Stretching Out Scrubs (Patreon)

Author's Note:This is a short story for JayKuma's OC, Cassie! You can check out more of her on his page here! https://www.deviantart.com/jaykuma/

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“Sooooooo... whatcha doing?” 

Cassie looked up from her computer to see the bright grinning face of her co-worker, Ripley. She’d been typing up patient reports for the latest admittance all day and was not in the mood to be bothered. Especially by this happy-go-lucky newbie nitwit whose dumbass parents had named after a butch in a 70s horror flick. 

She returned to her typing, asking in a deadpan voice, “What do you want, Ripley?” 

The cheery redhead leaned over the counter, trying to peek at the green-stained monitor. “Are ya playing solitaire or something?” 

“No.” 

“Mine sweeper?” 

“No.” 

“I was always more of a Freecell girl myself.” 

“That’s great to know.” Cassie sighed, reaching for another sugary blow pop from her purple container and sagging back on her seat. The roller chair cried as if it were being crushed by a whale... which, for all intents and purposes, the American woman could be mistaken. 

To say Cassie was a big girl was sort of comparing the curves of the Moon to the swell of the Earth. While similarly shaped, you could probably fit multiple of one into the frame of the other, and she’d still have room to fill with a few extra desserts. It would desperately fail to capture the scope of just how big Cassie’s moon could be. 

Her hips weren’t just curvy, they were audacious. She had to personally take off the armrests of every chair at the nursing station, just to save herself the trouble. This was, however, proving to have only been a temporary fix. Steel screws were being crushed under the strain of her fat ass, and very recently one of the staff members that handled the employee uniforms was complaining that she’d need to start stitching two pairs of pants together just to cover Cassie’s cheeks.

She liked to blame her girlfriend, Grace, for her skyrocketing weight, but inside she knew the fact of the matter was that her own plan was just backfiring on her. Surrounding her tubby girlfriend with as much food as she could meant that she was also corrupted by sweets, and she hadn’t even been skinny to start with. 

So, when her chair cried out beneath her excess blubber, Cassie felt a momentary fear that was sated only after she settled and the support didn’t snap. Unfortunately, not much could sate her hunger... nor her annoyance. 

“Riplah, ‘or ‘eal,” she mumbled around her fat sucker, flexing her hands through her merlot colored hair to tighten her ponytail. She removed the lollipop, holding it casually. “I’m busy. Is there something you actually need?” 

The redhead’s grin faltered. “Umm... sorry, kinda yeah.” She put her chart up on the counter, sliding it over. “Mrs. Orwell said she would like some help to go for a walk. To help with her lungs.” 

Cassie pursed her lips. “So?” 

“Well... ahhh, she said she didn’t want me to help, and told me... Ahh, ooof,” she was blushing. “Umm...”

Cassie waited. 

“She asked me to get the, uhhh, ‘piggy-nurse.’” Ripley was cringing. “She said, and I’m quoting! Uhh, ‘she needs the exercise just as much as I do.’” 

Cassie replaced the sucker in her mouth. 

She couldn’t be sure, as she was trying not to let the blush get to her, but it felt like the hard candy might be quickly melting from the internalized boiling rage. 

After a few moments thought, she asked, “And what makes you think that ‘the piggy nurse’ is referring to me?” 

Ripley’s eyes went wide. The glance down at the rolling hills that made up Cassie’s thighs was impossible to miss. “W-well, umm... it’s cause... uhh.... you’re the... uhh...”

The sucker very loudly snapped as Cassie’s teeth cracked it open. She hadn’t even really tasted the grape flavor until a stream of sweetened sugar trickled down her throat, the chewy gum breaking free of the container and her teeth begun mashing, breaking up the rest. 

“Well, you’re sort of... you know... ummm...” 

“Do I look as fat as a ‘piggy,’ Newbie?” 

“W-well, no. You’re bigger than a pig.” 

Cassie reached for another sucker and tossed it at Ripley. 

The young lady screamed, shielding her face. “P-pigs are only like four feet long! Of course you’re bigger!!” 

Cassie rose up out of her smooshed chair, the heat in her cheeks causing her to miss the loud cry of relief. “You go tell Mrs. Orwell that you’ve no idea what nurse she’s talking about!” the piggy-nurse demanded, throwing another sucker. 

Ripley yelped as the sucker struck the small of her back as she rushed down the stark white hall and away from the station. 

Cassie hadn’t realized she’d swallowed her gum but felt immensely more irritated when she realized it was gone. She snatched another sucker from her cup and ripped the wrapper off. “Frikin’ boomer woman,” she mumbled, referring to Mrs. Orwell. “Has no idea what she’s talking about. I’m not even that fat.” 

Her chair, which had been praising the lord of all seats for lifting its burden, was suddenly cast into horror as the shadow descended upon its unseeing face. It cried in forsaken pain before the support pillar snapped cleanly in two and Cassie was sent with a tumbling scream down to the ground. 

It was lucky that she had so much padding to fall on.