#chubby oc

You look up and see the bartender. She's wearing a crisp white button up and a vest, both hands on the bar, she's looking at you with an expression you can't quite place.

"Hello," you say softly. Your cheeks feel warm, but you can't tell if you're blushing or if it's the alcohol.

"Come here often?" She says.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry, bad line," she smiles at you and you feel a fluttering in your gut, "Do you need a top off?"

Your eyes widen, "Take my top off?"

She looks surprised, "No! No, do you want another drink?"

"Oh, uh…" you slurp the rest of your drink through the straw, "Sure, that would be nice, thanks."

She takes the empty glass with another small smile thrown your way. You fidget with your skirt while you wait, downing the rest of your drink in one go is definitely starting to make your brain even fuzzier. Looking down at yourself you notice that your belly is definitely bloated, pushing against the waist of your skirt. Under the bar you reach up a hand and press gently on the swell. It's firm and feels like poking an inflated ball. Ugh… you really should eat something.

"Are you okay?"

The bartender is back, placing another fizzy and fruity drink on top of a small napkin. It's definitely not what you had originally, but you're tipsy and it looks delicious.

"Yeah, I'm okay…" You say, "This isn't the drink I had…"

She shrugs, "I took a chance. This is a recipe I made myself, a little bit of watermelon, vodka, mint…. Thought you seem cool enough you might want to try it for me. Let me know what you think."

You take a small sip and smile up at her, "This is really good."

"Thanks, it's on the house," she picks up a couple empty glasses farther down the bar and starts to walk away.

"Oh! Uh-"

"Yes?" She's back in front of you.

"Do you guys serve any food?" You ask, taking a long sip from the drink. You can tell it's strong, but it's mixed so well it doesn't bother you.

She glances at the door to the back room, "Uhhhhh… kind of?"

"Kind of?"

"My sister dropped off some cupcakes for a party that's happening here tomorrow, but it's not really food."

You're feeling even tipsier now, "I mean… cupcakes are food. In my opinion."

She looks at you slyly, "Oh… do you want one? I probably shouldn't since they're for the party tomorrow, but…" she leans on the bar, "You're just so cute that I can't say no."

You blush deeply and this time you know it isn't the alcohol, "You really don't have to."

"Come on," she says, winking at you and walking away. She reaches the door to the back room and looks back at you once before slipping inside.

You gulp down the drink and then hop off the stool, having to catch yourself with a hand on the bar as you sway a little. You get a hold on yourself and then, razor focused, walk around the bar to the back room. You aren't sure why you're trying this, but she's so hot and this is such a weird situation.

You slowly turn the door knob and open the door, poking your head in. The back room looks like a small kitchen, complete with an island. And on the island are two large trays of differently decorated cupcakes, covered by plastic lids. The bartender is standing next to it, holding out her arms.

"Ta-da!"

You slip inside and close the door, "Ta-da?"

Her grin falters just a bit, "Cupcakes!"

You walk forward and look over the trays, your mouth starting to water. Chocolate, vanilla, red velvet, carrot cake, double fudge, lemon; all with different types of frostings and decorations perfectly placed. The bartender pulls the lid off one of the trays and grabs a vanilla cupcake with pink frosting and a single raspberry placed on top. She peels off the wrapper and holds it out to you, like she's expecting you to eat it from her hand.

"Here, try this one," she can see your slight hesitation and moves it even closer to your lips. You stomach growls as your head swims and a hand twitches to your bloated abdomen. You take a small bite of the cupcake and it immediately melts in your mouth. Perfectly baked and the frosting is smooth and bursting with raspberry flavor.

"That's delicious!" You say, covering your mouth to hide your chewing.

"You barely took a bite," the bartender laughs, still holding it out, "there's jam in the middle, you need to at least get a taste of that."

The alcohol in your system slips you even further into the sloshing haze of drunkenness, so you hold both her hands to keep the cupcake steady as you take another bite. This one is much bigger and you get some frosting on your cheek.

You giggle a little as the bartender swipes their thumb over your cheek, wiping off the frosting. Then she sucks it off her finger, popping the rest of the cupcake in her own mouth. You swing your gaze to the trays of the cupcakes.

"Want another one?" The bartender asks. You think for a moment and it does take a moment, your brain working slowly, but then you nod. She looks excited, running to the other side of the room to grab a wooden chair. She sets it down facing her and gestures to it.

You stumble a little and manage to sit down, the waist of your skirt digging into your belly. Your whole body feels warm and loose and you tell yourself you're ready to do whatever she tells you.

The bartender rolls up the sleeves of their white shirt and meticulously picks another cupcake. This one is chocolate with fudge icing, a Ferrero Rocher on top. She pulls the candy off and holds it out to you. Gently you take it from her fingers with your teeth. You barely swallow it when she's holding the rest of the cupcake to your mouth.

You open it to take a bite and she shoves it in. You make a small squeak, but you start to chew. It's just as good as the last one, if not better. You swallow it all in one and the bartender is already waving a lemon cupcake under your nose. You don't even protest and take a bite, lemon curd bursting over your tongue.

Cupcake after cupcake, the amount that you've eaten becomes a blur, but you can tell that you aren't hungry anymore. Wrappers litter around the bartender's feet and suddenly through your intoxication you realize you're halfway through one of the trays. Your stomach whines in protest, rumbling as it tries to make space as the bartender slides another cupcake past your lips.

Your belly, packed full of alcohol and sugar, strains against your skirt. You suddenly can't get comfortable and it's like you can't take a full breath. You squirm in your seat, gripping the edges of the chair to steady yourself.

"W-wait…" you say through some remnants of cupcake in your mouth.

The bartender stops peeling another cupcake from its wrapper, "Wait? You don't want another one?"

"M-maybe I should stop…" You say.

"Oh?" She leans over so her eyes are looking directly into yours, holding up the cupcake to your lips, "Are you sure?"

You can smell the cream cheese frosting and sigh. What's the harm in another one? You open your mouth and she shoves in it with a little more force than the last time.

"They're good, right?" The bartender says, "You just can't help yourself, can you? I bet you're going to finish this whole tray."

You can't respond with the food in your mouth and as soon as you swallow she has another one ready. She keeps going, feeding you cupcakes steadily now. You can almost feel your belly swelling with each bite, your stomach fighting to find room for all the cake.

Your skirt feels tighter and tighter, cutting into you and eventually making you feel sick. You should stop eating, but she keeps giving them to you and what are you supposed to do? Not eat what she's offering?

There's a loud RIIIIP as your skirt gives up, coming apart at the seams to make way for your swelling gut. You let out a deep breath and your belly pushes out even further. The bartender feeds you the cupcake she's holding and you force it down. She reaches her hand in the busted seam and cups the fat spilling over your panties.

"God, you just can't help yourself…" she holds your neck with one hand and breaths the words in your ear. You feel a shiver of pleasure run through you, "You're so fat. I bet you gained all this in the last year."

You hadn't, you had always been chubby, but something makes you nod. The bartender rubs a hand over your round, swollen gut, giving it small pat. She kisses your neck and then pulls back, grabbing the last cupcake on the tray and taking off the wrapper.

"What do you think?" She says sneakily, "Last one?"

Your stomach rumbles and you notice that- alcohol aside- you feel pinned to the chair. You're so bloated and so, so full of cake that your legs are spread apart. You aren't sure you can force down that last cupcake, but the bartender places it to your lips. You take a gentle lick of the strawberry frosting and the second your mouth is a little open she presses the cupcake into it, sliding her other hand back into your hair and tangling it around their fingers.

It takes incredible effort, but you get the cupcake down.

"Good job," the bartender purrs, "Very good job…" She slips her hand into the busted seam of your skirt again and cups your belly, jiggling it and rubbing it gently. You feel goosebumps break out over your arms as she whispers to you. She kisses along your neck, continuously playing with your stuffed gut. Reaching under your shirt, she rubs along your distended upper belly. You moan and so does your stomach. The cupcakes seem to be fighting for space, your guts churning inside you.

The bartender coos at you, calling you "good girl" and telling you that you've done "such a good job". The feeling of her hands on your belly and her whispered words in your ear lull you into such a sweet feeling of security. Your eyes almost close, a sense of peace coming over you. Yet simultaneously you realize that you are incredibly aroused.

The bartender plays with your belly some more, sticking her fingers in your belly button and trying to shake your rounded gut. It feels so good that you let out another moan, letting your head fall back. You feel the bartender's hand travel further down. They stroke their hand over your thigh and towards the middle of your legs, barely brushing the wet fabric of your panties before pulling back.