FAT FICTION | Chapter 2 - Martha The Burgeoning Barista (Patreon)

The place was small, barely more than a counter, a handful of stools and a couple of aisles of magazines. The kind of place you stopped on a road trip for a caffeine hit and little else. Walking through the door, the first thing Paul noticed was the smell. A much stronger version of the sickly sweet smell he’d carried with him from the book shop. The air inside was thick, sweet, a heavy note of butter and syrup layered beneath the coffee.

Maybe I’m closing in on a nearby sweet factory.

Behind the counter, the barista saw him enter. She dropped the Women’s Health magazine she’d been flipping through below the counter. She’d been keen to read about the ‘30-day Abs of Steel’ article, since she’d placed several copies out on the shelf earlier. A super keen fitness freak, she was always looking for ways to tighten her trim body.  

Paul stepped up to the counter, shaking his head, still rattled by the dust and weirdness of the book shop.

The barista smiled and put the bottle of water she had been drinking down on the counter. She was young, red-headed, bright-eyed. “Hi there, what’ll it be?”

“Just a black coffee, thanks,” Paul said, noting the name tag. Martha.

“One black coffee coming right up!”

She turned, ponytail swaying, slim frame moving with ease in a mocha polo shirt and dark brown trousers that sat neatly on narrow hips. Freckles. Easy charm. Girl-next-door stuff. Just his type. 

He caught himself staring and looked away. 

“Jesus, man,” he muttered. “Get a grip.” He’d been feeling horny since texting Mia… or maybe before that. He wasn’t sure. 

He stared blankly at the magazines. His brain felt foggy. Somewhere inside the boot of his car, the pages of the book began to glow.

Martha Jenkins worked the evening to late shift at the QuickFill out on Route 9, which meant she spent most nights under humming fluorescent lights serving burnt coffee and stale pastries to truckers, insomniacs and whatever poor bastards happened to be passing through town after midnight.

It wasn’t the sort of life she’d imagined for herself back in high school.

Back then she’d been one of the pretty girls.

Not the prettiest maybe, but close enough that boys noticed when she walked down the hallway in her hockey skirt. Athletic. Tight-bodied. The kind of young woman who discovered early on that a gym membership and enough self-control could turn a decent figure into a spectacular one.

Martha had discipline when it came to exercise, but oh, she hated studying.

Hated academic responsibility. Hated the figures, facts and equations.

Exercise? That she understood. A little sweat, a little hunger, and the mirror rewarded you. Simple.

That was probably why she still clung to her workouts now, years later, despite everything else in her life turning out so mediocre.

The job sucked.

The pay sucked.

The customers sucked.

And every once in awhile, while wiping down the coffee station at two in the morning, Martha found herself wondering how different things might have been if she’d spent half as much time studying as she had following the crowd of popular girls around.

Maybe she’d have gone somewhere. Maybe she’d have escaped this town.

Instead she stood behind the counter in a QuickFill polo, sipping free coffee because it was the only perk the place offered.

Martha drained the last mouthful from her paper cup and was about to toss it when she noticed there was writing at the bottom.

Congratulations! You’ve Been Selected!

Have Another Coffee On Us!

Yours, TFZ

“What the hell’s TFZ?” she muttered. Her boss hadn’t made her aware of any promotions from the coffee company. Huh, maybe they had changed suppliers. These new TFZ folks were keen to get their cups filled so had designed a freebie campaign. 

Martha shrugged. Free coffee was free coffee, she supposed. 

She poured herself another cup.

Normally she drank it black.

Tonight, though, she picked up the creamer. She didn’t even think about it. 

A splash disappeared into the coffee.

Then another.

The dark liquid turned caramel brown.

Martha frowned faintly. Weird. Still tasted good. Better than good actually.

The sort of coffee that settled warmly in your stomach and made you forget, just briefly, how disappointing your life had become.

Leaning against the counter, Martha drifted into thought.

High school. Okay, maybe she hadn’t studied much. But she’d had fun.

Parties.

Games.

Boys.

Then suddenly her thoughts snagged. The memory shifted strangely. No. She had studied.

Hadn’t she?

Martha blinked.

For a second the entire gas station seemed to swim around her.

Miss Appleby. Detention threats. Warnings about failing grades.

“If you don’t pull those marks up, Martha, I’ll personally recommend removing you from the hockey team.”

And then came Angie. God. Angie Patterson.

The fattest girl in school.

Miss Appleby had forced them into after-school study sessions together. Angie was her study-tutor.

Martha remembered dreading every minute.

Angie was enormous even back then. Sweaty. Always smelled of body odor no matter how much perfume she used. She breathed heavily just sitting still and had an unfortunate habit of farting absentmindedly whenever she got comfortable.

It had horrified Martha. How someone could get like that.

Still, Angie knew her stuff.

And somehow, humiliating as the arrangement had been, Martha’s grades climbed from an F to a D.

The memory faded. Martha stared down at her empty cup.

Odd. She couldn’t remember thinking about Angie in years.

Yet now she found herself lingering on the memory.

The way Angie looked. The way she laughed. They’d had some fun after all. 

The soft heavy jiggle of her body whenever she shifted in her chair.

And all the while, unnoticed by Martha, subtle changes spread across her own figure.

Not dramatic. Just enough softness to blur the sharp edges of her once-athletic body.

A little fullness in her thighs.

A softer waist.

A heavier ass pulling at the seams of her uniform pants.

Thirty pounds heavier than she’d originally been.

But to Martha, this had always been her body.

She looked into her empty cup. 

CONGRATULATIONS!

FREE REFILL AWARDED

“Oh come on,” Martha laughed.

Still, she grabbed another cup. This time she added twice as much creamer. The coffee became thick and velvety. And while she drank it, the memories returned.

Different this time.

After the awkwardness of those first study sessions, Martha had gradually discovered Angie wasn’t nearly as unbearable as she first thought.

They actually had things in common.

The biggest one being Space Conquest.

A stupid sci-fi series nobody else at school cared about.

Angie loved it.

Martha secretly loved it too.

And before long they were spending more time discussing starship captains and alien conspiracies than algebra.

After a few weeks, Angie nervously invited Martha over for a Space Conquest marathon.

Martha remembered the panic immediately.

What would the hockey girls say?

Spend the night with Angie?

The fat girl?

No chance.

So she’d refused. Too quickly. Too cruelly.

And the hurt look on Angie’s face had stayed with her longer than she ever admitted.

Back in the present, guilt twisted warmly through Martha’s chest.

Because Angie really had been nice to her.

Kinder than most people.

Whenever Martha came over to study, Angie’s mother always had food ready.

Brownies.

Pizza rolls.

Butter-drenched popcorn.

Homemade cookies.

Soon Martha found herself lingering longer after study sessions.

Then skipping hockey practice occasionally.

Then regularly.

Not because she was lazy. Well. Not entirely. Not yet. 

It was just easier sitting on Angie’s bed discussing Space Conquest while eating junk food than freezing her ass off at practice with girls she increasingly realised she didn’t even like.

Without noticing, Martha’s body thickened further.

Her hips broadened.

Her thighs rubbed.

Her stomach softened beneath her polo shirt.

Sixty pounds heavier now.

And once again:

FREE REFILL AWARDED

Martha stared suspiciously at the machine.

Then shrugged her newly rounded shoulders.

By now she actually wanted the coffee. It was likely her sweet tooth playing up again.

This time she ignored the creamer entirely and reached for the double cream.

White ribbons  of the stuff spilled into the cup.

The coffee tasted unbelievable. And with every swallow, the altered memories grew deeper.

Missing hockey practice became routine. The girls noticed. Not just the skipped sessions, the weight gain too. 

Then came the jokes. At first playful. Then nasty.

“Martha’s growing a spare tire under there. We should make her goalie then nothing would get past her.”

“Especially not second helpings!.”

“She’s turning into Angie.”

Funny thing was, the more they mocked her, the less Martha cared.

Because Angie never mocked her.

Angie made her feel comfortable. Wanted. Safe.

So when Angie finally invited her over again for a Space Conquest marathon, Martha accepted instantly.

That night changed everything.

The two girls sprawled across Angie’s bed surrounded by enough junk food to feed a family.

Pizza boxes.

Candy wrappers.

Soda bottles.

Chips.

Ice cream.

They stayed awake until dawn devouring food and watching episode after episode.

And Martha realised something uncomfortable.

She’d never been happier.

Not at parties.

Not with the hockey girls.

Not making herself hungry trying to stay thin.

Here.

Stuffed full of junk food beside a girl society considered disgusting. 

That was where she felt happiest.

That was the first time she farted in front of Angie. Who gave her a smile, and farted right back. 

“We’re such piggies!” scoffed Angie. 

“Aren’t we just!” Squealed Martha. 

After that came every Friday night.

Then Saturdays too.

Then entire weekends.

Martha’s weight climbed steadily.

But so did her grades.

As her body softened and spread, her old life fell away.

The hockey girls abandoned her entirely.

“The Fat Friends Club,” they called Martha and Angie.

Eventually the girls themselves started joking about it.

“The Chub Club.” They renamed themselves. 

Though by graduation both knew “chubby” was being generous.

The memory settled into place.

Reality finalised.

Martha opened her eyes.

Only now she wasn’t the toned athletic barista she’d once been.

She was enormous.

Four hundred pounds of fat and flabbiness.

Her QuickFill uniform strained heroically around a body it had never been designed to contain. But it was the largest size they had to offer her. Her vast stomach spread across her lap as she sat perched on a reinforced stool behind the counter. Her thighs bulged thickly against the seat, and every shift of her weight made the stool creak dangerously.

A long fart slipped from beneath her with lazy familiarity.

Martha barely acknowledged it.

Years around Angie had cured her embarrassment over bodily functions. She’d also grown accustomed to the BO smell she couldn’t shake. Too many hot folds for any deodorant to cover. 

Besides, she was happy.

Really happy.

Because while the hockey girls peaked in high school, Martha had gone somewhere.

Her grades had skyrocketed.

She’d earned a scholarship to medical school. And now she was undertaking her final shift. Good riddance! 

And she knew perfectly well she never would’ve managed it without Angie.

Without the study sessions. Without the Space Conquest marathons.

Without the Chub Club.

Angie was out tonight on a date.

Some guy she’d met online.

Apparently he was really into enormous women.

Martha understood that now.

There were men out there who’d kill to spend time with a woman Angie’s size or hers, these days they joked about how she was even bigger than her former study tutor.

Hell.

Martha glanced back down the aisle of the station café and smiled knowingly.

She was looking right at one of those men right now.

The guy waiting for his coffee, pretending to read the magazines had barely taken his eyes off her immense body since she sat down.

Not disgusted.

Not mocking.

Hungry and in lust. 

Martha shifted slightly, her belly rolling against the counter edge.

The young man blushed instantly.

And Martha, all three hundred soft comfortable pounds of her, felt something warm spread through her crotch.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad life after all.

The story continues with wider angles and heavy close-ups when you dare to…

The Fat Zone