Chapter Text
It was just another day in the mall. The mall was empty, customers herded out and workers went home after closing up. James was making a last round to check everything over before night shift came in. And given how timely the night shift was, he knew he had plenty of time to kill. It was honestly boring going around the mall, even choosing to walk knowing he’d have the time. His round would take him past the food court, something he needed to walk in to check more thoroughly given the types of things that could be left unlocked. Not that he thought anyone could steal anything but never know. Plus he knew how often those new hires and old hires that didn’t give a shit would leave things out. Sure it was more than his job entailed but he liked to be helpful here and there.
His normal walk through the food stands was going in from the back and checking doors were locked, front gates closing the counter off was secured, and that nothing that shouldn’t be out was put away. A perk of working here long enough was that he learnt how things were meant to look in the back of these places. Mostly came from his rounds checking that he self taught himself what went where and using his breaks to come in from the back to bother the older employees who knew him for food.
But walking into the back in the first place and towards the front, he already saw a problem. It was the burger joint in the corner, one he visited enough to know the menu in and out. He could see the slushie machine still running, churning the half frozen drinks. It was even still full to the top, likely refilled before they left but forgot to shut it off. It wasn’t unheard of for them to forget to shut things off or lock something up, but this was new.
He’d walk over to the machine, checking to see how to shut it off. A simple switch, easy enough to shut it down himself. But that was the logical side of him, the good noodle who wants to do his job. But another part of him had him thinking of those childhood whimsies and memories of cartoons. Those scenes of characters drinking slushie right from the tap and being a kid and wishing he could do that. This was likely the perfect time he could achieve that childhood dream, no one around to catch him and no one around to judge him either.
James would look at the camera he knew was there, checking if it was online. If he was right, it would be off like most cameras deemed ‘unimportant’ just because they weren’t pointed at a bougie store to play favorites. He always did think the mall owner was scummy like that. And seeing that tell tale light off, he knew he had a private moment all to himself. No one to watch him, no recording. He could get away with this if he really wanted to. And he really does want to.
With the plan decided, he’d move to live this dream. James did need to take a moment to find the best way to position himself, noting that most of the ways cartoons did were very unrealistic. But he’d find the best position to line up with the dispenser, practically kneeling below the machine to have his mouth just under the dispenser and his hand on the lever. He couldn’t deny being giddy about being able to do this, bit of some rule breaking and indulging in some whimsy. Beats just filling up on his tv dinners in the break room waiting to do shift change.
After one last look around, he’d finally start. Pulling down the lever enough to start a slow flow, he’d open his mouth as it began to pour. He had picked the blue raspberry flavoring, his personal favorite to get and now what he’s living out the dream with. It definitely was cold in his mouth, sending a shiver through him as it went. As his mouth filled he’d swallow it down, the cold travelling down his throat and settling in his stomach.
Eagerly, he’d drink down more and more, enjoying the flavor. He easily fell into a rhythm of gulping down the slushie, holding a steady pace. Those cartoons really were on the money on how freeing and enjoyable this was. He could definitely understand the novelty of doing this now. Granted it was cold as well, his stomach growing colder the more he drank which spread to the rest of him. But he could put up with it till he had his fill even as he started to shiver.
James would easily down a gallon of the stuff, a capacity any sane man would’ve quit before hand but he was far from that. Be it gluttony, depression, terrible coping mechanisms, or just sheer hedonism in the moment, he kept going. Thanks to his average excessive eating, this hardly felt like much to him as his stomach had long since become used to so much filling it. He could feel his stomach filling with the cold drink, every swallow adding more to its contents. It was comforting to feel so full, even if he needed to push it till he felt that comfort.
Pushing two gallons would have his belly pushing against his uniform, the kevlar vest not giving much room to expand. His current weight already puts strain on the body armor, not much stretch to begin with. He could feel it push back against his stomach, almost compressing it the more he drank. He wouldn’t deny that it felt just as nice to feel the compression. It was just as comforting as being full, enjoying the snug feeling around his middle. In a strange way, it was like a hug to him or like the feeling of a weighted blanket. And yet he kept drinking even as his stomach began to gurgle as he was already pretty full, pushing his limits like he always did.
By the third gallon, he was definitely feeling the strain on his stomach. The cold was doing nothing to distract from the growing ache as he pushed himself. He knew he should stop now but at this rate, he’s already gotten so far and he was chasing that strange mix of discomfort and comfort. Even feeling so uncomfortable and strained, he wanted to keep going as the feelings drowned out his negative thoughts. If he wasn’t using a hand to support himself in this position, he’d likely have had it on his belly to feel it grow and strain under his uniform. He could feel the bottom of his belly pushing out below the vest, the lack of give practically squishing him. His breathing certainly turned more into huffs and puffs through his nose, his stomach pressing into his lungs with no help from the vest. And he still kept going as he aimed for the long shot.
Hitting gallon four had the machine sputtering on empty, the slushie finally running out as it drips out the last of its contents. With it empty, James finally allowed himself to stop, dropping from being on his knees to sitting on the floor. His stomach sloshed and groaned audibly at the action, so much of the slushie crammed inside. His body felt cold from it all, shivers running through him and knowing it’d be a bit before he’d warm up again. His vest was strained around his middle, the kevlar padding having no give and instead riding up his belly. It certainly made breathing feel like a chore as his gut was pressed heavily into his lungs and leaving little room to take deep breathes. What showed of his button down faired no better, the exposed button just as strained to keep together. He knew full well that it’d be the same for the rest of the buttons if he took off his kevlar and freed his belly of the compression.
James couldn’t deny feeling proud of himself for this, draining a slushie machine like he’s always wanted to. He ran a hand along the side of his belly, feeling how taut it was even with the kevlar in the way as he pressed into it. Gas bubbled up his throat, a barely stifled burp escaping him. James knew he was going to need a moment before he got up to finish his round around the mall, not looking forward to the uncomfortable walk around. Definitely was more than he normally did but not his most extreme. And it was definitely not the most pathetic state he’s left himself in on the clock. Plenty of times he’s overeaten into a food coma in the break room and found sleeping on the couch. Certainly made him glad no one was around to see.
But that idea of being alone was quickly shattered as he heard the sounds of footsteps in the kitchen. Dread quickly washed over him. The night shift shouldn’t be here yet and they were normally late! But checking the time proved him wrong. How long was he doing this for!? But he didn’t even get a chance to stand before the one co-worker he didn’t want to see would wander in. Jimmy. He was much older than James by a decade or so, grumpy and certainly didn’t care for James nor did James care for him. But now there Jimmy was, staring down at a spooked James and not looking amused. The older man glanced between the younger one and the slushie machine. It didn't take much to piece James’ current condition and the empty tank together to get the story.
Jimmy frowned, definitely more unamused and if anything annoyed by it all. “Really, James? I come looking for you when you weren’t back at the security room and this is how I find you?” he scoffed, arms crossed like a disappointed father. “Knew you were kinda pathetic but this is next level. Would’ve preferred finding you passed out in the break room to this.” Jimmy would move closer to James, taking in the state of him. His face would scowl at the whole scene before him, almost disgusted at the hedonism.
James would shrink in on himself, avoiding Jimmy’s gaze. He wanted to disappear at this moment, feeling more shame than he thought possible. Caught indulging in his own desires. He starts to try and get up, just wanting to leave the situation before it gets any worse. Not like he even wanted to hear whatever Jimmy had to say about him or to him. “I-I’ll just go… Cl-Clock and whatever…” he’d huff in a quiet voice, not wanting to talk to Jimmy or invite more ridicule.
James was just about to pull himself up to stand when he’d suddenly found a handcuff on the hand he was grabbing the counter with. And then next thing he knew, the handcuff was put through the bar below the countertop and his other hand grabbed and cuffed. He was properly handcuffed to the counter now, unable to get away as he was stuck where he was sitting. He’d look at Jimmy with shock. “Wh-What are you doing…?! G-Get that off! Th-This isn’t funny, Jimmy!” He says, feeling a panic rising as he tries to pull away. But it was no use, the cuffs holding strong against his pulling and only serving to hurt him as they pressed into his hands.
Jimmy would lean down real close now, James unable to scoot away. “Yeah right, fatass. Like I should let you waddle away like a guilt free pig.” He scoffed, his face close to James’ who tried to shy away as he squirmed in the hold. Jimmy grabbed a fist full of his hair, yanking James up to force him into a kneel. “Day after day they let you get away with stuffing yourself stupid on the clock while the rest of us do our jobs. I’ve come in more times than not with you passed out on the couch and no repercussions from higher ups. Sick of this shit.” he growled, looking James in the eye as he forced him to face him.
James was trying to keep calm but panic was quickly overtaking his thoughts. He’s been in all sorts of situations but being held captive and belittled by his co-worker was not one of them. He didn’t think he could feel so small in this moment, helpless to do much as his hands were cuffed and his stomach was starting to feel uneasy from the stress. He couldn’t even respond to Jimmy, unsure himself how he hasn’t been punished or even fired at this point. James could only internally berate himself for letting himself give in to a childish idea and getting into trouble for it. He should’ve just turned it off and walked away like he was meant to. Now he was just trying not to cry as Jimmy talked down to him, words stinging.
Jimmy’s eyes would then flick to the machine, noting how there was one whole other tank of slushie still mixing away, before glaring down at James’ bloated gut which groaned in distress. An idea clicked into his head as a malicious grin spread across his face. He’d pull up James even further, changing his grip from his hair to his jaw. Jimmy would hold James under the spout of the cherry slushie, using his fingers to force his mouth open as he pressed into his cheeks. “May as well finish what you started, fatass. Weren’t gonna just let this one go to waste too, right?” he says, his voice malicious and harsh. Without waiting for whatever answer James could’ve given, he’d pull down the lever to the machine.
The flow was faster than what James had done, barely giving him much time to swallow a mouthful before more filled it. He was trying not to choke between the speed and the painful hold on his face. His stomach noisily complained about there being more, a gurgling groan and a pang of pain from being too full. He’d try to squirm out of Jimmy’s hold, to pull away, but it only served for the hold to get tighter. Even if he managed to get out of the hold he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere anyway, not with the handcuffs holding him there. And when he just tried not to swallow, Jimmy had stopped the flow just to pinch his nose closed and forced him to swallow just so he could breathe. It was now he started to cry, those tears that threatened before flowing down his face.
That first gallon was far from pleasant in these conditions. His stomach felt so strained as it was pushed to hold so much, groaning in distress. His kevlar definitely didn’t help as it pressed back harshly, giving his stomach little room to expand. He could feel it digging into his sides and his bloated middle. Even his belt was digging into his underbelly, the buckle pressing harshly into his sensitive stomach. Unable to use his hands, he couldn’t adjust anything or even try to soothe himself. James was even trying to support himself with his legs, holding himself up so it wasn’t just Jimmy’s strong hand on his jaw keeping him up. But already they were growing tired thanks to his initial go and shook as they supported his growing weight. He was at Jimmy’s mercy and he didn’t seem keen on giving James any form of relief or comfort.
As they hit the second gallons worth of the second tank, the strain of his stomach was feeling even more painful. He didn’t even think it was possible for him to stomach this much, especially at such a fast pace. Even his sides felt like they bulged under the sheer amount crammed inside him. His lungs felt absolutely smushed by his stomach as it pushed up into them, his breath coming in huffs and puffs. His vest was thankfully riding up his bloated middle but nowhere enough as it practically cinched into his sides and stomach. The stiff material was practically refusing to budge or give, like it wanted to punish him just as much. The buttons that showed were visibly strained against his belly, the bottom button even popping off under the pressure. Jimmy didn’t even loosen his hold on his face, keeping him right under the spout with a malicious grin.
“God I wish I was recording this. That pathetic look you’re giving makes this feel all the more justified. Fatass getting his just desserts.” Jimmy purred harshly. He’d look down to see James’ swelling middle, noting just how big it's gotten between and when he found James. By any normal standards, this would have been too much for any normal man but here is this overweight pig keeping it all down. “Talk about being a fat fuck if you’re stomaching all this. Wouldn’t be surprised if this is how you really eat off the clock, pig.” He’d just get a weak whimper out of James, the other barely able to manage much of a response with his mouth occupied.
The third gallon felt like agony on his stomach. It was already straining so much to contain it. The gurgles and groans sounded angry, voicing against him ingesting any more of the slushie. But he lost the will to fight against Jimmy now, his body all but limp in his hold. He could barely even move if he wanted to, his overburdened stomach only aching more and the building nausea didn’t make it any better. James would just put his energy into swallowing down every mouthful just to not choke, even as every gulp caused another pang of ache. His kevlar finally crossed over the growing circumference of his belly to rest more closer to the top, the plates bunching awkwardly. It at least gave him more room to swell out but now the bottom half of his shirt was freed from the vest. Without the vest to compress his belly, the buttons had strained enough to pop off as well, leaving most of his stomach exposed now. An angry red flush had long since formed in the front of his belly, a clear sign of exceeding his limits and the burden on his stomach. He didn’t even need to look to know he’d have plenty of new stretch marks.
With the final gallon of the tank, it’d sputter and drip what little else it could dispense. Finally, Jimmy would let James go. Poor James would slump down, only his cuffed hands being the thing to support him now. He’d rest his head in his arms, his body leaned forward to let his stomach hang below him. His breathing was heavy, just trying to get enough into his compressed lungs. He felt sick with how overfed he was, as if even breathing too deeply will make him throw up. James couldn’t deny being impressed with himself for not puking by now regardless. Sure this spoke of his resilience but right now it felt like a punishment. A pitiful whine escaped him, the most he could risk at the moment while his stomach attempted to settle.
But he wouldn’t even get the luxury of letting his stomach try to settle as Jimmy came up beside him. He hardly had a chance to know what the other mall cop was up to before he felt the slap to the side of his gut. The action was enough to send slushie up his throat, James barely having time to clear his arms before it forced its way out his mouth. The mess splattered to the floor, a gross mixing of red, blue, and purple where the two drinks mixed. A small whimper and a sob escaped him, unable to hold back from crying. He felt so vulnerable and pathetic being at Jimmy’s mercy, the malicious way the man just glared down at him.
Jimmy would step back to see his handy work, watching as James shivered and cried. It was honestly impressive how much the overweight mall cop could stomach in one sitting. Were he not doing this as an act of personal justice, he would’ve given some sort of comment on his amazement. But right now, he was feeling both disgusted and justified at what he was seeing. “Well now you’re looking like the fat pig you are. Here I thought you couldn’t be any more pathetic but look at you now.” He says, that malicious grin still on his face. Jimmy felt so powerful in this moment, having his least liked co-worker at his mercy.
Jimmy would move to undo the cuff, freeing James from the bar. But instead of taking them both off like James hoped for, he’d just slap it back onto his wrist. He practically reveled in the panicked look James gave him as he grabbed the chain linking them together before he pulled James to his feet. He’d watch as James struggled to stand, feet spread out to balance himself as his body was forced to hunch forward as his stomach pulled him downward. He enjoyed how much James looked ready to puke, struggling to keep it all down. “Fat fuck won’t even let himself puke.” he’d comment to himself, shaking his head.
Much to James’ dismay, Jimmy would start to pull him along, forcing him to walk. He could hardly manage to walk, more so stumbling along. Every step made his stomach jostle and slosh, agony coursing through him. He had to fight with every fiber of his being just to not throw up and even more to keep on his feet. He had no idea where Jimmy planned to drag him, forced to follow along as they left the kitchen and left the food court. He could barely focus on much aside from how much his stomach hurt and keeping on his feet. It was until recognised the store fronts they were passing that he realized they were on their way to the breakroom. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or terrified of this, unsure if Jimmy was looking to torment him further.
As they entered the breakroom, Jimmy would pull James over to the couch and shove him onto it. He’d watch the distressed look on James’ face as the action stirred his upset stomach, some more slushie forcing its way up and spilling over James’ front. More of the colors were mixed together, likely from the walk, as more purple showed than the red and blue. Jimmy would look disgusted by this, as if he hadn’t caused it. “God, you're gross. Just sit there while I make a call. Bout time you got punished for this shit.” He’d growl, walking off to find the office phone. He fully planned to give a report about James’ ‘theft’ and failure to do his job. Jimmy was actually giddy to see the results of this, almost praying that James would finally be fired and the fridge would no longer be filled with utter junk or finding the fatass passed out in the breakroom anymore.
Left in the breakroom alone now, James was finally able to attempt to soothe his roiling gut. The task was made difficult with his hands cuffed together, only able to comfortably reach the top part of his stomach. It had to do as he doubted he could reach the full circumference if he wanted to. He’d tenderly run his hands across the top of his belly, fingers gingerly dancing on the surface. He could feel how drum tight his belly had become, a solid mass beneath his hands. He felt how his stomach gurgled just under the skin, feeling just as upset as it sounded. There was even the sloshing of the melting slushie inside as his stomach started the giant task of churning it all down. He was honestly baffled with himself on how he’d managed to even keep it all down. He had already felt impressed when he handled four gallons so well but eight gallons was insane even for him. Had he really gotten this bad?
Outside the breakroom, he could hear Jimmy on the phone. At first he sounded so proud of himself, claiming to have found James in his current state after emptying both parts of the slushie machine. But then his tone seemed to shift, sounding surprised into concern. Not for James but for himself. From what he could hear, Jimmy was being accused of getting him like this on his own. It seemed the camera that was normally off had turned on, recording the moment of Jimmy forcing him to drink down the slushie clear as day, handcuffs and all. And their boss was looking at that very feed including where it was showing James going into the food court area and Jimmy not so long behind. James could only assume that their boss was putting together his own story on what he thinks happened. He thanked god that those finicky cameras came to his rescue on this. And with the way Jimmy went from trying to defend himself to dejected ‘yes sir’s, he was likely the one reprimanded. When Jimmy walked back into the room, he made it a point to not look at him. He could hear Jimmy muttering under his breath what a lucky son of a bitch he was and how he’ll get him gone one day before uncuffing him and leaving to actually do his job.
For now, James finally had peace and quiet to himself. Great timing as he found a food coma hitting him like a train, eyes fluttering closed and sleep quickly taking him. When he’d wake many hours later, basically at the time he was meant to clock in, he’d find his phone had blown up with a lot of messages from Liam. They ranged from checking in on him to frantic messages asking if he was ok. Of course he was quick to shoot a few of his own frantic messages, telling Liam he was ok and that he fell asleep in the breakroom. He let him know he’d be home after work and apologies for spooking him. When he got those relieved messages back, he’d sigh in relief.
Checking over his current state, he found himself in a far more disheveled state than he’d like. Dried spit up slushie on the front of his kevlar, his button up shirt ruined with missing buttons, his hair a mess, and his face looking gross from crying. And his stomach was still bloated, not yet finished digesting all that slushie even hours after. With a sigh, he’d go to the bathroom to clean up. He tucked his shirt into his pants, pulling the kevlar down to hide the missing buttons. He’d rinse his face in the sink and run his hands through his hair to look somewhat decent. And he did his best to wash off the slush on his front, ready to blame it on an accident if people asked. With himself all cleaned up, he was ready to clock in for his shift. He just debated if he should get breakfast or not.
