Whole Milk's Great Greasy Work Ethic Seminar

It was about closing time at the Greasy Slut, and most of the mares had gone home. A few were left to help with the washing up. Meanwhile, you sit in your office, tapping your finger expectantly on your desk. The office was dim, with the curtains drawn and the lights turned down. Suffice to say, you were not in a good mood. Whispers among the other mares, as well as a few complaints from concerned customers had raised your ire. Fortunately, you knew just how to handle this problem...

Just then, the door flew open. In came one of the crowd favorite mares, Whole Milk. She was wildly popular among most of the clientele, owing to her wide hips, round belly and insatiable appetite for food and attention. "You called for me, boss?" she asked nervously.
"Yes, Miss Milk," you reply coldly, easing into the familiar finger-clasp pose "There's a problem we need discuss. Have a seat."
Milk smiled shyly as she trotted up to you. "So...uh...What's the problem, boss?" she asks with an embarrassed cough.
"I think you know what the issue is, Miss Milk," you reply sharply, "All the other mares have told me about your failing work ethic...especially its effect on your waistline."
At that, Milk squished a hoof into her pudgy belly, then looked back up with a confused expression. "So I lost a few pounds and took some inches off my tummy," she says dismissively, "So what?"
"SO WHAT?!" You slam your hands onto your desk, making Milk jump to her hooves. You calm down, trying to stay composed. "Miss Milk, do you know why folks come here?" You ask with an exasperated tone, "They don't just come here for the food. They're here for the mares. For their thick, juicy rumps. For their bountiful jiggling bellies, fit to burst with anything our customers feed them. For you, Miss Milk, to callously disregard the needs of our clients is unacceptable.
"But I am willing to let you redeem yourself. You may continue working at the Greasy Slut, but you are on probation until further notice. Understood?" Whole Milk seemed to visibly deflate at your reprimand, slumping down until she was seated on her plush rump again. "O-okay, boss. Sorry to disappoint you." Her ears drooping and head hung in shame, she collected herself and walked out of your office.

After all that, Whole Milk decided to clock out and go home. As she was grabbing her things from the shelf, one of the staff tapped her shoulder. "Excuse me, Milk? You're needed backstage."
"What?" She said incredulously, "But we don't have any shows right now." The staffpony said nothing else, shrugging his shoulders and heading out. Puzzled, she made her way backstage. She hated staying at the restaurant around closing time, so she wanted to get this over with quickly.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Milk called out as she stepped back behind the stage. There was no answer. Sighing, she turned around, but before she could walk out, a heavily-tattooed hoof shot out of the shadows beside her.
"Going somewhere, Milky?" A sultry voice teased. Out stepped one of the other Greasy Slut mares. She had a build similar to Milk's, though with a plumper butt and slimmer belly compared to her. Her coat was covered in tattoos, her mane was short and wild, and piercings adorned her face.
"P-Punk Gutt!" Milk blurted, "What's going on here?!" Punk just rested a hoof on Milk's shoulder, a ferocious look in her eyes.
"Just a little thing the boss arranged," Punk replied with a smirk, "We all noticed you really half-assing it lately, and we aim to fix that."

Two other mares stepped out, pulling carts loaded with the Slut's usual fare: thick hayburgers, crispy hayfries and a wide assortment of hot apple treats. "Now, have a seat right over there." Punk purred, practically dragging Whole Milk over to some cushions. With a heavy shove, Milk was on her haunches, and was immediately surrounded by the three sultry, sexy thick mares.
"Aw, just look at her girls! She looks positively famished~!"
"I could've sworn your butt was bigger than that~..."
"And look at your belly! It looks like it hasn't had a decent meal in WEEKS~!"
Whole Milk shuddered as hooves groped every inch of her body, patting her rump and squeezing her belly. She's been no stranger to this sort of attention, and appreciated a good bellyrub from a client when she was stuffed, but this...
"Now open wide!" screeched Punk, grabbing a hayburger and cramming it into Milk's mouth. Milk sputtered, trying to spit it out, but Punk's hoof was firmly clamped over her lips. "Nuh-uh, Milky. You're gonna eat all this here. And you're not leaving until that belly is ready to pop." The other mares joined in, alternating between feeding Milk hooffulls of fries and burgers and patting her tummy while whispering sweet nothings in her ears. The showmare barely had time to breathe amidst the onslaught of greasy food, her mouth drowning in a stream of salty and savory flavors, interspersed with tangy ketchup squirted into her mouth along with whatever was stuffed into it. All the while, her belly swelled as it strained to contain the massive meal pushed down her gullet.
"She's starting to look better, isn't she girls?" Punk said with a chuckle.
"Oh yeah, just look at that gut!"
"Just think, all that flab she'll put on..."

Whole Milk ate for what felt like hours, her brain struggling to keep straight as she fought against a heavy food coma. She looked down, seeing the bloated dome of her belly rising up, blocking the view of her hind legs. Punk's assistants fawned all over her, rubbing, squeezing, even kissing her swollen belly. "Aw-hic-Alright girls...ah...I think i'm -urp-...guh...done now..." Milk panted, her hooves hugging her now aching stomach.
"Oooh, but Milky," Punk pouted pleadingly, "You can't go now! You haven't your dessert yet!
"Des-brurp-dessert?" Milk said, groaning as her stomach throbbed painfully. At that, the other two mares produced a huge glass loaded with a thick, creamy milkshake. "It's even your favorite flavor," Punk purred, "Choco-malt with cookie crumble. We spent all night getting this one ready, just for you!" A hose was yanked out by one of Punk's assistants, one end dipped into the shake, the other offered to Milk. "Now start sucking, piggy."
With a groan, Milk shoved the hose into her mouth and sucked with all her might. Instantly, her mouth was flooded with cold, sweet ice cream, a nice contrast against the homogeneous mess of hayburgers stuffed into her moments ago. Though the sweetness of the chocolate, cream and crumbled cookies were small comfort to the massively bloated pony. She squeezed her eyes shut, straining to gulp down each mouthful. Her belly started to visibly swell with each swallow, leaving little room for breathing, or much of anything to be honest. Milk's breaths grew shorter and more painful as her bloated gut squished into her lungs. All the while, Punk and her backup vocalists cooed to her, trying to comfort Milk with gentle belly rubs.
"Come on, Milky. It's not that big."
"Suck it down, piggy. We know you got room still."
"You'll have such a nice tummy after this~..."

Ten minutes passed, and eventually the glass ran out, the last of the shake sucked down the hose with a faint gurgle to join the rest of it in the blimped belly before it. Whole Milk moaned, her stomach beyond stuffed, pulsating as it struggled to digest its massive meal. Suddenly, there was a loud gurgle from within...
BWWWOOOOAAARRRP!
The bone-rattling belch shook everything in the room, even knocking some things off nearby shelves. Punk Gutt clapped her hooves, the other two mares following suit. "Congratulations, Milky! You did it!"
"Congratulations!"
"Congratulations!"

All Milk could do was groan, her hooves curled around the sloshing expanse of her tummy. Punk sat down next to her, curled up against her partner's belly. "Alright girls, that's enough. I'll stay here and keep this fatass company for the night." The mares smiled and waved goodbye as they strutted out of the room. Punk leaned over Milk's belly, bringing herself face to face with her stuffed partner. "You're gonna keep these curves, aren't you?" Milk, unable to speak, just nodded.
"You're gonna keep strutting your stuff at the tables? You're gonna shake your fat ass for everypony, and let them stuff your fat belly until you can barely move?"
More nods, followed by a whine as Punk pushed on her belly slightly.
"Good to hear. I'll let the boss know. Maybe he'll take you off probation."

Whole Milk sighed, her hooves resting on the gurgling hill that was her belly. Punk had already cuddled up to it, her hooves sprawled against its bloated mass. At least I get to keep my job, Milk thought glumly, running a hoof across the taut surface of her tummy. Her eyelids grew heavy as she began to fall into a deep food coma.

A few moments later, you arrive backstage to check in on Whole Milk. You found her passed out on the floor, her face coated with a mess of ketchup and ice cream, and a sleeping Punk Gutt hugging her groaning belly. You smile, satisfied that your plan worked out in the end. You made a mental note to try this again when any of the mares started to slim down. None of them would dare try again, especially not your best butterball, Whole Milk.