Lance came back to his office after the dinner rush to find Lydia still on the couch topless and barefoot, her hands bound behind her back, ankles bound together. Her distended belly sat in her lap like a balloon that he had filled to near bursting. Her breasts hung heavy on top of it, swollen and desperately needing release. The thick blue vein on the left one was pulsing in time with her elevated heart rate.
Lydia's eyes were tearing up and her panties were very wet. She was in pain and loving every minute. Yet her eyes got wide and frightened when Lance took it to the next level by revealing a tub of mac and cheese from the buffet.
“Finish all this and I’ll be sure you get milked like good cow,” Lance chuckled evilly.
Lydia was a cute young sub Lance had stumbled across unexpectedly. He hadn't known her deviant side when he hired her for the buffet originally. She was just a cute redhead with a decent rack. Far too small for his tastes even though she had curves above and beyond her tits.
The key to her getting hired at all was that she was a high school dropout who would likely stay on longer than the usual summer. Maybe even a possible assistant manager. People like that were hard to find nowadays. Lance had no idea the sexual plaything he had hired.
But soon enough after hiring her he could tell. The way she carried herself, the way she interacted with people, the types of boys that came in waiting for her shift to end. It was obvious if you knew what to look for. And Lance knew exactly what to look for.
There was a sense Lydia knew what he was as well.
Not long after that the flirting began. A knowing glance here and there. He would touch her shoulder or squeeze her arm when he addressed her. She would like her lips seductively as he did. Not all of it was your typical flirting of course. Harsh verbal abuse in his office. A spanking here and there.
There was no denying the attraction. Lydia was a cute dumb slut that was up for anything. Lance was an older but very handsome experienced dom who could do things Lydia hadn't dreamed of.
Soon they were in a full-fledged affair.
Lydia would sign up for as many extra shifts as she could to spend time with lance. And lance would tell the wife he was working late when Lydia was there.
Lydia loved the idea of being owned and dominated by such a creative man.
When she got to work he would have something for her right away. Sometimes it was as simple as pulling her into the office and scrawling slut on her belly. The idea of being marked had Lydia almost too turned on to concentrate.
Sometimes he would strip her of her bra before a shift and make her work with her natural D's bouncing under her thin shirt.
Lance also liked to force Lydia to eat the slop from the buffet.
“I'm going to make you fat and ugly so no one else will want you,” he would tell her.
Lydia would shudder with desire. The attention, the talk of being his and only his. She was as smitten as a naive young sub could be.
Lance wasn't kidding about fattening her up. With her genetics and love of food Lydia assumed she would go up a size or two, but lance loved to hand feed her leftover dishes from the buffet when he had her bound in his office after hours to the point she could watch her belly balloon in front of her. Some nights Lydia would almost be too full to get on her knees and beg lance to pleasure her.
It was an indescribable feeling for the young sub. She had found a man who controlled every aspect of her physical self. Not just the bondage and humiliation she was so turned on by but her very physical form was being turned from the shapely young shy submissive to a chubby sex slave.
In the office lance would use her bra to bind her hand as he spooned pudding from a gallon jug into her mouth as he slapped and twisted her breasts.
“You're going to get saggy you cow.”
The pain from having her vulnerable, swollen, extra sensitive tits worked over would turn to intense pleasure as the sensation traveled down between her legs.
On the job Lance would frequently call out Lydia for gaining weight.
“You need bigger pants,” he stated in front of the cute Latino boy who had a crush on Lydia back when she first started, along with a few paying customers on the other side of the buffet.
“Those show off how fat your thighs half gotten since you've started here.”
Lydia swooned even as she blushed.
She was getting fat. After one summer her bras were almost unbearably tight and she had a small belly.
After the holidays Lydia's hips were wider than her shoulders and she couldn't suck in the belly any more.
At home Lydia's parents never suspected a thing. They acted as if they expected their youngest daughter to get fat at her job and said nothing. Just as they expected she would still be living with them at 19.
Her mom would turn up her nose in disgust when Lydia would come down in an outfit that showed off her weight gain.
Her dad completely ignored her. He had his two older daughters to be proud of. The married homemaker and the dedicated grad student.
It didn't matter to Lydia. She had found her niche.
Lydia was Lance's utterly and completely by then. She wore a choker necklace he had given her that actual read property of Lance in tiny lettering.
Together in the office Lydia would kneel in the corner and wait patiently for a command when he was working and eagerly pleasure him with her mouth, hands, tits or ass when he wanted her to.
When she did actually work lance had a variety of reminders for her of what she was.
There was the corset he would lace up tight enough to make it look like she had a waist, but made breathing or bending a tough task.
There were the nipple clamps that would shift from pain to pleasure and back throughout the course of the night.
Just when they had developed something of a routine Lance went to the next level.
Hog tied on the couch in his office at Lance's mercy Lydia's moans and begging for release were elevated as he worked over her breasts.
She had noticed they had been extra sensitive for a few days and were swollen almost too big to stuff in her FF cups.
Even though she was a week away Lydia had assumed she was just early this month because they would swell a bit and get sore during her time of the month. Until lance leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“Looks like you're a couple days away from becoming a true cow instead of just looking like one.”
Lydia gasped. She dare not speak, not while bound.
A mixture of shock, fear, excitement and lust washed over her. She could feel Lance's strong hand moving over her soft middle between her doughy thighs to her moist treasure. She bit her lip as a tremor of pleasure shook her.
“Is my cow excited to be milked like a farm animal?”
Lydia nodded rapidly as lance continued to toy with her, rubbing her so close only to stop and chuckle as she drooled helplessly bound and exposed.
It actually took a couple weeks and a couple bra sizes for Lydia's milk to come in.
Lance never told her but she imagined he had been lacing her food with something. Whatever it was eventually it worked. Lydia was lugging around a backbreaking set of GG cup udders that got tight and sore every morning and late afternoon if they didn't get milked.
They were udders in every sense of the term. Huge, pale, saggy sacks of leaking fat that were adorned with dark areole, puffy, sore teats. They were dotted with pink blemishes and streaked with stretch marks.
They were lance favorite target. He loved to pull her back into the office and scribble udders or cow or milk factory all over them before priming them so Lydia was constantly stuffing napkins in her bra to keep from leaking through her tight tee shirt.
Or else lance would bind her in his office and let her udders fill throughout her shift without release. As he had before the diner rush. Lydia could only sit there and feel her ducts swell and her udders get warm and tight.
When he returned he saw his overweight cow squirming on the couch unable to loosen the pentagram binding he had put her in.
Her udders looked terribly sore and swollen. White droplets formed at each of her long teats. Lance gave them a squeeze and thin streams of milk shot across the room. Lydia moaned.
“Please milk me,” she pleaded.
Lance shook his head and gave the left udder a firm squeeze.
Lydia tried to stifle a yelp.
“Now, now. You know better.”
“Moooo,” Lydia moaned.
Lance undid the knots in the pentagram and Lydia immediately moved into position on her hands and knees on the old couch. Her ever widening hips almost too big for her to fit. Her full udders hanging low and swaying.
Everything about Lydia looked big and round and full.
Lance kneaded her blubbery ass cheeks, working his way until he could feel her wetness. Her moos became more desperate.
“Is my big ol' cow ready to be milked until her udders are sore and then fucked until she can't walk?”
“Well we need to get you fed first.”
Lance slid an apple pie in front of Lydia's face.
She let out a heavy sigh of disappointment.
“Is my cow refusing her supper? Maybe it just doesn't look like enough for such a big hungry cow.”
Lance slapped her fat belly that was hanging slightly lower than her udders. Then he brought out a cherry pie and dumped it on top of the apple.
Lydia didn't risk and more she lowered her face and ate like she was behind in a pie eating contest.
Lance chuckled. The idea of fattening up Lydia to extremes was almost as exciting as binding and disciplining his sub. The vulnerability of her bloated, out of shape form that he had created was such an obvious demonstration of his power that he couldn't help but abuse it a bit by doing things such as buying her uniform a size or two too small to accentuate her heft.
Lydia was just loving the attention. Having a man focus on her so thoroughly was something she had never experienced before. It helped that Lance was a master. Lydia could barely keep up with all the disciplines and rules. She just let her mind go blank and enjoyed the pleasure and pain when she was with him.
She was almost at her limit as she forced the last of the second pie down. Her distended belly was pressing against the couch. Her udders were hot and tingly and her back and knees ached.
Then she was done and she felt Lance's hands on her fat udders, pulling and tugging and squeezing until she was in a puddle of her own milk.
Then he was behind her, splitting bulbous cheeks and pounding her so thoroughly she lost track of the orgasms. She was quite the sight, face caked in pie, huge tits dripping milk, belly comically stretched and distended, and hips obscenely fat and wide.
She was so exhausted lance was easily able to hogtie her before he went back out to check on the buffet.
Lydia took advantage of the rest. She knew there'd be more, and she couldn't wait.
And so it went for a while. The pair lasted a long time, but as with all good things it couldn’t last forever.
Lydia’s whole life was at the buffet. Lance was the main part of it, but she also loved the job. She was good at it. She kept the buffet full and clean. It was simple tasks that a woman of her intelligence could handle easily and she took pride in it.
As Lydia gained weight there was no mocking or strange looks from customers or co-workers. A fat woman working at a buffet was as natural as a big-titted woman working at a strip club. It just made sense. She was at home at the buffet, among like minded people.
Lydia continued to get bigger and bigger. From plump to chubby to obese to morbidly obese. She developed into a huge bottom-heavy shape. Massive, blubbery thighs, globular saddlebags, a sagging, bloated lower belly and an ass that got too big and wide to fit between chairs in the dining room.
Lance fed off her increasing girth. As she got bigger he forced her to eat more, stuffing her beyond her limits. She was so much easier to bind and discipline at her extreme size. Just binding her hands was enough to keep her anchored to the couch. Forcing her to stand in one place hurt her knees and ankles and made her get red faced. And even with all that padding on her ass a good spanking had her squealing. Plus it was so satisfying to leave a bright pink handprint on the dimpled, pale skin of her wobbly ass.
Even Lance knew it couldn’t last forever. He knew when it was their last night together before Lydia did. He made the most of it, lassoing her long nipples and tying them off to opposite walls of the office tight enough to actually tug them outward and upward putting strain on her puffy teats while preventing milk from leaking.
Lydia was perched on the edge of the couch with her hands bound behind her back trapped. Trying to lean back would tug her poor nipple even more, as would standing or moving side to side. But sitting still was just as painful as her heavy udders were being held up by her sensitive nips as the thread dug into them every time she took a breath.
Lance was in his chair smiling.
“Look at you, such a fat, dumb cow. Every pound on you gloriously obese ass is from my buffet. I’ve conditioned that fat gut to be hungry all the time to keep it growing. When you’re not in here being stuffed you’re snacking out at the bar as you work. I bet you eat like a pig at home too.”
Lance leaned forward and patted her belly apron that was hanging down between her enormous thighs.
“Too bad I can’t keep you.”
Lydia’s eyes went wide.
“I know. I’d love to keep you here and stuff you until you’re too big to fit out this office door, but you have to go to the buffet in Billonsberg.”
Lydia was dumbfounded.
Lance chuckled. “Management needs an assistant manager at that branch. I recommended you. You’ll make a great assistant manager. No one is better suited for it than you. Plus it’s time for you to move on. We’ve had our fun.”
With that Lance cut the thread holding up Lydia’s udders and the slapped heavily down onto her belly.
“You’ll start tomorrow.”
Lydia moaned with disappointment.
“After I stuff you with everything that is left of the buffet and then fuck you like a cheap slut.”
Lydia moaned with passionate anticipation.
Lydia did make a great assistant manager. Not for very long though. She was quickly made manager. She was a natural. Eventually she would go on to be a regional manager. She was friendly with customers and could easily relate to the types that came into a buffet. Seeing her abundant form people were put at ease and relaxed and ate while they were there and came back often. Lydia’s stores all did record business year in and year out.
As Lydia’s responsibilities and success increased so did her weight. Once she dried up after ending her fling with Lance her metabolism ground to a halt and her weight exploded that first year away. And while it slowed it never really stopped. She had been conditioned to be hungry all the time without even realizing it. It was something of her trademark to always be eating.
Lydia’s hips grew prohibitively wide. She had no hope of seeing her feet or the floor around her. Fitting through doors took careful planning. Even walking was a slow, arduous process. It was hard to ascertain body parts on her. Ankles rolls hide most of her bloated feet. Her calves looked to be 30 inches around. Gobs of blubber hung over her knees from thighs that were made up of a series of globs, bulges and ridges that transitioned to pussy bulge and belly apron and love handles to saddlebag without much difference.
No one knew for sure what she weighed. Rumors put her anywhere from 450 to over 600.
Lydia never married. She never really dated much after leaving Lance. A lot of that was due to her throwing herself in her work that she loved. A fair amount of it could also be contributed to Lance making her into a fat, ugly cow that no one else wanted. Actually the latter isn’t so much a fact as something Lydia liked to remember when she was alone with her vibrator. She’d picture Lance saying it to her as he stuffed ravioli into her gaping mouth as she sat tied on his couch.
Truth was Lydia remained hung up on Lance. She never went back to his buffet. She respected him for ending it when he did and recommending her for the job she had. He was of course married so Lydia didn’t want to lessen the memory of what they had by doing something rash.
She did think of him often, especially when a transfer would come to her store that was female with red marks on their wrists and looked as if they might have gained some weight recently. The thought of what her ex-lover might have done to the impressionable little sub gave her tingles that she had to extinguish with a platter of fried chicken from the buffet.
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Kind of a rambling piece that has been sitting a while. My intention was for Lance to be a recurring character, but this is all that ever came out of it. There is feeding, WG and some S&M stuff involved.