The Impossibility of Impossibilities, Part 4 (Patreon)

The Impossibility of Impossibilities

Part 4

Donna Brooks sat at the front desk, wondering what she should do about the strange man who just invaded the hotel, when a realization struck her. Out of the blue, she realized that she needed a doughnut.

The thought seemed to rise in her mind of its own accord, shoving aside all her more usual thoughts and forcing its way into the foreground of her mind. She thought about how good a soft, warm doughnut covered in sugary glaze would taste.. She tried to force the thought down and focus on her work, but she soon found it sitting there again, more insistent than ever.

No...she couldn't possibly be thinking that! But she was. She knew that she was fighting a losing battle, the thoughts were only getting stronger the more she resisted. She whimpered in defeat as she slowly rose from her seat and headed through the lobby and out the revolving door.

There was a Duncan's Donuts across the street. She had grabbed the occasional bearclaw or fritter from there on her way in to work, on mornings when she had not had the time for a proper breakfast. She tried to avoid it though. She wasn't the fittest woman, and ordering a doughnut always made her feel so self conscious, as though everyone were silently judging her. She entered the cozy interior and took a deep breath. The sweet smell of the glaze and the perfume of the deep fat fryer seemed so much stronger today. Thank goodness there were no other customers here to witness her failure of willpower. Behind the glass case was a girl in her late teens, wearing a red and white uniform.

“Welcome to Duncan's Donuts. What can I do for you?” the girl asked with a cheerful smile. Donna stared at her, her eyes widening as she realized what she was about to do.

“I...I, um... I need...I need a dozen donuts.”  her cheeks reddened as she stuttered the words out.

“Certainly! What kind would you like?” the sales girl seemed totally oblivious to her discomfort.

“Just...you know...an assortment.” Donna replied, her voice dropping.

Within a minute, a pink box full of donuts was in front of her. She fished out her debit card and paid. She opened the box and pulled out a glazed ring.

She stared at it. The smell was overpowering, so sweet and warm. She winced in frustration, trying desperately to resist the deep need welling up inside her. She twisted her willpower around the empty feeling in her stomach. She decided at that moment that she would just leave. Put the doughnut back, walk away, and leave her job and her life far behind. She didn't know where she could go, but she would just walk until all of this was behind her.

She felt her mouth open. She felt her hand move toward her face. She felt her mouth fill with sticky, fluffy joy.

Her lips closed as she she chewed. She could not even process the fact that she had just shoved an entire doughnut into her mouth. Her entire mind was occupied by delicious sugary delight. She moaned with pleasure as her jaws struggled to manage the mass of pastry.

The girl behind the counter stared at her as she began swallowing. Not only had she just eaten a doughnut in one bite, she was clearly enjoying it a lot more openly than was usual. The look of dull relaxation in her eyes as she swallowed the last bit reminded the girl of post-coital bliss.

“Whoa! Be careful there, ma'am. You'll get sick eating that fast!” A look of genuine concern filled the salesgirl's eyes, but it was tinged with amusement. Donna's eyes focused on her as she swallowed the last of the doughnut. The feeling of abject bliss was fading, replaced with an even stronger feeling of need. Her cheeks burned with shame as she spoke.

“Please, I don't want to ask you this, but I need it so badly! Please...” Donna winced. She couldn't say that! The humiliation was so intense! So sweet and intense, like the taste of the doughnut.

The salesgirl stared. This was getting weird. She couldn't tell if this strange woman was having some kind of breakdown, or indulging in some strange fetish. She found her own feelings very confusing. She felt sorry for the woman, but also strangely amused by her plight, and also...shit. She realized with horror that this woman's bizarre behavior was...arousing! How was that even possible?

“I need you to...feed me.” She spat out the words.

“Wh..What?” the salesgirl had no idea how to respond to such a strange request.

“Feed meee! Please! I need to be fed! I need doughnuts shoved in my mouth!”

The salesgirl continued to stare. She didn't understand how this could be possible. She could feel her whole body filling with soft warmth as she saw this woman demanding to be fed doughnuts. Her eyes ran down the woman's body, taking in her chubby thighs and protruding belly. Could she really just...

She picked a maple bar out of the box and carried it around the counter. The woman looked at her with pleading eyes and opened her mouth wide.

The feeling of warmth continued to spread and intensify as she pressed the maple bar into Donna's waiting mouth. Donna gobbled up the pastry as fast as it came, swallowing bite after bite in rapid succession, until she found herself licking the maple icing off the salesgirl's fingers. As soon as she had sucked the last of the sweet glaze off the girl's protruding index finger, she demanded more.

“Ma'am” the salesgirl protested weakly, “I really don't think that this is app...”

“More!” repeated Donna, beginning to pant with desire. “I need it!”

The salesgirl found herself reaching for another doughnut before she had made any conscious choice to do so. Would it really be so bad to just play along with this woman's little game? Or even better...

Her pussy glowed with approval as a wicked thought passed through the salesgirl's mind. She realized that there was no need to let this pushy woman have everything her own way.

“Say please.” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

“Please!” insisted Donna, not pausing for an instant. The salesgirl rewarded her with a honey bun. Encouraged, the salesgirl grabbed a chocolate ring as soon as Donna had finished cleaning her fingers. Donna opened her mouth wide to receive it, but the pastry stopped dead a foot from her gaping mouth.

“Say you're fat.” said the salesgirl. She was grinning openly now.

Donna's face fell. “What?”

“You heard me. You...are...fat.” she tapped the end of Donna's nose to punctuate the words. She was really enjoying herself.

Donna's eyes locked on the chocolate ring in the salesgirl's hand. She imagined how good it would feel to have it in her mouth. She thought for a moment that she could just reach out and take it. It was hers, after all. She had paid for it. But no. She knew that she had no power in this situation. She was in the grip of a force far stronger than herself, and everything would play out as it had been preordained. She opened her mouth.

“I'm fat.” she whispered.

“You sure are.” She said it in a matter-of-fact way.

Donna felt the idea of being fat settle down on her like a vast, warm marshmallow. It was so utterly shameful, so humiliating, and so undeniably wonderful. She opened her mouth and received yet another delicious jelly-filled doughnut as her reward.

The salesgirl felt utter power and complete dominance, and she loved it. She knew exactly what she wanted from Donna, and knew she had the power to take it. She daintily held a fudge-dipped cruller in her hand, liking the feel of the power it gave her.

“You want this so much, don't you?”

“...yes.”

Donna's voice was small, weak, and utterly defeated.

“Hmmm, what shall I make you do for this little treat? I mean, there's literally nothing you wouldn't do, is there?”

Donna didn't want to answer, but she knew she had no choice.

“...no.”

“What is your name?” the salesgirl asked, drinking in the air with every intake of breath.

“...Donna.” She was grateful for a simple request, feeling that much closer to having the sweet softness back in her mouth.

“No.”

The single word was flooded with power. Donna felt it like a heavy slap across her face. Her name was wrong. It had not met with approval. Donna's face fell. She knew that correction of her error was on the way. There was nothing to do but wait and see what else would be taken from her in exchange for that pure, blissful pleasure.

“Your name...is Fatty.”

It was true. Just like that, it was the truth. Fatty knew in the bottom of her soul that her name had never truly been Donna. Donna was just a dream that she was now waking up from. Donna had authority, power, and dignity. Donna had a job, responsibilities, and the respect of her peers. Donna was no more. Now there was just Fatty. Fatty looked at the salesgirl who had once been her social inferior, a new girl, doing her first job in a little shop across the way. Fatty now saw a powerful being, utterly in control of her fate. Her only hope, she knew, was to please this dominant woman in any way she could.

“Hi Fatty.” the salesgirl said. Her voice was warm, welcoming, tinged with sadistic glee.

“...hi...Mistress.”

The catlike smile spread even wider. She knew, in that moment, that she was this woman's Mistress. They were connected, forever, in a bond that was stronger and stranger than love or friendship, but that had qualities of each.

“Yes, I am your Mistress, aren't I?”

“...yes.”

“Yes? Yes what?”

“...yes, Mistress.”

“Very good. Now, since I'm your Mistress, I guess I need to make a few rules for you to unquestioningly obey. Sound good?”

“...yes, Mistress.”

She shoved the cruller into Fatty's waiting mouth. Fatty felt her toes curl as pure joy exploded through her body. The feeling of the crisp, fudgey exterior and soft spongy interior giving way before her teeth as she chewed and chewed and swallowed and licked...

“Well, first of all, you need to know how to properly ask to be fed. It sure is embarrassing to have to ask someone else to feed you, isn't it?”

“yes, Mistress.” Fatty recited the words like a catechism.

“Yes, and that embarrassing moment is going to be your whole life now. No more working and being responsible. Just being humiliated and fed, embarrassed and fed some more. Doesn't that sound lovely?”

“...yes, Mistress.” it really did.

“Well, I'm going to teach you how to do it right. Now that you have a lovely new name, you're going to show it off at every opportunity. Every time you speak, for any reason, you must always refer to yourself, by name, in the third person. Do you understand?”

Fatty took a moment to decode that instruction before finally realizing the correct response.

“Yes, Mistress. Fatty understands.” She felt her cheeks burn.

“There's my good, tubby girl!” said her Mistress, giving her flabby cheek a condescending little pinch. “What you need is a steady diet of embarrassment to go with your steady diet of treats. Ask me to make you even more of an embarrassment, Fatty.”

“...could you make Fatty even more of an embarrassment, Mistress?” The words poured from her mouth.

“What's the magic word?

“Please.”

“Please? Please what?”

Fatty took a deep breath. “Please make Fatty even more of an embarrassment, Mistress.”

“Well... since you asked so nicely...turn around and show your Mistress what a big, blubbery butt you have!”

Fatty found herself slowly and awkwardly turning her back on her new-found mistress. She leaned forward and looped her thumbs into the skirt of her pants-suit, pulling them down to reveal her sizable butt cheeks. Her panties came down next, leaving her derriere on full display. She felt her Mistress' soft hands caress the delicate flesh, then jiggle the cheeks playfully.

“ohhh, just look at my Fatty's little tushie. Not bad, buuut it definitely needs to be bigger. You need a butt that'll make people say “hey, check out the huge butt with a lady behind it!”

Fatty felt her Mistress' words settle over with a faint buzz. There was no doubt in her mind now that this salesgirl owned her: body and soul. It did not even surprise her to feel her butt begin to swell outward in her Mistress' hand. She felt the weight of her expanding cheeks tug at her backside.

“Much better! Now it's time to give you some nice new clothes to match. Now let's see...what could you wear to make sure everyone who sees you laughs at you?

Fatty felt the urge to resist her mistress's words, but she knew that she must not. The power in that voice was absolute. She closed her eyes and tried to think of the most humiliating outfit she could imagine. Even as her mind went to work she knew that it was her fate to wear it. It was unavoidable. She felt the fabric of her clothing rearranging itself even as her imagination worked.

She opened her eyes and looked at herself. Sure enough, her dignified suit had been replaced with a vibrant pink tank-top with the word “Fatty” emblazoned across it. Her feet were bare, her soft legs were exposed for all to see. But by far, the star of the show was her new diaper. Triple thick and decorated with cuddly images of cartoon pigs and hippos. Her soft belly spilled over the plastic waist guards. She turned her gaze toward her mistress.

“Do Fatty's clothes please you, Mistress? She asked. She was surprised to find that she really did want her Mistress to be pleased.

“I love it Fatty” she said with a smile. Fatty felt her heart leap with joy. Her Mistress was smiling. She basked in that smile. She knew that from now on, her purpose in life was to make her mistress smile. Even if it was the smile of a cat who had just cornered a terrified mouse.

“I especially like those new undies of yours. Tell me: why have you put yourself in a diaper?”

“Fatty thinks a diaper is the most humiliating thing to wear. It tells the whole world that Fatty is a big baby who can't control herself, Mistress.”

“Fantastic. I think your costume needs only a few little touches to be complete. First, a diaper is a pretty embarrassing thing to wear, but not so much if you chose to wear it yourself. If, on the other hand, you were wearing it because you obviously needed it...”

Fatty felt a powerful gurgling in her guts. Those donuts she had shoved down were suddenly not sitting so comfortably. She felt a fart escape her butt cheeks as she clenched. She was suddenly in very real danger of losing control!

“Mistress, please. Fatty needs a..a..”

“Bathroom? Is that what my silly little Fatty was about to say? I don't think you need anything of the kind. In fact, I don't think you'd even know what to do with one. Think about it, Fatty. Have you ever used a toilet?”

“Of course I... wait, no! Mistress please, don't take away Fatty's potty training!

“Sorry Fatty, but your costume just isn't complete without a fully untrained butt to helplessly pump gallons of stinky poopies into those lovely diapers of yours!

“Mistress... I can't hold it!”

“ You sure can't. That's why you have be pampered at all times! Now, tell Mistress why she has to keep you in diapers.”

Fatty found her mouth and her butt open and begin to spew, both entirely beyond her control.

“Oooohhh...I need to...oohhh...be kept in diapers... because I'm a great big baby! I poop my pants! I never learned to use the big-girl potty! Oooohhh here comes a big load of shit to cake my big blubbery butt! I make poopies in my diapees!”

“That's right! Good job, Fatty!” said her Mistress, giving her enormous loaded butt a hearty slap. “All you can do from now on is make big, smelly loads in your huge pampers! I am going to shove sweets in your mouth, wipe your big butt, and humiliate you over and over for the rest of your life! How does that sound, Fatty?”

Fatty moaned with pleasure as she felt the enormous load she had just made squish around in her pampers. Her dignity had just been absolutely torn to shreds, and all she felt inside was warm, gooey pleasure, as though her soul was made of marshmallow.

“Thank you so much, Mistress! Fatty loves being yours!” she answered happily.

Mistress took Fatty's unresisting hand in hers and walked out of the shop. She couldn't wait to show everyone her chubby new slave.