The Further Adventures of Claire Willison


by Big Dave Hill




	An ordinary life - that's all that Claire Willison wanted.  She was free of her curse, free of the 
effects from Dr. Destino's experiments, and free to live her life the way she wanted to.  She'd given her 
farewells to her good friend, Joey Stewart, and wished her well.  But now that Claire was a regular person - 
no powers, no special abilities, nothing abnormal about her at all - she just wanted a regular life.

	It had been a long time since she'd been "normal."  She could hardly remember the days when she 
was young, carefree, fresh out of school and working as an aerobics instructor.  Back then she'd been in 
great shape, taken some classes, and had no trouble getting the job (she was drop-dead gorgeous, a blonde 
knockout, no less).  Then she'd gained a few pounds, gone to a doctor named "Destino," and her life was 
turned upside-down.

	Destino promised her great power, and she fell for it.  She worked for him, enchanted by his 
genius and class - until he sold her out, betrayed her, and made her fat!  REALLY fat.  If it wasn't for Joey, 
Claire didn't know what she would have done.

	Everything had come full-circle now.  Destino was dead, Claire's old life was behind her and she 
was ready to start anew.  The only problem was, what was she going to do?

	"Well, it's all I'm technically qualified for," Claire muttered to herself, reading a want-ad for an 
aerobics instructor at a nearby gym.  She phoned the number in the ad and arranged an interview for the 
following day.
"And don't forget to wear your leotards," the voice on the phone said.

	Claire went to the gym where the interview was to be held the next day.  It was bad enough that 
she had to wear her skin-tight workout clothes to the interview, but she realized she had grown a little since 
the last time she'd worn them.  She estimated that she was carrying an extra twenty or twenty-five pounds.

	The interview started and Claire told them her past experience.  The interviewers, two fat, middle-
aged men, asked her to stand up and turn around.  Although confused, Claire obeyed.  The balding 
interviewer spoke to the other as though Claire wasn't even in the room.  "She's a little older than we 
normally like, and a bit on the heavy side, but she's still fairly attractive."  Claire was instantly insulted, and 
started to wonder what kind of job she'd really applied for.
	"You've got the job," one of the interviewers announced.  "You'll handle all the beginner classes."

	Three months passed, and Claire worked all but two days a month.  She found the beginner classes 
boring, but the pay was alright.  She got along with some of the clients, too, and would often go out for 
beer and wings with them on Thursday nights, despite the fact that it wasn't low-calorie fare.

	"Claire, please report to the office," called a voice over the gym's intercom.
	Claire's last class for the day had just ended, so she said goodbye to a few of the lingering women 
and headed for the office.
	"What can I do you for?" she quipped, sticking her head into the room.
	"Come in, Claire," said one of the two, fat owners.
	"We have something we have to talk to you about," said the other.
	Claire stepped in and closed the door behind her.  She waited for someone to ask her to sit, but no 
one did, so she stood with her hands behind her back.
	"Claire, we have a bit of an issue with... well," started one owner (Claire could never remember 
which was which).
	"It's your weight," finished the other, balding, owner.
	"What about it?" Claire asked, innocently.
	"You've been getting fat, Claire," said the non-balding owner.
	Claire looked down at her body.  She could see two voluptuous, bulging breasts, and beyond that, 
a round stomach.  Her stomach was hiding the view of her feet.  She leaned forward to look past it, just to 
make sure they were still there.
	"You have to lose weight or we're going to have to fire you, Claire.  You're too fat."
You don't know what fat IS, Claire thought.  She'd been so big she couldn't move, couldn't even move her 
arms.  You guys think this little pot belly and these flabby thighs are FAT? she thought, You don't KNOW 
fat!
	"So what do you say?" the balding owner asked.
	"Sure, I can lose weight," Claire said, shrugging her shoulders.
	The brothers/owners weighed her.
	"187 pounds, Claire," said the non-balding brother.
	"We'll weigh you in a month to check your progress," said the other.

	Just over a month passed.  Claire assumed the brothers had forgotten about their demand.  She was 
grateful.  Then, about six weeks later, the call came from the intercom:  "Claire, please come to the office."
Claire made her way to the office and walked in.
	"Yes?" she said, hands on her hips.
	"Time for your weigh-in, Claire," said the balding owner.
	"It doesn't look good," said the non-balding brother.
	Claire looked down.  Her skin-tight workout clothes did nothing to hide her extra bulk.  Her 
breasts were large, hanging and jiggling with every step, their bra inadequate to control them.  Her belly 
bulged out in two definite rolls.  Her hips were wide and soft, her fists squishing into them.  Her thighs 
were thick and pressed together as she stood.
	"You look like you've put on weight, Claire."
	"Well.... Let's see, anyway," she muttered.  She certainly felt a little bigger.
	Claire stepped on the scale and it jumped to 209.
	She frowned, then looked at each owner, first the balding one, then then other.
	"Come back when you're at 160 pounds, Claire," said the balding owner.

	She walked home in her leotards, not bothering to change.  At home she stood in front of a full-
length mirror, examining her fat.  She lifted her leotard top over her belly, and held the substantial bulge in 
her hands. She squeezed it, shook it, pressed it against her body.
	"How did I get so fat?" she asked her reflection.  "I don't eat that much, do I?  I'm supposed to be 
cured - Destino's experiments aren't supposed to affect me anymore.  Can I really be this fat on my own?"
	Claire slumped onto the couch in front of the TV.  Reflexively, she grabbed an open bag of potato 
chips and stuffed a few in her mouth.  As she chewed, she noticed her fat belly, a rising mound in front of 
her.  She poked it with a greasy finger, making it jiggle.
	"I just need more exercise," she muttered.
	She turned off the television, threw the chips aside, and stretched her arms in the air.  She bent 
over to try and touch her toes.   She couldn't nearly manage it, however, and gave up with a grunt.
	She sat on the ground, then eased her back to the floor.  Claire pulled up her knees, ready to do 
some situps.  A few groaning tries later, she realized it wasn't going to happen.  She had to roll herself onto 
her squishy belly to get up.
	"Now I see why I'm fat.  It's so much easier..."

	The weeks passed, and Claire's weight climbed.  She stuck to wearing the loosest clothing she 
could, lots of over-sized track suits and sun dresses.  Over a month and a half after leaving her last job, 
Claire got worried about her lack of funds.  Determined not to call her friend Joey for help (or a loan), 
Claire nearly applied for an Aerobic Training job she'd seen advertised.  When she went through her 
routine at home, however, she found that there was a great increase in the amount of jiggling when she 
huffed through her "beginner" program.
	"There's no way I can do this," Claire exclaimed, winded and red-faced long before she'd finished 
the exercise.  "But I need a job!"

	Taking home groceries, Claire caught a glimpse of a "Help Wanted" sign in the window of a store.  
She was getting desperate for income, and any such notices grabbed her interest.  She was dismayed to find 
it was in the window of the local Donut Shop.  
	"It's probably only minimum wage," Claire muttered to herself.
	Upon entering the shop, a perky young girl (probably a student, Claire thought) called from behind 
the counter, "What can I get you, ma'am?"
	"Just a job application, please."
	The girl beamed.  "No need for that, why don't you just come by for an interview tommorow.  
What would be a good time for you?"
	"Um, ten in the morning?" Claire replied, caught offguard by the speed at which her employment 
process was progressing.
	"Great, see you then," the girl said, with a wave and a smile.  "Oh, and bring a resume with you!"

	Sitting at a Donut Shop table, across from the perky girl, whose name was Jennifer, and who also 
turned out to be the manager, Claire was getting nervous.  She regretted her choice of clothing, which was a 
conservative, somewhat formal ensemble that had grown very tight.  Her blouse was revealing every roll 
and bulge in its creases.  She only hoped that it wasn't visible to Jennifer that her skirt was unzipped, 
allowing her to sit down.
	"Well, Claire," Jennifer said as the interview concluded, "you have a great resume - over-qualified 
for this job, but we'll overlook that - and you seem like a sweet, friendly person.  I'm prepared to offer you 
the job, but first I have to ask you this one qustion: Do you like donuts?"
	Claire looked blanky at Jennifer for a moment.  "Uh, well, yes.  I love donuts," she finally replied, 
hoping it was the answer that Jennifer was looking for.
	"Come on, lets try a few," Jennifer said, and got up from the table.  She walked behind the 
counter.  Claire heaved herself out of the little seat and followed.  Jennifer paused in front of the donut 
rack.  It was a brightly-lit display that stood seven feet tall and twenty feet long.  "These are our selections," 
Jennifer announced, flourishing her hand like a game show hostess showing off prizes.  "Take your pick, 
which is your favorite?"
	"Jelly," Claire said, and pointed to where the fattening treats covered in icing sugar waited for 
someone to eat them.
	"Have one," Jennifer said. Claire started to shake her head to decline the offer, but Jennifer 
interrupted, "Consider it part of the interview.  Have one."
	Claire picked up a Jelly donut and took a bite.
	"My favorite is the double-chocolate glazed," Jennifer said.  Claire chewed and nodded.  "We have 
a special recipie that is just out of this world, the chocolate cake stays moist and the icing goes hard.  It 
melts in your mouth as soon as you bite into it.  Oh boy, is it good!  Try one?"
	Claire was still licking the icing sugar off of her fingers when Jennifer held out the inviting 
chocolate morsel.  Claire accepted it, not sure if this was still part of the interview or not.
	A couple of donuts later, Jennifer held out her hand to Claire.
	"I'm prepared to offer you a job, Claire, if you'd like it.  You obviously have a real appreciation for 
donuts, and that's exactly the sort of person I'm looking for."
	Claire accepted Jennifer's hand, and through a mouth still full of cake, she mummbled her thanks.
	"You can start tommorow at noon."

	Claire walked home wondering what she'd gotten herself into.  She needed to lose weight, not get 
fatter eatting donuts.  The truth was, she honestly did like donuts - and all snacks and junk food, for that 
matter.  Even without the benefit of Destino's intervention, her appetite had proved to be too much for her 
to control.  She was fat again, and this time she had no one to blame but herself.  Well, Claire thought, 
maybe Sara Lee could take a little of the blame.
	Upon entering her apartment, it was only seconds before Claire had stripped off her constricting 
clothing.
	"There's only one thing I can do," Claire said to herself.  "I'll have to exercise a little will power 
and not eat donuts."  She sighed at the thought. "Well, maybe one a day wouldn't hurt, I just won't gorge 
myself."

	After just two months on the job, it was obvious that Claire had a flair for customer service.  She 
worked mainly behined the counter, dealing with customers, cleaning up, and basically freeing Jennifer to 
work on other things better suited to a manager.  Claire was friendly and outgoing, delighting just about 
every customer that came into the store.  It wasn't long before she knew some of them by name.  Many 
times a day she heard her name called out, as the regular customers came through the door and waved 
hello.
	Jennifer, too, was thrilled, and really took a shine to Claire.  When the shop was quiet, they would 
spend their time chatting and laughing.  Other than a couple of part-time employees (usually an endlessly 
changing string of high school or college students), Jennifer and Claire were the only staff at the shop.  
Claire liked it that way, she started to enjoy her job more than she ever thought she could have.
	She also enjoyed the free donuts.  Jennifer made the donuts in the back of the shop, and every 
couple of days she would try a new recipie, trying to make what she called "the ultimate donut."
	"Claire, come try one of these," Jennifer excalimed, running from the back room and almost 
knocking Claire over in the process.
	"Okay, okay, I'll try it, just try to stay calm!" Claire said, giggling.
	"You don't understand," Jen said in a whisper, "I think I'm close!  This batch is really, really good.  
It might be-"
	"The ultimate donut?" Claire shouted.  "You said that about the batch last Tuesday, and I thought 
yesterday's were better than those."
	Jennifer pushed a tray of donuts under Claire's nose.  "Just try."
	Claire picked one off the tray a took a bite.  After a few chews, her eyes started to open wide.  She 
started to chew faster, then took two more bites in rapid succession.
	"This is really good," Claire said, trying not to spit out any bits of deep-fried cake.
	Jennifer beamed, nodded her head, and raised the tray again.
	Claire made quick work of the first donut, then grabbed two more, one in each hand.  Chewing, 
swallowing and moaning in ecstasy, she gobbled down a fourth.
	"They're really great, Jen," Claire said, an expression of pure delight on her face.
	Jennifer took a bite of one and regarded the donut carefully, turning it around and inspecting it as 
though it were a piece of jewlery.
	"Yeah, but I'm not sure it's 'the ultimate,'" she said.
	"I know I shouldn't," Claire began, then paused.  She looked down at her feet as she felt her face 
start to flush.  "Do you have any more?"
	"Sure, they're in the back on the counter.  I'll watch the front, go help yourself."
	Claire smiled sheepishly and headed into the back room.
	There were perhaps two dozen of Jen's new creations lying in a pile on the counter.  Claire 
grabbed a carton of milk and helped herself.  She knew she shouldn't be pigging out like this, especially 
when she hadn't had any success at slowing her increasing weight.  For some reason she just shrugged this 
off, and started munching on a donut, washing it down with some milk.
	Flipping through a newspaper, Claire continued to sip her drink and absent-mindedly munch on 
the stack of donuts.  She wasn't paying attention, engrossed in a news article, when Jennifer came into the 
back room.
	"Claire!" Jennifer exclaimed, snapping Claire out of her trance.
	Claire almost spilled the carton of milk, she was surprised by Jennifer's outburst.  "What is it?  
What's the matter?"
	"The donuts," Jen began, but her voice trailed off.
	Claire looked down at the little pile of donuts.  There were only five left.  Claire looked at the tiny 
bit of donut that she was left holding.  Part of her wanted to finish off the rest, stuff it into her mouth and 
quench her thirst with a chug of milk.  But even she was suprised at her gluttony, and she didn't dare eat 
anything else in front of Jennifer.
	"Um," Claire mumbled, and looked to Jennifer.  Claire's boss was wide-eyed and staring, glancing 
from the dimished lot of donuts to Claire.  "I guess I didn't realize what I was doing," Claire said softly, 
"they were really good."
	"I guess they were," Jen agreed in amazement.
	Claire could only guess what Jennifer was thinking.  Jen had seen Claire's appetite in action 
before, but she'd probably never seen anyone polish off two dozen donuts at once.
	"Uh, I guess we should get back to work," Jennifer said finally, shaking her head.
	Claire nodded and walked back out to the front of the store.  Jennifer just looked at the five, lonely 
donuts, unblinking and mouth hanging open.

	"Well, I guess it's about time I headed home," Claire said, struggling into her jacket that no longer 
fit.  The buttons at the front wouldn't meet anymore, no matter how hard Claire tugged on them, although 
the garment was only six weeks old.  "Have a good night, Jen.  I'll see you tommorow."
	Just as Claire was opening the door to leave, Jen ran out of the back room, a paper bag in her hand.
	"Wait, Claire!  These are for you!" Jen cried, as she rushed to pass the bag to Claire.
	Claire accepted the paper bag.  She opened it to see what was inside - it was the five donuts.
	"Oh, Jen, that's very sweet.  You really shouldn't have, though," and patted her bloated stomach 
meaningfully.  "I've had far too many donuts for one day!"
	Jen smiled sweetly, and patted Claire on the back.  "Take them, just in case.  They'll just go to 
waste here.  Besides, tommorow I'm going to improving the recipie.  I'll make the ultimate donut 
eventually."
	"Thanks," Claire said, and started her journey home.
	The bag was half empty before she even arrived.

	Claire hauled herself out of bed to the usual sound of the alarm.  She went through her usual 
morning routine of showering and cleaning up.  She struggled into the tight uniform, as she did everyday.  
She'd been at the Donut Shop for almost a full year by this point, and fighting to get into her uniform was a 
regular occurrence.  Jennifer was so sweet to her, however, that she rarely ever had to ask to have a larger 
one ordered.  Jen usually suggested it, making some excuse in order to be kind to Claire and her obviously 
ballooning weight.  As far as bosses went, Claire thought Jen was about the best.  Jen was more than a boss, 
she was a friend, as good a friend as Claire ever had. That included such close, wonderful friends as the 
Stewart sisters.
	Sitting at the breakfast table, Claire had a moment of self-realization: She felt incredibly content.  
As she thought about it, it amused her.  In the past she always thought about "making a difference," as they 
say.  She wanted to change people's lives through aerobics, she wanted to protect people and save them as a 
superhero.  Now, here she was, happier than ever, and she worked in a Donut Shop.  Claire sighed.  As 
soon as she sighed, she heard a ripping sound.
	"Oh no," she whispered, and fumbled in pushing herself away from the table.  She hurried to the 
bathroom so she could see a mirror.  She couldn't see or feel whatever ripped, but she could guess what it 
was.  The  mirror confirmed her suspicion - her pants could no longer contain her expanding gut, and the 
cloth that covered her larger, lower-bulge below her belt line was torn, from belt to crotch.  "Damn!"

	Claire entered the shop, waddling as usual, and looking sheepish.  She wore a pair of over-
burdened stretch pants instead of her regular uniform pants.  The stretch pants didn't leave anything to the 
imagination.  The incredible bulge of Claire's lower gut, hanging out in front of her, looked like it could 
practically tear the seams apart.  The outline of her super-sized underwear was even visible underneath.  
Every roll and bulge was plainly visible.  Jennifer gave her a confused look.
	"I need a larger uniform," Claire said, looking down at the table in front of her.  "Again."
	Jennifer smiled.  "That's okay, Claire.  There'll be a new one waiting for you tommorow."  She 
patted Claire on the shoulder.  "Don't feel bad about it."
	Claire nodded, embarrassed, and waddled away to begin her duties.

	Growing really quite massive, and lacking her old super powers to help her cope, Claire started to 
experience some difficulty at the Donut Shop.  Bending over very far was out of the question, her great 
weight being thrown off balance and her huge belly and thighs preventing her.  As a result, Jennifer 
stopped using the bottom shelves.
	Just the walk to the shop was enough to exhaust Claire, and she spent a good deal of time on her 
feet at work.  She tried to minimize the movement required.  Her walk had been reduced to a slow waddle, 
with her hugely thick thighs rubbing against each other constantly.  The size of her wide hips and gigantic, 
round buttocks limited where she could go without getting stuck.  She could hardly even squeeze through 
the doorway into the back room where Jennifer made the donuts anymore.
	Claire spent most of her time greeting and serving customers at the front counter.  While she stood 
there, the blubbery flesh of her belly would spill over onto the countertop.  She couldn't put her hands on 
the counter without the soft, excess flesh of her stomach flowing over it.
	Still, customers loved her warm smile and friendly greetings, despite her smile being surrounded 
by an increasingly round face.  Her pudgy cheeks and growing chin were impossible to miss, despite the 
fact that she was growing her hair long in an attempt to hide her fattening features.

	"Can I help you, sir?" Claire asked.
	It was what she asked all the men who came to the counter.  This particular man didn't react in a 
regular way, however.  He stopped in his tracks, and looked at Claire as though he were stunned.  Claire 
looked back at him, still smiling.
	"Is everything all right, sir?" she asked.
	"I know you," he said, his voiced almost a whisper.
	Claire creased her brow.  "You do?  Really?"  She started to feel badly that she couldn't remember 
this person.  Maybe he was just mistaken?
	There was a pause.  Then the man pointed at her, his mouth agape.
	"You're Gravity Girl!" he shouted.
	Claire stood stunned for a moment.  Jennifer came out of the back room and stood in the doorway 
when she heard the customer shout.
	"I'm sorry, sir, you must have confused me with somebody else," she said, her voice betraying her 
nervousness.
	"No, I'm sure it's you," the man said, approaching the counter.  "You don't remember me, do you?"
	Claire shook her head.  Frightened, she tried to back away from the man.  She could only retreat 
about four inches before the spread of her fat butt pressed against the wall.  The man grabbed the sleeve of 
her shirt and pulled her forward, causing a thick roll of Claire's belly flesh to bulge over the counter.
	"You put me away in jail!" the man shouted, and pulled out a gun.  "I'll never forget you!  And 
now you're going to pay!"
	Both Claire and Jennifer's eyes went wide.  Jennifer ducked in behind the doorway.  She couldn't 
get to the phone without risking getting shot - she'd have to wait for an opening.  In the meantime, the 
gunman led Claire around the counter, then forced her plump, round arm up behind her back.  Claire 
grimaced with discomfort.
	The gunman stood behind his captive, holding Claire's arm behind her back.  With his other hand, 
he pointed the gun into the abundant flesh of her right breast.  In this awkward position, with her belly and 
chest thrust forward, Claire's shirt rode up, and part of her bare, flabby, belly flesh spilled forward.  The 
gunman tentatively poked her enormous, round, bulging gut with the gun, before sticking it back into her 
her breast.

	"What do you want?" Claire asked, fighting back tears.
	"Revenge," the gunman growled, "against the woman who put me behind bars!  Gravity Girl!"
	Claire's mind raced.  There were so many criminals that she'd defeated when she was Gravity Girl, 
she couldn't possibly remember every single one of them.  For the first time, she wished she still had her 
powers!  But she didn't, she was just a powerless, fat lady taken hostage, who was probably going to end up 
getting shot.
	"I'm not Gravity Girl!" she cried.
	"Don't lie to me," spat the gunman, "I'd know that fat face anywhere.  Even if you've gotten even 
fatter, it's not going to confuse me."
	Claire began to sob, and with each sob her soft, vast belly jiggled and shook.  "If I was Gravity 
Girl, don't you think I'd use my power to stop you right now?"  Tears ran down her cheeks.
	The gunman seemed to consider this.  Claire felt the press of the gun into her flesh lighten.  As he 
thought about this information, Claire heard a thud.  Suddenly the gunman let go, and fell to the floor.
	Claire turned to see what had happened.  Jennifer stood over the unconscious gunman, holding a 
40-pound fire extinguisher in her hands.
	"Thanks," Claire blubbered, wiping tears away from her eyes.  She tried to pull her shirt down to 
cover her exposed belly, unsuccessfully.
	"No sweat.  I've called the cops, they're on their way," Jennifer said, smiling.

	Jennifer tied the gunman's hands behind his back.  He was still out cold.  Claire leaned against the 
counter, munching on a glazed chocolate donut.  Her belly still hung free, her eyes were red from tears.
	"So are you Gravity Girl, for real?" Jen asked playfully.
	Claire looked at her for a long moment, then shook her head.
	"Too bad.  It would have been kind of cool to have a super hero working in the shop."
	Jennifer smiled.  Claire smiled back at her.
	"You look like you could use another donut, Claire," Jennifer said.
	Claire sniffled and nodded, pulling down on the shirt that she knew would never cover the fat of 
her belly.



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