Special Promotion - Part 16 (Patreon)

In which Jenny finally confronts her rival, and things do NOT turn out as expected

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So.. Jenny had let herself go. The days of working up the courage to get out and exercise more had turned into weeks. Even the slow ponderous waddle to the door had become so strenuous she had started just inviting the delivery folk to take her daily delivery of donuts inside. It wasn’t exactly her fault, was it? Not when each delivery was more delicious than the last. Somehow more fresh, more soft, more inviting in flavour and density. She could write essays, books on those donuts. Surely anyone else when put in a similar position would fall behind on their other duties. Like work.

Or exercise.

And that’s how Jenny justified it. That’s how she justified her rapidly shrinking wardrobe. How she justified the fact that none of her work shirts or casual hoodies would cover her growing, wobbling stomach anymore. How none of her pants fit, and those she tried to pull up her blubber swollen legs would stretch until they burst at the seams. She realised too late that she thought of her weight gain more like something that was happening to someone else. Sure it was her who spent part of her budget buying extra big shirts and shorts so that she had something at all she could wear, but that wasn’t the result of her actions. Someone else was pushing all those lard filled donuts into her mouth, expanding her stomach by inches nightly, packing it full just to see how much she could take and going until she fell asleep in the afterglow of orgasmic bliss.

That was how she justified it. How she justified the fact that, sitting down, her legs were pushed far apart by the encroaching, growing mass of her stomach. How she justified the constant icing stains on her furless fingers and the mess of donut boxes strewn around the apartment. That was how she justified it to herself, in her mind. But now there was Diana.

Her personal nemesis, the only real person Jenny considered to be an enemy, stood in the doorway of her apartment, taking in the mess of donut boxes and crumbs, the pile of take-away containers overflowing her bin, the miasma of sweet icing scent mixed with the smell of guilty orgasms. She stood there, looking over Jenny’s ruined apartment with her mouth gaping open like a fish. It would have been comical - Jenny might even have laughed were she not the tub of lard which had so captivated her co-workers attention. It was mortifying - inexcusable. After every sniping battle, in person and online, every snide jab and sneer, how could it end like this?! In Jenny’s utter defeat and humiliation. A fat cow. A blimp. A whale.

The rabbit’s lips slowly curled into a snarling grin.

“So this is why you’ve been working from home.” She sneered. “Why your work performance has been garbage. Because you’ve been eating garbage!” Diane laughed to herself, a familiar laugh that put the mouse’s hackles up.

“Why are you even here?!” A valid question, Jenny thought. Who just barges into somebody else’s place like that?

A quick flash in Diane’s eyes was all it took for Jenny to know the question hit upon a weakness. There really was no excuse for her to be at Jenny’s home, but she was about to make one up. “You haven’t been in the office in months!” Diane exclaimed with an exaggerated sigh, “Sure nobody told me to come check up on you, but someone had to! And look at what I found..” she trailed off, quickly returning to that sneering grin she wore earlier. “Not a model employee, not even a mouse, but a donut fed pig, huh?”

The words hit Jenny like a slap across the face. She recoiled physically.

A donut fed pig.

Suddenly the mouse felt every inch of herself. Every exposed pound of blubber. Every chin, every crease, every pillowy fold. She really was a pig. And she had done it to herself. Months of gorging on nearly nothing but donuts and she was starting to look like one. Rounder than anyone she knew, except Katie, of course. But for once Katie being bigger than her wasn’t a comfort, a goal or a source of arousal. Here she sat under Diane’s gaze and all she wanted was to shrink and hide. The blush that burned across her cheeks must have been visible from space.

Like some kind of emotional vampire, Diane seemed to feed off of the embarrassment, the blushing cheeks, the way that Jenny withdrew into her own fat laden body. Her grin only got wider. “That’s right,” she purred, “there’s no defence for what you’ve done to yourself. No argument to be made.” The rabbit made a show of looking around. “I don’t see anyone here, stuffing you full of donuts against your will, so this must be what you actually want. To be a big, fat, PIG.”

Each word was another blow, complimented by that sadistic grin of her rival’s, an onslaught against which Jenny had no defence. Deserved no defence. Diane was right. The evil, scheming, backstabbing low-life of a rabbit was right. Jenny had done this to herself on purpose, she had loved every minute of it in the privacy of her own home. Now a light was being shone on it, on her, her own body ballooned by each orgasm fueled stuffing. She didn’t know if she could handle it. But there was nothing she could do - the mouse had fattened herself up so much that just standing would take minutes, what could she do? Run?

“I had no idea this was what you wanted,” Diane continued after shutting the door behind her, walking towards Jenny through the mess of her apartment as though it wasn’t there. “If I’d known, we could have fast tracked you to the mascot path - that is what you want, isn’t it? To be so fucking fat you can’t move? Can’t walk, can barely wiggle your arms. To be so huge the only thing you’re good for is eating. To be a toy. A mascot. Property.”

A sense of inevitability struck Jenny. Diane was walking towards her, and when she arrived the mouse had no idea what would happen. But it couldn’t be good. Would she pinch her cheeks and call her a cow? Take a photo and post it online? Her heart raced so hard she could feel it against her chest, like she might just pass out. The pace of her breathing began to increase and soon Jenny squeezed her eyes shut to close out the world. It was all she could do to listen to the rabbit. To listen to those petite footfalls as she approached, like she was some kind of predator and Jenny the prey. But even as her heart and lungs raced, she couldn’t deny the power of the rabbit’s words. To be a toy. Property. Is that really what I want? It turned her on, she could feel it - the shame of it burned through her.

And then, just as the rabbit’s footfalls stopped short of her, she felt a pressure on her stomach. Not a finger, not a hand, a foot. Diane was stepping on her! Jenny opened her eyes but shut them as a shadow passed over her head, silken threads looped around her blubber thicken neck as she felt what must have been Diane putting her tie over Jenny. She opened her eyes again to see that was in fact the case. Diane was now standing, one foot against Jenny's prodigious stomach, the other on the floor, the end of her tie in hand like it was some kind of leash. She pulled it, slowly drawing it tighter until it tugged Jenny forward, the mouse blushing and confused.

“Well,” Diane purred, her voice almost musical with a delight that shone in her eyes. “If you want to eat like a pig, you need to be fed like a pig. Let’s see how much this stomach of yours can really hold.”