Cheeky XII (Patreon)

Note: This is a story-prompt for Ryan Caday.

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Carrie waddled into the restaurant, grateful for the wide double-door entrance. People gasped and stumbled back at the sight of her, shocked by Carrie’s momentous ass is it rocked and jiggled with her waddle.

It was because people instinctively cleared the way for her, or otherwise found themselves shoved aside by Carrie’s ass, that Carrie found herself at the front of the line. She gripped onto the counter, gasping for breath as a cashier stood there looking baffled.

“Hi,” Carrie managed, face flushed, chest heaving. “Can I…can I have…oh wow…that one looks good too… It’s so hard to choose,” she admitted as her belly grumbled. She scrunched her face and groaned. “Just give me one of everything on the menu,” Carrie said, hoping that Sid was willing to give her a loan. “And extra fries.”

The door jingled, signaling Sid’s arrival. Carrie hurriedly waved him over just as the cashier finished ringing her up.

“That’ll be $360.42.”

Carrie gave Sid an entreating look. “Pleassse Sid. Will you treat me? C’mon Sid, come onnnn.”

Frowning, Sid pulled out his wallet. Carrie grinned and made her way over to a table.

The aroma of french fries was just maddening. God, she was hungry. Carrie tried to hold it together as she waited for her food to be prepared. She studied the chairs for a while before pushing two together, and very carefully, easing her backside down. The chairs strained and creaked, and Carrie crossed her fingers. Thankfully they held up like the chairs at school, though they came nowhere close to accommodating the full area of her ass. Her flanks were left to bulge over the sides.

Sid came over to the table and pulled up a chair beside her. “My credit card is just for emergencies. My parents are going to killme.” But he grinned. “I can’t deny I like watching you eat, Carrie.”

A pimply employee arrived with a tray loaded with fast food. “This is the first part of your order. I’ll bring more out as we finish preparing it.” A long line had formed at the counter, customers grumbling and checking their watches.

“Oh god, yes,” Carrie breathed as she ripped the paper off a triple-cheeseburger and immediately started gnawing on it.

The pimply employee gave her a disturbed look as he stumbled back and hurried off.

Carrie ate her way through the large variety of burgers, stuffing down one after the next. They were so greasy and chewy, so soft and processed, she could practically gulp them down without chewing. They were heavy and filling as they settled in her ass, exacerbating the bloated feeling till it ached. Yet Carrie kept eating, stuffing down more and more. There were fried chicken and fish sandwiches, beef, mushroom, and vegetarian burgers, cheese steaks, grilled cheeses, sloppy joes, hotdogs, corndogs, chilidogs, and a bunch more cheeseburgers, all loaded with different toppings, ranging from bacon, ranch, fried eggs, sausages, mushrooms, tater tots, cheese curds, and more. They all dripped grease and sauces, each bite more delicious than the last one. By the time Carrie ate her way through the sandwiches, two more trays had arrived, one loaded with varying desserts, milkshakes, and ice creams, while the other was piled with all the sides dishes the restaurant had to offer, from chicken nuggets to french fries, wraps, mozzarella sticks, and more.

Carrie got to work, feeling more stuffed than ever, yet forcing down more. She yelped as a loud fart tore out of her backside, the swollen cheeks trembling. Other customers threw her disgusted books. Carrie reddened and looked down in shame.

“Don’t worry about it Carrie, go to town,” Sid advised.

So Carrie did. She sucked her way through vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry milkshakes, then gobbled down a chocolate sundae, following this up with several sodas that left her so gassy she was holding her chest as belch after belch came up her throat.

Another fart tore out of her ass, this one even louder. “Oh gosh,” she said, flushing with embarrassment. Her backside just felt immense, practically throbbing beneath her.

“I think it’s hot,” Sid winked, encouraging.

“Oh shut up,” Carrie retorted, though he had lightened the mood enough that she went back to work on the food, practically choking on the mozzarella sticks, desperate to get them down her throat.

The chair creaked ominously, but Carrie ignored it, because she just couldn’t stop. She needed all the food down. She practically inhaled the three baskets of french fries, each crispy, oily, and fucking delicious. Grease and sauces were running down her chin. She groaned as her backside ached and throbbed, pulsating with heat and growth. “Ngghhhhh…”

“Keep going,” Sid insisted.

Before Carrie could grab up the last fry, a man arrived at the table. He was wearing a grease-stained button-down, the pin on his shirt reading Manager.

“Miss, you’re disturbing the other customers. We’re going to have to ask you to leave,” he said.

“B-but—” Carrie tried to get the last fry into her mouth.

“Out!” the manager shrieked, and several beefy security guards descended on the scene.