Free Donuts Part 5 (Patreon)

Katie's old life comes to an end, but when one door closes, another opens.

Written and Illustrated by myself

Edited under duress by the marvelous Firefox 

- - - 

After Katie had eaten everything within her limited range of motion, she found herself somewhat serene, despite the fact that she had rendered herself utterly immobile and quite helpless. It didn’t quite matter. Not really. She still had free donuts. Everything else would work itself out in time. 

She groped blindly for where her laptop had slid down the side of her gut and was thankfully still able to reach it. Her gut was a proper table now, pushing her legs apart and drooping far enough to be tickling the sides of her feet. Slick with sweat and crumbs as it was, it was still able to adequately hold her laptop. She scrolled down her list of contacts - none of them would understand her situation. Old friends, family, each of them would tell her to stop eating the donuts. Exercise. Diet. There would be straps and harnesses just to move her around, and after all the humiliation, at the end of all of it; 

There would be.

No.

Donuts. 

And that was unacceptable. 

So she found the Sifton company support number. 

***

“That was faster than expected,” a diminutive mouse chirped from beside a well dressed wolf. 

Both stand in a darkened room where the only light came from computer monitors with fancy graphs on them. She made a note on her clipboard before looking expectantly at the wolf.

“Do you doubt our product, Miss Koda?” 

It had been scant minutes since news of the phonecall had reached the wolf, one of Sifton’s chief executive officers, and he had yet to stop grinning. Yet his question came with a barb in its tone. 

The mouse, Miss Koda, jumped with a squeak and took a step backwards. “N-not at all sir! S-sifton’s work is too amazing to be doubted!”

The wolf’s grin became a little wider. “Good. Now let’s initiate phase three on our subject here.” The mouse nodded and hastily scrawled something else down on her clipboard before turning to leave the dimly lit room. “Oh and Miss Koda?”

She stopped dead in her tracks, dread creeping down her spine.

“Sign yourself up for testing of our latest batch. Can’t have our own employees doubting what we can do, now can we?”

After a sharp intake of breath, the small mouse girl nodded. “N-no sir,” she mumbled, before adjusting her glasses and walking out of the room.

***

Executive types were a dime a dozen. Katie knew that even before she shut herself off from the outside world. Memories of snappily dressed men in suits strutting around the city resurfaced quickly though, as she had become quickly surrounded by what seemed to be one of the higher ups of the Sifton company, a handful of lawyers, and a chubby, crumb laden mouse with a clipboard. Ordinarly she would be mortified to have so many people in her home while she was both naked and completely, helplessly immobile, but the more pressing concern was that she hadn’t eaten a donut in over four hours and her massive gut was making most distressed noises as a result. The glazed sweets were at the forefront of her mind, frequently drowning out the conversation going on around her. Which was just as well since very little of the conversation seemed to involve her directly. 

“This is the candidate?”

“Mhm.”

“And advertising signed off on this?”

“Are you second guessing me?”

“No! No, just... making sure I have all the facts.”

Katie half listened. She couldn’t help but hope they had brought more donuts for her. They promised they would bring more donuts, when she called the helpline. The mouse looked like she had been eating donuts. Her pot belly was practically bursting through an otherwise good looking blouse. She shifted uncomfortably with a look that Katie knew well. A craving for donuts. She hoped the donuts would arrive soon. The vixen herself had become uncomfortably hot. The door had been left open and that meant that her air conditioner was blowing all the cool air out of her house, and not onto her massive, roll laden body. Where she had been sweating before, now a pool of sweat had formed around her. One which most of the suit laden people were avoiding. That, too, would have embarrassed her were the more pressing matter of her lack of donuts not occupying most of her mind. But some part of her, some part that still recognised what she had become and what she was doing to herself was undeniably burning with a pleasurable sensation. Images floated to her mind of how completely impractical sex had become in her current body. Harnesses would have to be involved, perhaps. That alone made her squirm with pleasure, a blush coating her cheeks. At some point during these thoughts, she realised someone was trying to talk to her, and her blush deepened.

“Miss Katie? Katie?” 

The wolf was standing over her, his polished shoes no doubt standing in the pool formed of her own sweat. It was the closest any of them had gotten to her since they arrived. 

“Ah good, now I have your attention,” the wolf began to pace around her, drinking in her body with an appreciation she had not seen before, “I understand that you are in a bit of a predicament, in regards to your mobility and,” he paused, “independence.” 

She blushed and nodded, squirming ever so slightly. She wondered how she had allowed things to get this far.

The wolf too, nodded and began to walk around her in the other direction, “I am given to understand you are jobless as well, and that your financial situation is thus unfavourable.” 

Once again, she nodded. She was too fat to move, let alone find work.

“I have come here today, to offer you a position.” The wolf said, coming at last to a stop in front of her. In his smile was the predator that he was.

Katie worked enough saliva into her mouth to ask, “W-what kind of work?” 

She realised her situation. She didn’t have a lot of luxury when it came to choice, and she couldn’t imagine many positions she would be able to adequately fulfil given her condition. All she really wanted, was more donuts.

“Advertising.” 

***

Day 89

The cool air from the AC blew over Katie’s mostly naked body, alleviating some of the intense heat radiating from her heavily fat-insulated body. Her massive gut was cradled almost entirely from beneath in comfortable cushions which were cleaned nightly of crumbs and sweat stains, her love handles folding over her legs. In the recent month or two, they had ballooned outwards, swelling around her until she began to resemble the treat she continued to enjoy. But she didn’t care. She didn’t care that she now weighed more or less double what she had when the executives had come to visit. Nor did she care that her asscheeks alone were each larger than she was when she had first won the promotion. 

Around her the buzz of Sifton’s semi-new Bakery and Eatery continued like it did most days, with her at the center of it. She sat in a large, circular, cushioned pit where she was able to watch TV or enjoy a laptop, each mounted on long arms she could maneuver in front of her, or to the sides when she was done, but she rarely used either anymore. Especially not during opening hours.

She was, after all, the main attraction.

Sifton Donuts had been written in dye across the massive expanse of her lower stomach roll. It was partially hidden by the cushions that surrounded her but nobody who saw it failed to recognise what it was. A sifton brand, custom made shirt wrapped around her massive breasts, made to be easy to wash and comfortable despite the sweat she would work up during the day. A sign had been erected behind her with large letters saying, “Feed Katie! The Sifton Donuts Mascot!” Smaller letters beneath declared, “If she likes them this much, you can be sure you will too!” Some bright spark had even painted her fur to make it look like donut jelly was leaking from her navel.

Everything was very weight positive. The bakery and diner was attended routinely by bigger folk, who were able to take comfort in the dual facts that not only were they not the biggest person in the room for once, but that the biggest person in the room seemed to be having a ball of things.

Katie was constantly attended to by customers who wanted her to try this, and that. Donuts, pastries, even whole meals. She hadn’t understood what a ‘feeder’ was until she accepted her new position but she quickly learned, and even faster came to enjoy it. She had already found a few regulars who she discovered delighted in testing her limits which, these days, were considerable and the idea of it alone gave her a giddy little thrill. Even the mouse who accompanied the executives that one day stopped in now and then. Every visit she was a little bigger and just recently her gut had started hanging down to her knees. She kept Katie company from time to time and Katie heard one of the bakers talking about a ‘dual mascot situation’ at one point, which was a matter of curiosity which she intended to ask the mouse about. 

Now that she had her financial independence, there were a number of things she thought she might like to pursue. Sex not least among them, given she now knew that people enjoyed her size as much as she was coming to enjoy it herself. And a small team of personal attendants who also seemed to enjoy her had told her they were happy to assist in any task, no matter how personal it might be. The possibilities, thus, were endless.

But for now, she was sated.

She had donuts.