Swine Security Finale

“Oink. My, urp, shift, is over, Len. I’m, urp, gonna head out.”

“Sounds good, Sandy. You take care. See you tomorrow.”

The massive moose went back to entering some numbers into an excel spread sheet as his even larger employee shuffled her feet forward as best she could, her blubbery thighs pressed so tightly together that they barely looked like two separate legs anymore. She grabbed her phone and bag and left through the wide doors, which, were no longer truly wide for a fur such as herself. Her hips brushed against the side slightly, a testament to their width.

Once outside, Sandy made her way to the diner that was located two shops away from where she worked. It was a short walk for most furs, but for one that weighed over 750 pounds, it took quite a bit to get there. Each step felt like a marathon for the formerly fit human, one that made her sweat more than a weeks worth of working out in the past. Her sweat had turned her clothes almost translucent, but even still, she huffed and heaved her body to the diner and to her next momnumental meal.

Entering, she passed Peter and Portia, who were getting ready to start their shifts. The three obese animals nodded at one another and went on their ways, with Sandy glad to be able to sit again. She hated the sticky feeling after work and if she wasn’t always so hungry, she’d have just gone home and showered. Still, she needed to satisfy her belly and it’s demands, so she just made it to the counter and dropped her wide load of a rear on two stools and prepared to glut herself.

As she scooted on the chairs to get comfortable, she did not hear the sound of her jumbo cheeks pressing into the seat of her pants, causing them to groan audibly as they stretched and creaked, barely hanging on. The pants that had seemingly grown along with her these past 7 months were definitely on their last legs.  They were basically see thru as she leaned further in as best she could to place her order, her tail poking out above the band.

The waiter brought out the food as fast as it was ready, not wanting to keep the security guard waiting. She had been a lot (as had other staff), so he knew what he was getting into. He kept bringing more food, and watched as the plates piled up as the gluttonous woman tried to quell her ravenous hunger. She had been snacking all through her shift but that had not been enough to put a dent in her appetite. She had to eat, even if it meant spending another 8 hours to do so.

“Chomp, another, urp, tofu chili cheese dog, two more double pizza burgers, that country fried steak, and, burp, those chicken quesadillas with the guac. And, oink, another, squeal, diet coke.”

He put the order in and placed what was in his hand (chicken wings, chicken fingers, and mac and cheese balls) and put them in front of the hungry customer, who wasted no time and began consuming once more, great and bits of food getting everywhere. Sandy was going on pure instinct and couldn’t be bothered with silly things such as manners. She let out another loud burp and went back to glutting herself.

It wasn’t until about an hour into her feasting that things really started going wrong. She had already reached under her colossal gut to adjust her underwear (which were digging in something fierce), but now the waist band of the pants was really irritating her. Whenever she leaned in to get more food (her gut was pressed tightly on the counter, so she had to move to get to the food), the band pressed against her under belly and left a nasty mark. Even worse, leaning forward caused her two globular spheres of ass flesh to slightly rise off the chair, which showed that not only were they painfully tight, they were starting to tear too. Each time she rose and sat back down, she put more pressure on the seams and each time the rip grew, and grew, and grew.

Pain aside though, Sandy was in heaven. She long given into her species nature and embraced being a pig in every sense of the word. The only time “fitness” was on her mind was when she thought about how much food she could “fit into dis mouth”. Nor did she care about her size much either, she just wanted to eat. So what if she carried a few extra pounds, she was getting paid good money to sit on her bloated hindquarters, so why would she complain?

Her unending banquet continued as more of her order was brought out. She squealed loudly in pleasure as she bit into the tofu dog before gulping the bite down and dove into the pizza burger. Sauce dripped down in the space between her cavernous bosom, though Sandy paid it no mind. She was too busy going for another bite. And then another bite. And another. And another. Pretty soon, the first burger was gone and she reached for her second with her greasy, sauce covered hands.

“Mhm, so, good. Squeee”, she moaned between mouthfuls. The food was so tasty and the meat so moist, Sandy was lost in pleasure. “Need, oink, to order more. So, goooooooddddddd.”

The fat pig woman leaned in to put her chili dog down so she could slurp on some soda, when the tightness in her pants finally ended, but not in a way that Sandy would have wanted. A loud RIP and then an even louder POP rang out through the diner as it finally happened; her work pants had completely torn apart at the seams, and her panties had exploded off her fattened rear end, exposing her to any and all in the diner.

Those poor pants had been with her since she weighed 125 pounds and even when she had passed 750 last week. All the food though, the struggling up over increasingly fatter thighs, dealing with a belly that forced the flaps apart now all the time, being caked in sweat, all the normal wear and tear, it had all led to this moment. Sandy, who had mocked Peter all that time ago, had absolutely gotten too fat for the same size pants he wore to work, ones that he had never exploded out of. There was no question that she was now the fattest pig on staff.

She turned her head as best she could, her three chins quivering as she did so. She still had food in her hands, her stout, flabby arms jiggling from picking the items up. Her shirt had also started to rip at the bicep, showing that it wasn’t just her cruise ship sized ass that had grown, all of her had; from her fat face and widened snout, all the way to her pudgy toes.

Her breasts hung in her work shirt, but were about to explode out of them too. Those heavy hangers flopped around and threatened to hit her in the face whenever she moved fast in her apartment while naked. Her gut hung down to whack her knees when she stood, and even now sagged past her lap and towards the floor.

Her rear and thighs still dominated everything though, with her rear cheeks touching the backs of her thighs and knees when she stood. Her trunk wobbled and quivered uncontrollably when she walked, jiggling, jostling, and sloshing with each breath. It was almost hypnotic, distracting any and all FAs.

Right now though, none of that mattered. Sandy was naked from below the waist and needed to get out of there. With no choice, she grabbed a towel out of her work bag and lifted her rear and sat down on it and wrapped it as best she could on her waist to cover up.

“Uh, Charlie. Can, er, can I get this to go”, she said sheepishly. She may have caused a scene, but she still wasn’t going to waste any food. That was a very unpiglike thing to do, and, Sandy was the epitome of a pig.