textfiles/sex/EROTICA/M/m-reveng.txt

Archive-name: Fetish/m-reveng.txt
Archive-author: Cal Stephens
Archive-title: Millie's Revenge


     Millie  came through the door of the small diner  with  her 
cute  double chin almost dragging on her shoes.  I  knew  without 
being told what was bothering her.  Millie was suffering  through 
what  every  19  year  old  fat  girl  goes  through.    Constant 
ridicule from the other girls her age.  I wished I could make her 
believe how attractive she was.  At 5'3" and 185 pounds, with her 
flowing black hair framing the face of a cherub, she would of had 
no shortage of dates.  But our town was as bad as anywhere in the 
country when it came to fat phobia.  I tried to cheer her up with 
some light chatter as she punched inn for her afternoon shift.  
     "Thanks for trying, Bob, but nothing can cheer me up  today.  
That  bitch  Tracy."  In a halting voice she told me  how  Tracy 
Rozen,   the  head  cheerleader  for  the  junior   collage   had 
embarrassed  her in front of the whole school.  There had been  a
pep rally after school, and Tracy had done something to  Millie's 
uniform so that when she did one of the routines, the back of her 
skirt  and  panty combination had split open, causing  Millie  to 
moon  the whole student body.  As the flood of tears  escaped,  I 
put my arms around her for comfort.  
     "I'll get even with that bitch.  I wish I could cause her to 
get fat!"  she sobbed into my shoulder.  We finished the rest  of 
our  shift without much other conversation.  I silently wished  I 
could do something to help Millie.
     The  following Saturday a knock on my office door gave  rise 
to  an  idea that would eventually grant Millie her  revenge.   I 
opened  the door to see Tracy Rozen standing there shuffling  her 
feet uneasily.  
     "Hi Tracy.  What brings you here so early on a Saturday?" I 
asked.
     "Hi  Mister Peters.  I was wondering.... er  thinking....  I 
mean, I need a job." she stuttered.  She went on to tell me  that 
in order for her to start collage next fall she had to earn 2/3's 
of her tuition, and her parents just kicked her out of the house, 
so  she  needed money, and that Millie had told her that   I  was 
looking of a new window girl.  
     I almost sent her away without thinking.  Then it dawned  on 
me  what Millie was talking about.  Sharon, my old  window  girl, 
was leaving in two weeks.  I told her I would be willing to  give 
her  a trial period, and to come back at 3:00 to start  training.  
Smiling,  she  thanked me and left.  I sat at my desk  trying  to 
figure  out what Millie was planning.  After all, she hated  that 
girl,  but she still sent her here for a job.  I didn't  have  to 
think long.  Millie bounded through my door, a big smile adorning 
her chubby face, making her dimples even more prominent.
     "Well?" she asked expectantly.....
     "Well, what?" I teased.
     "Did you hire her.  Did you hire Tracy?"
     "Yeah, I did, but you really have me puzzled.  I thought you 
hated her, and the next thing I know you send her in for  a  job.  
It just doesn't make sense."
     Millie  plopped her plump derriere on my desk and  began  to 
explain  her  plan to me.  I listened intently to  her  plan  of 
revenge.   I  couldn't  help but get excited  by  the  fiendishly 
clever idea Millie presented to me.
     "It just might work," I told her. "Now get out of here so I 
can  make some phone calls.  I'll have  everything on my end  set 
by  3:00.  See you then."  She turned and left, the round  globes 
of her butt rolling seductively in her tight jeans.  Between  her 
description  of what she had planned for Tracy, and the sight  of 
Tracy  in jeans I knew would be unwearable in a few weeks, I  had 
quite an erection to will down.  It took the rest of the  morning 
to make the calls that would set the rest of Millie's scheme into  
place.  When I was done I sat back to await the start of Millie's 
revenge.
     Millie showed up for work that afternoon a half hour before 
her shift would start.  She looked happier than I had seen her in 
months.  
     "Is  everything all set, Bob?"  She asked with a smile  that 
covered her whole face, and would have melted the hardest heart.
     "Yep," I answered.  "I've been on the phone all morning  and 
everything  is ready to go.  I was able to get a hold of   a  few 
friends  at the university, and they said they would be  able  to 
help and, I am going to put you in charge of training Tracy.  One 
thing though, I would wait about a week or so until school is out 
before  you go whole hog with Tracy.  You wouldn't want to  scare 
her off."  
     Millie  chuckled at the mention of going whole  hog.   "If 
everything  goes  right, she'll be a hog soon  enough."   Millie 
giggled again.
     It  wasn't long before Tracy showed up.  I took her  in  the 
office  and did the normal paper work for a new  employee.   Then 
explained  the rules for the diner, and what was expected of  her 
as  the window person.  She couldn't have been happier.  I  think 
if  I  had told her part of her job was to clean the  john's  she 
would have gladly accepted.  When I told her that Millie would be 
in  charge  of  he training, she balked for a  minute,  but  then 
agreed.   I called Millie in and told her to take Tracy  out  and 
get her started.  
     For the rest of that day and into the week I watched  Tracy.  
She  caught on fairly quickly, and  at one point I almost had  a 
twinge of guilt over what was going to happen to her.  But I  let 
it  pass  quickly.  I was as anxious as Millie to see  her  plot 
start to take effect.  Wednesday afternoon I got a call from  the 
university, so I wasn't surprised when Tracy come into see me.
     "Uhh...  Mister Peters... Could I talk to you for a  minute?  
I've got a problem."
     "Sure Tracy.  And please, call me Bob.  I wanted to talk  to 
you today anyway.  But you go first.  It looks like something  is 
bothering you," I answered.
     "Well...  Uhh.. I got a letter from the university  today," 
she stammered.  "It seems like there's  some kind of problem with 
my scholarship, so I really need to keep this job.  I mean,  I'll 
do  anything... I really mean anything to keep it."  She  shifted 
her  weight in order to accent the thrust of her hips, and  stuck 
her boyish breasts in my direction.
     "Well,  that's  what I was going to talk to  you  about."  I 
said, knowing the bait was taken.  Now it was up to me to set it.  
"I've been watching  you this week, and I really don't  know...." 
I  paused a moment and looked up at her to see if she was  buying 
it.   I saw the tears starting to form in her blue eyes before  I 
continued.   "You know that this is really a small diner,  and  I 
can't  afford to have a lot of waste, and I've noticed  that  you 
have been throwing a lot of stuff away, and that costs me money," 
I told her sternly.
     "But Bob, er Mister Peters.  I made some mistakes with  the 
orders, and the customers wouldn't take  them, and I didn't  know 
what  else  to do with them.  I'm sorry," she cried.   "It  won't 
happen  again.  I really need to keep this job.  Please  give  me 
another chance."
     The  hook  was  set.  All I had to do was  reel  it  in.   I 
pretended  to be deep in thought.  "Well, I really shouldn't,"  I 
answered her, "But seeing how you're new, I'll give you  another 
chance.  But just to make sure you'll be more careful, I'm  going 
to  add  another rule.  no more throwing away any food.   If  you 
make  a mistake in an order, you eat it."  The look of  shock  on 
her face was as if she had been slapped.
     "I  can't do that," she shot back. "Suppose I make a lot  of 
mistakes.  What will that do to my figure?"  I told her that  was 
her  decision,  but  if she didn't agree, I would  have  to  find 
someone  else  to  do the job.  Reluctantly, she  agreed  to  the 
condition, and left the office.  I waited until she went on break 
to  tell Millie that Tracy was working under new  rules.   Millie 
couldn't  have been happier.  Everything was going  according  to 
plan.  
     I  watched  Tracy  the rest of the week  and  she  was  very 
careful to try and not make any mistakes.  Still she was  obliged 
to  eat one or two burgers and desserts each shift.   School  was 
going to be out on Friday, and if  what Millie told me was true, 
Tracy's food intake would start to multiply rapidly.   It  seemed 
that  Tracy had made quite a few enemies in her senior year,  and 
Millie  was  going to make sure that each of them would  know  of 
Tracy's job description.
     They  started  coming in the next weekend.  One  or  two  a 
shift would come in and place a larger order.  Maybe two burgers, 
fries, and a large shake; or a large triple dip sundae, and  when 
Tracy would bring it to the window, they would change the  order.  
I  walked  out into the take-out area to see her sitting  in  the 
stool  with three double cheese burgers and a half  eaten  banana 
split on the  counter in front of her.
     "It  looks  like your not having a very good day,"  I  said, 
indicating the food in front of her.
     "It's not me," she protested.  "I get the order's right, and 
then the kids change their minds.  These aren't my mistakes."  I 
told  her that she must have misunderstood and she should try  to 
listen  a little better.  Then went on to remind her of  the  old 
saying  "The  customer  is  always aright."   She  looked  at  me 
sullenly,  and finished the banana split, and started in  on  the 
cheese burger.  Smiling to myself, I went out to see Millie.
     "It's  starting to work!  Did you see her uniform?"   Millie 
asked  excitedly.  "The top is starting to get tight.   You  know 
she  never ate much before, so this fast food is going to  really 
pack  it on her."  I told Millie I had seen the changes, but  she 
was  starting to get the idea she was being set up.  I  suggested 
Millie  work the window for a few days to show her that she  must 
be making mistakes.
     The weeks slowly progressed, and by the middle of July,  the 
impact  on  Tracy  started to show.   Her  uniform  was  becoming 
increasingly strained from the the forced over eating.  She still 
had  a  basically slim shape, and weighed in the  area  of  135 
pounds.   But  due to her daily over eating,  she  had  developed 
quite  a  pot  belly.  This was enhanced by  the  design  of  her 
uniform  pants.  In spite of her overall thinness, the  sight  of 
her  growing  pot  encased in denim stretched  to  the  point  of 
rending  was a  constant source of excitement to me.  I  finished 
making  a visual inspection of her progress and returned  to  may 
office to make a call.  I had to make sure the pressure from  the 
university  stayed  on.  My friend assured me  that  Tracy  would 
continue  to have problems with her tuition so she would need  to 
keep her job.  
     Word  was  really  spreading about  Tracy's  job.   She  was 
spending  more and more time eating.  By the end of July  it  was 
painfully evident that she had to be re-fitted for a new uniform.  
The denim pants had been stretched so much by her swelling paunch 
that  when  her apron was off, you could see  glimpses  of  nylon 
where  the side seams separated.  Her top had begun to  cut  into 
the soft flesh of her rounding upper arms.  As she approached 150 
pounds,  her face was starting to soften, her sunken cheeks  were 
gone.
     During  one  of my inspections of the take-out area,  I  was 
stunned  to find Tracy seated at the counter.  Piled in front  of 
her  was a mound of greasy burgers that would have fed  at  least 
six  people.  She was engrossed in the food in front of her  that 
she didn't even know I had came in.  Millie was dividing her time 
between  working the window and refilling Tracy's shake cup.   I 
took Millie aside and asked her what was going on.  She told me, 
with  a grin, that Tracy had come in and mumbled something  about 
school, and started eating.  I went over to her and tapped her on 
the  shoulder.   She  turned around; cheeks  bulging  with  food, 
grease  running down her chins, and dribbling on to her  swelling 
boobs.
     I  asked her what was going on with the food.   She  mumbled 
back,  with  her  mouth full of meat, that she  had  just  gotten 
another  letter  from  the collage, and that there  was  still  a 
problem with her scholarship, and she was felling depressed.
     Half-way  through  August I startled to look at Tracy  in  a 
whole  new light.  The 180 pounds she carried on her 4'10"  frame 
looked  like  at least 40 pounds more than it  was.   Her  always 
loaded  stomach rolled out over the waistband of her sweats,  her 
proportions  having out grown the largest denims I had to  offer.  
Her  upper arms rounded and began to crease over her elbows,  and 
through  the  fabric of her pants, you could see the  dimples  of 
cellulite  on  her  thighs  and  bulging  derriere.   Yet,   she 
continued to gorge herself at every opportunity, and Millie  was 
always  there to help.  As for me, I found myself more  and  more 
captivated  by Tracy's daily binges, a fact that wasn't  lost  on 
Millie, because she had started eating more also.
     At  the  Labor Day picnic both girls had  entered  into  an 
unspoken  eating  contest in order to gain my  attentions.   Both 
girls  now weighed over 200 pounds, and each was special  in  her 
own  figure.   I  started over at picnic table  where  they  were 
seated  across  form  each other.  Millie had  a  pile  of  fried 
chicken  in  front of her that was over-shadowed by  her  immense 
boobs.  Millie had grown fat all over.  Rounded face,  framed  by 
thick flowing hair that cascaded down her broad and fleshy  back.   
The fabric of her tee-shirt was stretched over her like a  second 
skin,  allowing  you to see every fold and roll of  her  fabulous 
body.   Her arms had grown so laden with flesh that  the  ribbing 
of her short sleeves was swallowed up by a ridge of fat.  Collops 
and  love  handles  peeked out seductively between  her  tee  and 
overloaded sweats.
     Tracy  was seated on the other bench, with one of the  other 
girls  handing  her  pies and cakes  in  rapid  succession.   The  
reason  being  that the last 50 pounds manifested itself  on  the 
lower half of her body.  Even at 215 pounds her gut had grown  so 
huge  that  she could not have reached the table unless  she  sat 
sideways, a feat that would have been impossible, considering the 
width  of  her fat laden rear end.  She was encased in  a  custom 
made spandex body suit.  Her huge thighs, rippled with cellulite, 
caused  the  blue fabric to shimmer in the sun.  The top  of  the 
outfit was sleeveless, and made her upper arms appear larger than 
they were.  When she brought a slice of cake or pie to her  plump 
lips, you could see the bright red stretch marks in the flesh  of 
her corpulent arms.  As I watched the two girls packing it  away, 
I realized that I was falling in love with both of them.
     I  walked over to where Tracy  was seated and gave her  a 
kiss, the taste of blueberry pie lingered on my lips as I  pulled 
away. "Hi beautiful.  Having a good time?",  I smiled.
     She smiled back, a trace of blueberry, filling caught in the 
dimple  at  the  side of her mouth.  "I've got  good  news,"  She 
paused  in her gluttony long enough to tell me that with  all  of 
her tuition problems, she had decided not to start classes  until 
the spring semester.  From the corner of my eye, I could see  the 
look  of  jealousy on Millie's face, as she  heaped  an  enormous 
mound  of  mashed  potatoes with a pool of rich  gravy  onto  her 
plate.
     The  eating  war  started  in  earnest  that  day,  and   by 
Halloween,  both girls were close to the 300 pound mark.  Millie 
had  grown  to 280 pounds and was becoming  a  beautiful,  round, 
young  woman.   Her  tremendous bust was lost,  perched  atop  a 
globular  belly that hid her thighs.  Tracy's hips had  grown  so 
wide I had to have the doorways to my house widened, (both  girls 
had  moved in with me right after Labor Day), and even with  the 
modifications, her hips till rubbed when she waddled through  the 
house.   I had bought over 50 pounds of candy to give out, but  I 
wager all but 5 pounds had found its way into the bulging bellies 
of my two lovely sweethearts.
     For  Thanksgiving I had arranged with a caterer for  a  full 
dinner  for 12.  At noon I roused the girls and told them  dinner 
was  served.   They  sat at opposite ends of  a  long  oak  table 
groaning with food.  By 6 o'clock all that remained of the  feast 
were a pile of turkey bones, and two v-e-r-y v-e-r-y fat women.
     By  the  time Millie and I were married on New  Year's  Eve, 
Tracy  was taller laying down than she would have been  if  she'd 
been  able to stand.  At 575 pounds, her 4'10 frame was to  small 
to  allow  her  any mobility on her own.  By this  time  she  had 
become addicted to food and wanted nothing more than to spend her 
time in unremitting gluttony.
     My  500  pound  bride greeted me at the alter,  and  with  a 
glance  at the mountain of fat that Tracy had  become,  announced 
that she had finally gotten her revenge. 


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