Brooklyn Nine-Nine: The Graveyard Shift (Rosa WG)

There was roughly 350-odd pounds within the entirety of the precinct.

No, there wasn’t some poor sap who was encumbered by all that weight themselves--just two very unlucky women who got stuck with reorganization of files at the same time. Said two had to be made examples of by Captain Holt, lest the rest of the department share their same fate. But it was only one night, what was the worst that could happen?

Irony to that previous statement. Irony could happen.

Detective Diaz hefted a fat stack of manilla folders up, cradling her arms beneath them as she made her way down the desks in the main office. While her face was never usually caught in a smile, it was even worse today, actively in look that was a cross between a wince and total frustration. As she moved, the tight, trapped flesh of her thighs chafed painfully against itself, the chub rub causing red marks beneath her pants. She would love to complain about it at detail, but that would mean admitting she had issues with her pants’ tightness, basically meaning...well, yeah, she got fat.

Captain Holt hadn’t just assigned them to menial work this past night alone. No, it had been an utter streak of disciplinary action by him to send Rosa to file management and other organizational duties, ever since it came to light she’d ‘allegedly’ caused a mental breakdown in a suspect during interrogation.

The only one backing it up as an ‘allegation’ not-so coincidentally was Rosa.

With an ass planted in a comfortable office chair (yay, budget increases!), the only fuel that got her through hours of staring at the dull glow of a computer screen late at night was local Brooklyn pizzeria fare, cheap dozen boxes of donuts, and whatever bottles of soda were left in the break room vending machine.

And Rosa really hated it when there was only diet soda left. A girl needs her sugar.

Compound her poor choice of diet and repeated punishment by desk work, and it was a small wonder that her figure had gone to seed. The armrests and her widening hips were suddenly becoming inseparable, and the desk was definitely starting to get to know her stomach. Her shirts, all of them, rode up easily on her stomach, demanding further reprimands from Holt over dress-code violations to Diaz’s total apathy. Hell, it spited her into eating more, stuffing sugary donuts and greasy takeout at an increased rate, only accentuating the issue.

With her two tree-trunk thighs shaking the ground slightly as she made each step, Rosa finally made it over to the desk her and Gina deemed big enough to organize the files on. The heavier of the two women let out an exagerated sigh, rubbing her exposed stomach idly. It responded in kind with a grumble, the gut jiggling slightly as she fished in her pockets for a half-eaten candy bar to satiate herself.
Down at the desk, Gina looked up, evidently pleased with herself at the change her co-worker’s figure had experienced.

“You know, if you hit this alphabetizing like you hit all those Krueger’s Dozens boxes…” The administrator broke off into a snort, covering her up-turning lips to hide her smile. Rosa just grunted in response, turning to reveal her mammoth ass.

Each of the two cheeks jiggled in discordance, their fatty forms slapping against one another as her hips swayed with each step. Rosa hated that walking was becoming so much more a struggled nowadays. During the daylight hours, she frequently relied on the scooting functionality of her chair, but even that only went so far. She couldn’t take that to the bathroom, or up the stairs--so she tended to come in early as to avoid anyone seeing the embarrassing sight of her panting and sweating as the detective waddled her overfed body up the stairs. Only one person caught onto her gambit, and she just so happened to be in the room with her. Just thinking about all the times Gina had shown up before her started to weird her out, the way she sat hands folded at her desk with that ‘complimentary’ box of donuts for ‘the precincts’ hardest worker’ with that mischievous grin...it would give her a bad gut feeling if her only gut feeling lately wasn’t being totally stuffed.

As Rosa poked her head into the next room to see if they had left any folders behind, she felt two thin hands grab her by the exposed waist, milky little digits sinking into her soft flesh and moving dexterously. Before she could even question just what was happening, Rosa felt her mouth start to twitch and her cheeks weakening, as a spurt of laughter burst from her lips.

That was the dam breaking on an intense bout of laughter, as she failed to stop herself while Gina’s sudden tickling attack endured. Her assailant-of-sorts was cracking a wide grin of her own, clearly having the time of her life at the expense of her fellow coworker.

Still, the spark of resistance was still dormant in that doughy body, and Rosa flailed her soft arms backward at her attacker in a vain attempt to push her away. However, the sheer lack of coordinance robbed from her by the tickling proved to be enough to stop this, as Gina continued her giggling torment, both of their laughs filling the office space.

“L-Linetti--pff, haha! I-I, *snrk* I can’t take this! Come on, l-let--” She stopped, breathlessly laughing further to the point that her stomach hurt, not noticing that the seams running along her pants were starting to split. Bits of thread frayed and eventually burst entirely under the suddenly-shaking weight of their wearer, exposing fleshy windows of her legs and stomach all for Gina to see.

“Holy shit, you’re just spilling out now! If I press the right spots, are ya gonna squeal, piggy?” Gina taunted, jabbing her index finder in some of Gina’s exposed flesh while still working her other hand on keeping Rosa busy with tickles. The doughy detective doubled over, hands flying to her stomach to try and massage the pain from laughing. As she went down, the seam right between her ass cheeks pulled apart, exposing her red pair of panties, and just how eaten they were by the deep expanse of her asscrack. The tickling assistant moved down lower with her, just to continue moving her hands up and down flesh and knead it in that horribly infectious tickling.

“P-Please, hahaha, I-I’ll do anything! P-P-Pass off my lunch for a week, come to w-work in my underwear, just stop stop sto--ahahahahah!” She couldn’t even finish her sentence, it was just that strong. Gina devilishly grinned behind her.

“That first one’s impossible for you, fatass.” She said, punctuated with a cop of Rosa’s plush, exposed ass. “You probably can’t go half an hour without half a sandwich stuffed in your face, huh?” Gina reached around, hands grabbing at her victim’s stomach to tickle there, further tormenting her victim. As she rolled, her too-small jacket began to rip at the arms, audibly coming undone along with her undershirt. The ground became a veritable graveyard of broken fibers and thread, with an overweight giant of a woman rolling on top of them, tears rolling down her face.

Rosa finally caught her breath and rolled onto her back, desperate to fill her lungs with all the air that was lost with her induced laughter. Gina, ever ready to torment the fat detective more, sat atop her thighs looking down on her. Her hands rubbed the flabby prisoner’s stomach with a wicked fervor, kneading and shaking all that soft flesh. With that same energy, she ripped at the front of her pants, unbuttoning her and letting loose the rest of her fatty middle to the air, with all the more flesh to grab at.

“You’re really getting some kind of sick thrill from this, huh, Gina?” Rosa spat, wriggling her body beneath her to no avail. Despite the assistant’s lithe frame, it was near impossible for her to work up the strength to get her off. All her muscle must’ve quite literally turned to flab. Once again, her decision to try donuts as pizza toppings, although creative, was proving to be a very poor long-term decision in regards to her figure.

“What gave it away? Was it--”

“Please don’t--”

“This!?”

Once more, her hands dug deep into Rosa’s sides, hands scratching in just that right fashion to make her lose total control of herself, uncontrollably laughing. She breathlessly interjected whenever she could, her pleas for relief falling upon Gina’s deaf ears. Gina in turn would simply whisper torturing taunts to Rosa to remind her of how far her figure had fallen, with absolutely sickening pleasure coloring each syllable.

“How much would it kill your career if anyone saw you right now? Fat ass getting acquainted with the floor, not an inch of you that isn’t jiggling--I’d say your career would be dead as that hamster you brought home in fourth grade for the weekend!”

“That--h-hah!--w-was my sister a-and you know it!! S-Stop tick--pffhaaa-ha-ha! Stop tickling me! Pleasepleasepleaseplease!” Every other noise out of her mouth was some sort of groveling.

“As if! Why would I pass up the opportunity now? Hell, I could snap a few pics here for blackmail, in case you get lippy with me. Would you like that?”

The answer from Rosa was more than a little confusing, as her face was spread in a massive grin, and yet she was firmly shaking her head. Gina had no clue which expression to take as her answer...but it was a rhetorical question anyways. She was always snapping candid photos with Rosa’s stomach hanging out as she shoved pastries and greasy confections in her face. Gina took great pride in the effort, considering it a scavenger hunt of sorts to amass as many photos displaying her coworker’s gluttony as possible in a day. Her record was in the twenties, last she recalled.

“Don’t! D-Don’t, I-I have to--”

“What,” Gina interrupted, her hands pressing down on Rosa’s gut, forcing her to exhale, “you won’t have any more money to feed that ass of yours? Trust me, it’s fed enough! Remember that time you knocked over a file cabinet turning too fast? Or you knocked over Peralta’s stack of folders, again, with your ass?” She struggled to lift up Rosa enough to cop a cheek.

“Face it--this seat-filler is more of a serial criminal than anyone we process here. Heh, think we can put you on trial for all the donut families you’ve orphaned?”

“Urghhhh…” Rosa groaned, stomach growling, “I think I preferred you when you were just trying to tickle me out of consciousness…”

Gina huffed, walking away from her floorbound captive. Curious, Rosa traced her path with her eyes, not realizing that her tormentor had returned much faster than she previously believed, a fresh box of…

Oh no.

Krispy Kremes, a 24-box. Clutched in those thin, devilish hands of hers.

“Don’t like the insults? Please, try some of the alternative!”

Without even getting a word of protest in, Rosa was forced to chew the first of the donuts to be shoved between her lips. She begrudgingly chewed and swallowed, flecks of icing and sugar coating her chubby cheeks. Her stomach immediately felt the lump of fatty treat drop in it, along with the next she was forced to consume. She struggled to get in breaths between every bite, only the occasional belch from how sheerly stuffed she was escaping. Gina had a fervent determination to make sure all of the donuts in the box outside her stomach were quickly put inside it, and from how much room she had left in her gut, Rosa had to bet she would succeed at that goal.

As the donuts dwindled in the box, Rosa felt a bit of relief, despite her stomach bulging out from her pelvis even further than before. That is, until…

“Oh, we’re out--let me run across the street for some more. Don’t move!” Gina said with pep, running out. Rosa merely gave in and sat there for her feeder’s return with dread...and a twinge of anticipation.