I sometimes like to think about how I could eventually get so big to the point where I’m completely dependent on someone else. It’s only a dream, but hopefully one day it will come true.
It all starts when I move in with that special one, unaware about the plan they have for me. I’d only be slightly chubby at that point but they’d quickly change that, sneaking double cream into everything I eat and teasing me with sweet desserts. As my thighs start rubbing and my small pot belly turns into a soft fat overhang I submit to my cravings, allowing the portions to get bigger and for them to shovel sweet pastries and greasy burgers into my mouth as part of our midnight antics. On days off they’d surprise me with a massive breakfast in bed, taking three trips to the kitchen to bring over. After completing the mountain of sausages, bacon, beans, mushrooms, fried toast and hash browns they’d join me in bed to provide belly rubs and play with my new found chub as I lazily submit to the ever growing weight on my figure and fall into yet another bliss food coma. As my waist size rockets and my body jiggles further with every (short) stride, I get more tired from the simplest of tasks from getting out of the car to climbing the stairs. With my fat thighs turning into folds of lard and my belly becoming so big it puts my crotch out of reach, I start relying on them to join me in the shower to reach the parts of my massive frame that I can no longer reach. One day, after struggling to fit into a set of strained sweatpants and leaving my belly swaying out below a stretched white t-shirt, they watch me try to make my way through the bedroom door. After initially failing due to my massive wide hips I try sideways, eventually getting my massive ass cheeks and huge belly stuck in the door frame. They help push me out, and with me out of breath they pinch the fat between my belly button and the bottom of my overhang and pull my back into bed. They whisper into my ear “Don’t worry, I’ve got you”, and run off to come back with a mountain of burgers, donuts and other fatty treats. My days are then spent bound to my bed, the sheer weight of my humongous obese frame keeping me down. As I struggle to lift my arms for the sea of fat hanging off them they feed me more and more, becoming totally immobile and totally dependent on them. The days are spent shovelling more food, double cream and lard into my stomach and the nights are spent being used as a mattress by them, kneading my huge fat rolls like dough. All I live for is to eat for their pleasure, a stimulus I cannot shake off leading to my hands and feet disappearing in fat and becoming a huge lard mattress for them to enjoy.
So, breakfast at work is 7am till 9:15am. You are allowed 1 rasher of bacon, 1sausage and either 1 fried egg or portion of scrambled egg. Yeah, people swap the sausage for bacon or vice versa. Basically, you’re allowed any three items. Then there’s as much beans, tomatoes, hash browns, fried bread, cereal, fresh fruit, danish pastries, toast and drinks as you want.
Now, 7:20am comes along. There’s about two people eating, and two other staff.
A middle-aged lady in expensive shit comes.
Me: “Morning! How’re you doing. Early, isn’t it haha?”
Lady: “Yeah. Hunh.”
M: *blinks* “What can I get for you today?”
L: “Scrambled egg. Bacon. Sausage.”
M: *puts bacon on first, then sausage and then S.E* “Is that enought for you?”
L: *silent glare*
M: “Alright, well help yourself to everything on the next servery, there’s also toast, fruit and cereal to your right and the beverage station is on the far wall. The cutlery is just over on the trolley with all the pots.” *tries to hand plate over*
L: “I want another one. I said scrambled, bacon, sausage.”
M: *checks plate* Yes, that what you have.“
L: “No, you put it on in the wrong order. Do another one and get it right, you stupid girl. Do you not have an education to get a real job?”
M: “Actually, Madam, I have a BTEC diploma in Health and Social care with focus on caring for the elderly, but I like to work here and meet new people every day.”
L: “Are you calling me old? I want to see your manager!”
M: “Of course.” *calls over co-worker*
CW (P) “What’s wrong?”
L: “She called me old and refused to serve me.”
M: P, she asked for scrambled, bacon and sausage. I put the meat on first, then the egg. She then belittled me for apparently not putting it on in the right order.“
P: *sorts situation, tells me to have a drink.*
So that’s how I got yelled at for not putting breakfast on in the order they said.
peeled and diced some Yukon gold potatoes. placed them into a glass bowl (or large microwave safe bowl), covered with plastic wrap and partially cooked (par-cooked) them for 6 minutes in the microwave or until they were able to be pierced with a fork without falling apart. heated some grape seed oil in a medium skillet along with dried parsley (to help it bloom). I seasoned the potatoes generously with kosher salt, granulated garlic, granulated onion, sweet paprika, and a small amount of Italian seasoning. I cooked them until the outsides were very crisp. I placed the cooked potatoes on a paper towel lined plate to soak up any excess oil.