could not remember its forming. The same went for the rest of her body. It had seemed that she had woken up one day, pushing well past 200 pounds, almost nearing 280. Her outfits were tight, anything that was not her work uniform being utterly unwearable. Even those had gotten a little snug. There was no excess fabric to speak of. The various slabs of fat on her body strained at buttons, buckles, and stitches alike. Just as her gut bounced, her butt sloshed behind her. The jiggles coming from her various attributes were the whip lashes that made her waddle faster. Anything to hide her flab in the bowels of the bank.
Without stopping, it was getting close to her check-in time, Annipe again passed the sack between her arms. With one arm supporting both the coffee and the lunchbox, she thrust her free hand down past her butt, tugging her shirt along with it. The wobble of her meaty backside constantly seemed to untuck her shirt, though much could be blamed on the counterbalance that her belly and breasts provided. The dark green shirt grew taut once more, buttons straining under the pressure. From the gaps created by her shoving stomach, the white of her undershirt could be seen. Annipe’s chubby hand practically squeezed a butt cheek that had been flat months before. She sighed, hoping that no one with any real power at the bank could see how disheveled she looked. Sweat was starting to brim around her forehead and under her armpits as she waddled. Annipe picked up the pace more, her stomach now sloshing furiously. It was like jelly was being passed between two large bowls, with only a little sheet to hide them. Annipe scurried past the tellers, not feeling truly safe until she was in the back hallways.
When the door lock licked behind her, Annipe breathed a sigh of relief so deep and guttural that one of her buttons came undone. Her gut bubbled outward, flattening as air left her body. Here, in the little hallways and alcoves in the depths of the bank, she could feel safe. More than safe, she was sedated. She had fallen deeply under the spell of the new job. Comfortable chairs, increasingly well stocked break rooms, random treat days, and a hefty salary had gone a long way to building the well of comfort. Annipe was rarely even bored at the job now. She enjoyed spreading her mass about the seat and letting the world pass by on the monitors. It was little wonder that her weight gain had taken her by such surprise. She had gone to sleep one night as a 90 pound stripling and woken into a dream world of comfort and ease. The world was distant to her, hidden away by a row of monitors. As long as she kept watching those screens, she would be rewarded. The dream world might require her to become a plump piggy, but it was a price worth paying. Annipe looked at her reflection in one of the windows as she passed through the hallway, almost struggling to recognize the woman who stared back at her.
----
Weeks later Annipe was no closer to a new uniform than she had been before. Worse, she was growing further from any recognizable size she owned or had access too. Tightness defined her entire being. Fabric cut into her at every curve of her rotund body. Standing and walking had become difficult, every step was a gamble between popping a button or ripping tight seams. She should have waddled more carefully than ever, but she lacked not have the strength for it. Annipe had swollen and bloated, puffing up like dough in an oven. Her cheeks were round and rested upon an apron of neck fat. Her breasts were hefty melons, big but behind the rest of her attributes. Her stomach was a hanging wall of fat. It folded outward as a singular roll, a keg packed with fermenting sugar and snacks. The flabby boulder was contained only by the grace of God and the thin stretches of clothing that Annipe could stretch around it. Her white undershirts, now bearing slight stains from spilled drinks and candy drippings, could only cover three fourths of her vast belly. The monolithic torso poundage shook when she waddled, ever testing the vestiges of clothing around it. Things only got worse as Annipe sat.
“Ooooooh. . .” The young indian woman groaned as she slowly brought her mass into her chair. It had been fully conquered by her voluminous butt. The cushion, once full of life, had been beaten and crushed beneath twin moons of destruction. Annippe’s butt started as a plateau-shelf which flooded down into bulbous cliffs. When standing, they sloshed and bounced; their shape never truly taking solid form. When setting, they expanded to double their size becoming full balloons. Annipe’s pants gave a better fight than her shirts, but her booty fat was quick to circumvent the issue. The heaps of fat bubbled over top of her pants, pushing and pulling her beltline down. Annipe spent much of her time shifts with fistfuls of her rear end exposed. The constant exposure to mind dulling sugar and vapid dramas of people’s lives on the screen went far in tamping down concerns about her appearance. In her little hideaway, she had little to fear other than keeping her mind occupied with her job. The 300 pound woman almost did not notice the little card on the desk.
Annipe, our other shift has regrettably departed. We are thinking of expanding your hours. This would include a bump in salary as well as two new uniforms. Would you be interested? No pressure.
Below the note, written in Steiner’s bold but refined handwriting, was a checkbox and space for Annipe to write her uniform size. Annipe, in a small fit of anxiety, tossed the card away. Her hands returned to her lunch box, now upgraded to a larger size and stuffed even more fully with snacks. There was a small sandwich at the bottom, a little morsel to help balance out the sugar highs. It was ignored as Annipe went for her first round of food. Fluffy snack cakes were unwrapped quickly. Annipe held on in the palm of her tan hand. The frosting started to melt almost instantly from the heat radiating off of Annipe’s palm. Though a comfy pillow, the Indian woman was overly insulated. She ate the cake quickly, taking it in a single bite. Her mouth opened wide, second chin swelling like an oncoming wave at a beach. The noise she made as the food was scarfed down was decidedly pig-like. A meaty bicep swung back and forth, slightly ripping the fabric of her uniform as reached for the next cake. Her eyes returned to the screen, catching up on everything happening on the other side of the bank. Her eating did not slow, but fell into a dedicated rhythm. Sugar was pumped first into her swollen gut, then filtered to the rest of her body as it digested.
Today Annipe ate more than usual, pumping food into her mouth. Even without looking at the lunchbox, she was able to flawlessly grab, unwrap, and shove food down. Her eyes scanned the televisions relentlessly, thoughts bent towards making sure that everything was correct and in place. Her only distraction from the watching came as her stomach started to test her shirts more thoroughly. The snack cakes in her gut were digesting, the bread within them puffing out and expanding. Her breath changed, going from excited puffs to wheezes. The natural limits of her appetite were tested just as the boundaries of her clothes were. Annipe, well used to dealing with her belly, pulled one of the levers on her chair. She leaned the chair back in jerking spurts. The angle of the chair changed, going from an erect 90 degrees to a lazy 150. Annipe’s stomach gurgled, happy that it was being treated well. However, nothing would stop its bloating. Likewise, Annipe would not stop stuffing it full of snacks.
It was only after the lunch box was emptied, hours prematurely, that Annipe was able to turn her attention back to the card. The various rushes of her shift had fallen away, leaving her with a little time to attend to other matters. Her mind was also through the sugar rushes provided by her snacks, having fallen into the sluggish torpor of the stuffed. With her anxiety encased in cotton candy pillows buried under a cement wall of cake breading, Annipe could think about things more clearly. Or, at least as clearly as her painfully stuffed stomach would allow. A lunch box with food meant for an 8 hour shift had been eaten in a quarter of the time. Even Annipe’s stomach could not hope to process that much food. Instead, she floated through a morass of indulgent torpor, sluggishly performing her job.
“I should. . .ooooohh. . .” Annipe moaned, hand lifting to struggle towards the card. Along her arm, spreading to the rest of her torso, came the tightness of fabric. Arms that were mostly fat struggled for any sort of freedom, pulling against the confines of her uniform. That pulling led to her stomach, which had become singularly round and taut. Though ensconced in softness, there was a tightness that had not existed before. Annipe gave up moving, falling back into the chair with a chorus of jiggles. All but her gut remained soft and jiggling. Her over pumped yoga ball belly was lovingly support by goopy thighs and hugged by large breasts. Annipe wheezed, shifting on occasion to try and free up space. The card was fully out of reach of her hand, but remained on her mind. She massaged her gut, similarly running over the options presented in her mind. “It is nice here. . .” Annipe said aloud. She looked around the room, which had become more well worn than her own apartment. The hours would get longer, making school all but impossible. However, there was also the salary bonus to consider.
“Do I even need. . .uuulllrrruuup. . .” Annipe burped, needing more space in her belly. She blushed a little as the gas escaped her mouth. At 300 pounds, she was no stranger to belches. Yet, she had always tried to hide them. It seemed unbecoming of her place in the bank. Yet, now as it echoed off the colorless walls, she found the burp charming. No one would even know that she had done it. “Blluuuurruup.” Annipe tossed another belch out, freeing her stomach and mind a little more. An indulgent smile spread across her lips as the pain in her stomach receded a bit. Her eyes drifted between the card and the televisions, just as her thoughts drifted between her life as it stood now and what it could be. The pay was already nice, more than she deserved as an unskilled college student. It was almost mind blowing to think they were willing to give her more. Annipe sluggishly considered what the raise might be like. A warmth spread over her, her fat radiating with pleasure. Further, the offer of two new uniforms was also attractive. Life was working out for her in ways she could not imagine.
“I. . .bbbboooorruup. . .think I will. Annipe said, flopping her arms towards the card. She laughed, mind turning silly as she crashed fully out of her sugar high. Her arms seemed so pathetic now, fat pillars with little sausages at the end. Even as she twisted the chair to the side, the card was just out of reach. She trained, tightness telling her that her belly was putting undue pressure on her uniform. “Come. . .ooooon. . .bbbbuuuurruup. . .OH!” Annipe exclaimed, as something shifted. She came no closer to the card, but there was a freedom in her mid section. Before she could turn her chubby face, she heard the pinging of plastic buttons on the floor. “Guess I really need to accept now. . .” Annipe thought sleepily. She sighed, preparing her body to sit upright.
Still more stuffed than she had ever been, Annipe worked herself up slowly. She gasped and hugged her gut with one hand, feeling the churn of digestive juices inside. It gurgled and spat at her, angry at being moved. Her other hand gripped the arm rest, her arm struggling to prop herself up. Annipe shook more than ever as she pushed her corpulent form upwards. Her belly shoved through the rest of her uniform, pushing buttons aside with ease. The white shirt underneath had ridden up completely, showing a meaty gut brimming with food. The tightness which had been subsiding came back with a vengeance. Annipe struggled, her shoulders from side to side, doing anything that might generate momentum. Finally, in a last blast of desperation, she pushed herself up. Her stomach flopped up and down before getting crushed by the rest of her weight.
Fffffflllllllrrrrrtt! The little fart burst from Annipe’s backside as her stomach was compressed. She gasped, sitting upright once more. Terrified of violating a taboo beyond the other ones she had already violated, she looked around. Yet, the observation room was as still and silent as it ever was. Just as when she had burped, there was no one around to judge her. Rather than sit in the discomfort, Annipe reached forward to grab the little card. She scrawled her response to Stiener, afraid that the offer would be rescinded instantly. Her chubby hands scratched out a glowing note, followed by a suggested size for her new uniform. Airing on the side of caution, Annipe added several X’s before a final L. Afterwards, she lay back in her chair and returned to work.
Comments
James Duke
Thank you! Haha I don't want to say too much either. Not necessarily because there is some huge twist coming, but just to build a little suspense.
PrivateXimmy
Oooo this is a fantastic start! Really love how *gentle* of a progression this is. Rather than being brought on by any sort of external force, it’s simply her slowly loosening her inhibitions as she comes to enjoy her well pampered privacy, already beginning to embrace her status as a newly christened fatty in body, heart and mind. Depending on the tone and scope this story takes, there’s a *lot* of interesting takes I could see this going into, and rather then make an outright prediction, I’ll say I’m simply excited to see where it takes us. And heck, it’s a duology for now (with a lot of tags on deviantart for future content, mind you!), who knows! Maybe this could even keep going beyond that. We’ll just have to see how this wraps up!
