How was Bunny's First Day? (Short Story)

Despite her qualifications as a Nurse, Bunny’s recent job search had been incredibly bleak - plagued by low paying care roles, or underpaid-yet-overworked Hospital positions, there just hadn’t been many enticing opportunities.

That all changed though, when Bunny heard about a position that involved caring for a wealthy client. The pay was generous, the hours were regular shifts and she’d be able to learn as she went along from an already established team, even if there were a few unusual stipulations about the uniform she would have to wear - how would a bow-tie even work with a nurse's smock? It must be a typo, Bunny thought, a clerical error; the old dear who she would be caring for had probably lost her marbles whilst typing it.

Bunny’s first day harboured many surprises, the uniform concern being the least of them. As she stood there, topless, in a skimpy pair of briefs wearing a bow tie and bunny ears, she began to wonder if she was, in fact, dreaming. A quick pinch of her skin told her otherwise, but she had little time to reflect on her bizarre reality as she was ladened with multiple jugs of what looked like a thick, creamy milkshake and ushered through large double doors by the girl who’d just served her.

As she cautiously and self-consciously pushed her way through the doors, desperately trying not to spill a drop of milkshake and yet desperately trying to provide some cover to her exposed bosom, her jaw dropped open at the room-filling scene before her. She actually froze solid for a few seconds, maybe more.

Luckily Samuel, one of the head-Nurses was nearby, and ushered the befuddled Bunny over to explain.

“This is your client,” elucidated Samuel after a brief introduction, “Miss Buttertoffte”.

“Of Buttertoffte Family fame?” Bunny quizzed.

“Exactly…”

“But didn’t he…?”

“Yes! Yes… erm, yes he did,” Samuel interjected quickly, bringing his voice to a hushed whisper, that his enormous client might not hear him.

“I wasn’t aware he had family?”

“Well, he does, and this is his daughter, the young Miss Rosie Buttertoffte.” Samuel knowledgeably informed, gesturing to the gigantic mounds and rolls of flesh. It took Bunny a short while to work out quite what she was looking at; the hugeness of her client made it difficult to work out the physiognomy at first, but then she saw a gently wiggling foot, protruding from an encroaching nest of soft, fatty flesh. Then a hand, engulfed by a rolling blanket of arm fat, and right at the far end she could just make out a head, eyes closed in serene bliss and guzzling away with what looked like a hose in their mouth - it was hard to tell as the gigantic balloon of blubber obscured much of her view. One thing was for sure; this wasn’t a dried-up old prune of a lady, she was quite young in fact - maybe mid-twenties at the most.

Samuel continued, quietly, “The late Sir Ernest Buttertoffte sadly passed away several years ago. The Coroner put his death down to natural causes and said that it was his weight, but his family, and especially his daughter here, didn’t agree.”

Bunny looked puzzled.

“You see,” continued Samuel, “The Buttertoffte’s were all quite big eaters, and, shall we say ‘portly’ in stature, and no-one else in the family's recent history has ever experienced anything similar. So sure were Sir Ernest’s family, that they even paid Doctors to test their DNA and, sure enough, they have a reasonably rare gene that makes them less susceptible to the effects of obesity. However, the Coroner wouldn’t take that as evidence that foul play may have been involved, and refused to investigate further.”

“Foul play?” Bunny questioned.

“Well, the Buttertoffte’s Confectionary Shipping Company was one of the most valuable logistics businesses in the World, and the family strongly suspect Sir Ernest was poisoned by a competitor, shortly after they went for a meal together to discuss a merger. It does seem a little fishy, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I suppose it does,” burbled Bunny, still trying to take in the vastness of her gorging client, “But, how does Rosie getting so… so, huge, help?”

“Miss Buttertoffte,” Samuel kindly corrected, “vowed to prove to the Coroner and the Authorities, that her family’s genetics were more than capable of coping with obesity, and it was in fact foul play that caused the death of her father. So, she began to eat, and eat and eat, and has put her family fortune in getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger.”

“And she’s okay with that? Even at this size?”

“So she says,” Samuel reassured Bunny, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, she always enjoyed eating; Miss Buttertoffte was rumoured to be over five-hundred pounds at the age 18. However, to ease your conscience, she seems quite content. Keeping her full, comfortable and clean is the main priority, but she also enjoys the odd Radio Play, and we often read to her, too. Any other questions?”

“Erm, well, what… no, erm…” fumbled Bunny, “oh, there was one thing?”

“Sure, fire away?”

“What’s with the uniforms? Or lack of?” enquired Bunny, eyeballing her intriguing yet minimalist attire.

“Ah yes, you’ll get used to it,” Samuel smiled, “Miss Buttertoffte has quite the sense of humour, and moreso, when you’re the heiress of a Billionaire Shipping Magnate, I suppose you can have people dress how you like! That, and I believe it makes her feel more comfortable if we’re in a similar state of undress to herself. Clothes are not easy to find or even commission at this size…”

“Yes, I suppose!” Bunny giggled.

“You’ll feel a little self-conscious for a while,” Samuel reassured the newbie, “but trust me, once you’ve seen breasts that big, you start to become somewhat desensitised anyway…”

Bunny was tentative at first, and she watched the other staff go about their business. It was clear Miss Buttertoffte rarely spoke; only when she was having a breather, and even then, she was incredibly out of breath. Most of the time she had a hose in her mouth, that in turn was connected to the feeding pumps that kept her continually and contentedly glutted throughout the day and night - despite the fact that Rosie was already growing so large she was starting to be swallowed by her own enormity.

Bunny observed that on the rare occasions Miss Buttertoffte wanted to stop or say anything, she’d make a subtle gesture with her hand, although it was quite hard to tell. It turns out that her client is so vast that even moving her arms is near impossible, and so a gentle wave of the hand is about all that’s manageable. Rosie would open her eyes from time to time, occasionally glancing around making sure someone was in attendance. She caught Bunny’s gaze a few times during the start of her shift, looking at her critically, before giving a subtle but approving nod.

The Radio was almost always on. Usually something classical, or maybe a play. It was considered a severe faux pas to talk over it unless with the most vital of communications between team members or Miss Buttertoffte herself. Later, another Rabbit-ear equipped nurse was reading Rosie poetry from a well thumbed book. Samuel hinted to Bunny that she had a nice tone, and that Miss Buttertoffte might request her to try a few passages and become a regular.

Feeding was comparatively simple, but cleaning was a mammoth and almost continual task. The sheer size of the woman, combined with many huge, overlapping rolls of fat meant that hygiene was incredibly important, and ensuring every part of Miss Buttertoffte's vast person was cleansed took almost around the clock care.

Once clean, it was important to keep Miss Buttertoffte moisturised. Keeping her skin soft, supple and stretchy became more and more important the larger she had grown, and luxurious, expensive balms were applied, by hand, to ensure that every inch of flesh could continue to contain the steadily increasing swell of fat.

There were plenty of other little tasks to be taken care of in this department too, and it was rare for anyone to be starting idle for long. A daily manicure and pedicure were a must, even if it was getting harder to see the clients diminishing hands and feet, and washing Miss Buttertoffte's fiery Auburn hair was a task reserved for just two of the comparatively large-ish team - more of a privilege than a duty.

Later in the day, Samuel found Bunny, and informed her that Miss Buttertoffte had summoned her for a special duty. 'Oh great,' thought Bunny, 'I've not read Poetry aloud since high school - and I wasn't very good at it then!'

"You… yes, you. I want… you… to… feed me"

A stainless-steel catering trolley, adorned with large platters that in turn were heaped with eclairs. Eclairs stuffed so full with cream that their delicate choux pastry almost burst upon touch. Bunny attempted to handle them as carefully as she could, but the demand of her client was a greater priority.

Leaning across the vast Miss Buttertoffte, Bunny's firm figure pressed against the contrastingly exquisite soft, supple flesh of the gargantuan gainer. There was no way to avoid it, such was the spread of the fat. Bunny's cheeks flushed and her nipples hardened, as she pushed the first eclair into her feedee's eager mouth. The cream exploded around Miss Buttertoffte's chin and cheeks as she devoured the fattening pastry, in a manner that made it look as though she hadn't eaten for a month! The topless bunny girl stood watching in aroused disbelief, but before she had time to explore her confused feelings, Miss Buttertoffte's gaze caught her eye.

"More…" the gluttonous girl gasped.

Bunny hastily obliged, her adrenaline racing at the intensity and intimacy of the situation. Then another, and then another, and another.

"More…" Miss Buttertoffte continued to gasp, becoming ever glutted with thick cream. Hastily and obediently the trainee feeder obliged, trying her best to stay focused as she pressed against the delicious fatty flesh of her client - something Bunny had never banked on was just how insanely erotic this felt; her heart raced, she was almost quivering. With this in mind, she committed to the task and upped the pace, keeping the humongous heiress continually occupied with fresh fattening eclairs, save for the occasional moment when she'd quickly wipe the excesses from Miss Buttertoffte's face and the stream of cream running down her chin and onto the fatty rise of her chest.

So feverish was the feeding, that in what seemed like that in no time at all, the large platters of pastries were almost completely depleted.

"More…" Rosie helplessly groaned, almost too exhausted to utter the word.

Before Bunny could contemplate whether there would be enough eclairs left to sate her colossal client, she heard the sound of a trolley making its way into the room, pushed by another scantily clad bunny girl, that clearly wasn't phased by the bewildering scene before her. The new trolley was also just as heavily laden with bulging eclairs as the last, with platter after platter piled high on three layers of shelves. The old trolley was taken away, it's once growing shelves now decimated, it gave a hollow rattle as it was escorted away.

Bunny tried to stay attentive, as her gigantic client, already stuffed, breathlessly begged for more.

"This is insane," she thought, "if Miss Buttertoffte keeps eating like this, she'll explode!"

But treat after treat continued to be devoured, and whist progress began to slow, there was certainly no sign of stopping yet.

Rosie moaned and sighed, perhaps lost in her lustful greed as each eclair popped indulgently in her mouth. Her hands would flap at times, or sometimes her feet and toes would wiggle with futility, causing the enormous mounds of succulent soft fat to gently jiggle and ripple.

"Wait…" Miss Buttertoffte desperately gasped, "just… a minute…"

It was clear her client was reaching her limits; she must be dangerously full by now.

The enormous feedee seemed to wriggle and wrestle uncomfortably for a second or two, causing her vast body to quiver. Miss Buttertoffte's brow glistened, and her cheeks and upper chest were flushed. Even beneath all the fat, Bunny could see her clients chest rise and fall with deep gasping breaths.

"Okay…" Rosie finally whispered, breathlessly, "just… one… more…"