The Donut Dilemma (Free) (Patreon)

Author's Note:

Have you ever shared a secret moment with someone? Where your hidden desires were pulled into the light without any warning. Maybe you were unaware of this desire until it landed right in front of you. In this story, you play that someone. And Charlotte... she's ready to share it all with you... you just have to give in...

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On your way to work, you stop outside a donut shop you are certain was not there yesterday. The sign above the door says MEREDITH’S, painted in powder pink and gold. A warm light spills through the windows, and the smell grabs you instantly. Fresh dough, caramel, strawberry jam, it hits the air like perfume and draws you inside before you even know what’s hit you.

Behind the counter stands a woman who smiles at you warmly. She looks to be in her late forties, maybe early fifties, with silver-streaked curls and eyes bright enough to feel as if they see into the very heart of you. It’s disarming. You get the strangest feeling she's been waiting for you to step inside her shop.

“Good morning,” she says warmly. “Welcome! First time here, yes?”

Before you can answer, she is already offering you a small piece of a pink-glazed donut. You take it, mostly out of politeness, and the moment it touches your tongue all your senses heighten.

When you look up, everything seems somehow clearer. Meredith is watching. Studying you.

“You have a sadness about you,” she says, not unkindly.

You blink. “I… what?”

“A longing,” she continues, tilting her head. “Something you want. Someone you want. You do not even see it in yourself, but it is right there.” Her eyes soften. “You smile only half the way you mean to.”

Your throat tightens.

She’s not wrong.

She leans on the counter, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “You are in love with someone. But you have not found the courage to tell her.”

Your heart catches in your chest.

You should deny it. Laugh it off. Walk away.

But you cannot. Because she’s right.

You have had a crush on your co-worker, Charlotte Charmers, for two years.

Charlotte, with her quick wit and bright laugh. Charlotte, who shares every silly office joke with you. Charlotte, who feels comfortable enough to brush your arm or lean into your shoulder when she laughs. Yet you have convinced yourself she is not your type, or more truthfully, that you are not hers.

Meredith watches your expression shift and nods knowingly. “It’s alright.” She reaches beneath the counter and pulls out a pink box wrapped in a soft ribbon.

“Take these to work,” she says, placing the box in your hands.

“All you need,” Meredith says with a mysterious smile, “is a coffee break and a donut with her to make things clear and simple.”

Her phrasing seems strange, and you cannot make sense of the quiet certainty in her voice. But the donut was incredible, and something about Meredith’s gentle demeanor makes you feel oddly at ease.

You take the box of donuts.

And you head to work, the power of that first bite lingering on your tongue and the warmth of Meredith’s knowing smile giving you a confidence you usually miss.

At work, you find Charlotte already half out of her chair the moment she sees you walk in. She waves you over with the kind of grin that always means trouble.

“There you are,” she whispers urgently, tugging you toward her desk. “I need your opinion. Life or death. Extremely important.”

“For you or for me?” you ask.

“For both of us,” she says with absolute seriousness.

You lean in. “What’s the emergency?”

“Colin.” She holds up a stack of fake office memos, each printed with increasingly dramatic warnings about the break room fridge being haunted by a dead sandwich. “I want to see how many of these he reads before he goes to HR.”

You snort. “You made these?”

“Of course I made these,” she says proudly. “I even used the official office template. Authenticity is key.”

You chuckle. You love this about her, the way she treats the dull office like a playground, always finding little ways to make even the worst days feel fun.

“You are terrible, Charmers,” you tell her.

“And that is why you’re obsessed with me,” she replies jokingly.

You ignore her comment, even though it sits warm in your chest for several seconds.

She shoves the papers into your hands. “Come on, help me pick which one to plant on the fridge first.”

“Why not all of them?” you ask.

Her face lights up. “See, this is why you and I work so well together.”

You follow her to the break room, both of you laughing quietly as she sticks the most dramatic memo to the fridge door. Something about “paranormal ham.” She looks at you with a triumphant grin.

“He is going to lose his mind,” she whispers. “A tenner says he actually uses the phrase ‘This is common sense gone mad!’ out loud.”

“It’ll be the title of the internal email he sends around.”

“Oh! I’ll take that bet!”

Your shoulders bump lightly as you walk back toward the kitchenette area. It feels natural. Automatic. Like the two of you orbit the same invisible spot.

When you reach the counter, Charlotte stops short.

“What’s in the box?” she asks.

Your stomach flips. You had forgotten all about the donuts.

She lifts the lid and gasps. “Only one left!” She turns to you with exaggerated betrayal. “You brought treats and did not tell me? That is an unforgivable offense.”

You laugh. “It’s a free sample. I stumbled across this great little donut shop. The owner was super friendly.”

She picks it up and studies it dramatically. “Well... enough sugar to keep me awake until lunch, not enough to stop me crashing past midday. You wanna split it?”

“I had a freebie already,” you say, trying to sound casual. “They are really good. You have it.”

Her expression softens, the teasing falling away for just a moment. “You saved it for me?”

“Not on purpose,” you lie badly.

“Mmhmm.” She looks very unconvinced. “Well… thank you.”

“Sure, umm… also. I kinda wanted to talk to you about… umm something…”

“What’s up?”

She lifts the donut, smiles at you, and takes a bite.

She pauses for a second, clearly enjoying it.

“Okay,” she says after swallowing. “That’s actually amazing.”

Then something strange happens.

At first you think your eyes are playing tricks on you.

Charlotte shifts her weight slightly, adjusting her stance.

But her hips don’t just move.

They widen.

The fabric of her skirt tightens as her shape begins to change.

You blink.

Her body continues to shift, slowly but unmistakably. Her hips broaden, her thighs thickening until they brush together. Her blouse grows tighter across her middle as her stomach rounds outward beneath the fabric.

Charlotte doesn’t seem to notice.

She’s still looking at the donut, curious.

“Where did you say this place was again?”

Her body keeps changing.

Her waist softens. Her stomach grows fuller, pressing gently against the front of her blouse. Her arms become rounder, her shoulders broader as her posture adjusts to accommodate the sudden weight settling onto her frame.

Her clothes stretch along with her, as though they were always meant to fit this version of her.

Her cheeks fill out slightly too, giving her face a softer, rounder look that is still unmistakably Charlotte.

You’re frozen.

In a matter of seconds she has become dramatically larger than she was moments ago.

Yet she just dusts a bit of sugar from her fingers and laughs.

“You know,” she says playfully, resting a hand against her stomach, “if you keep bringing me treats like this, I’m going to end up gaining a ton of weight.”

You can’t speak.

She notices your expression.

“You okay?” she asks.

She doesn’t seem to realize anything has changed.

She acts like she has always looked this way.

You laugh weakly, reflexively, as if it will make the moment pass. But your heart is pounding. Your throat is dry.

You turn quickly and walk out of the break room, trying to keep your legs steady.

What the hell just happened?

You sit down at your desk. You try not to look at her. You try not to think about what you saw.

But it’s impossible.

She is still her. Same voice. Same laugh. Same mischief.

But now she’s… enormous.

You feel dizzy. Uncertain.

You have no idea what to do.

You look up to see Charlotte walking out of the kitchenette.

Her movements are slower now, heavier. Each step deliberate as she adjusts to her changed body.

When she reaches her desk she carefully lowers herself into her chair. The frame creaks slightly under the weight before settling.

She adjusts her position, then leans forward to open a drawer.

Inside is a collection of candy bars.

You swear those weren’t there before.

She unwraps one and eats it quickly while scanning her screen, already back to work as if nothing unusual has happened.

Your mind is spinning.

What have you done?

What did that donut do to her?

This cannot be real.

Charlotte Charmers, the woman you have quietly been in love with for two years, now looks completely different.

And she has no idea anything has changed.

You cannot handle this.

You cannot sit here and pretend everything is normal.

You jump to your feet, your chair scraping loudly.

“I… I’m not feeling well,” you tell your boss, who looks up from his computer, bewildered.

You do not wait for him to answer.

You flee the office, your pulse pounding in your ears.

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A more 'sensually descriptive' version of this chapter and further weekly chapters can be found when you dare to...

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