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Ava stood closely behind her friend Scout, watching over her shoulder with a studied focus as she punched in the code to disarm the alarm. She punched 5072 plus a couple of other non-numerical buttons into the keypad and then two beeps followed in response to signify that the system had been disarmed. Ava repeated back the combination over and over in her mind to commit it to memory. She had been waiting a few days for an opportunity to witness this and now that she had she could proceed with her plan. Scout collected a few items from behind the countertop and then disappeared through a back door which was for staff only. She had left the door ajar and Ava edged deeper into the room to get a peak at what stood behind. She continued forward all the way to the door and then pushed it open fully. Scout was bent down on her haunches and rooting through a chest of drawers. Her long chestnut hair kept falling down into her face and she had to keep uprooting her hands from the drawers to brush it back behind her ears. Ava surveyed the room which she had not seen before. It was small and cramped with furnishings too big and bulky for the space available. The drawers which Scout were digging through encroached obtrusively into the room and a pine wood desk and office chair were wedged in against the back wall. Along the right hand wall was another bulky piece of shelving which housed a blocky printer, reams of paper, ink cartridges and other office supplies along with a variety of picture frames with photos of Scout’s mother and father in the bakery. She picked up the picture frame that she was drawn to the most. It was a candid photo of Mr. and Mrs. Lewis - Scout’s parents, the proprietors of the establishment; the local bakers -  they both had a large mixing bowl in hand and were smiling joyfully as they kneaded a mixture into dough. They looked a lot younger, it was maybe a photo taken twenty or twenty five years ago, back when they were probably only starting out with the bakery.  In the time since Mr and Mrs Lewis had cemented a fine reputation for themselves and had grown to be respected pillars of the community. Ava knew that she was privileged to be a friend of the family, although through this closeness she had gotten to know the Lewis's more intimately and knew that they were far from perfect, which is often how they were perceived to be. Like anyone, they were capable of bickering and squabbling and gossiping. They had their own flaws. The chest of drawers slammed closed and Scout jolted back up into a standing position with an assortment of papers in hand. “Okay, I got what I need”. Ava returned the picture frame to the shelf and turned to leave along with Scout. She had a final look over her shoulder before exiting to capture anything else that might be of interest in the room. The only other thing of note was a window that was set high on the wall and looked out onto the alleyway above. It wasn’t much of a view and probably offered very little natural light during daytime. Scout then closed the door behind them. She reset the alarm - 5072 plus a combination of what might have been the same non-numerical buttons or different ones - it was hard to be sure. She switched off the lights and they stepped outside the front door. Scout started fumbling with a set of maybe five or six keys, trying to find the right one for the door.  "Dad would kill me if I lost these". Ava scoffed but Scout was not being light hearted. "Seriously though, he was so pissed the other night. It was like I'd burned the building down or something". "I'm sorry" responded Ava, readjusting her tone to match what she had heard. Scout jammed down on the handle two or three times to ensure it was locked and could not be opened before removing the key. "Your a witness. This door was locked". Scout looked burdened by the whole ordeal and was speaking flippantly.  Ava reached forward and pulled sharply down on the handle twice to demonstrate what they already knew to be true. "Its definitely locked" she added, stating the obvious. Scout was satisfied and they turned away into the crisp night air. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A FEW DAYS EARLIER, Ava had been confronted with a moral choice. Scout’s set of keys to the bakery had fallen out of her handbag and slipped down between the cushions of the sofa as she was collecting her things to leave. Ava had seen this happen but had first hesitated and then chosen not to intervene. This surprised her; telling Scout was clearly the right thing to do and a natural instinct that she would have expected from herself or any other decent person. But in this moment a second perspective clouded this judgement, something more devious and deceitful and opportunistic. It was as though the thought had been implanted in her mind by some external entity, because it did not seem like her, but she thought at that moment that she could break into the Lewis’s bakery. It was only a thought but the seed began to grow rapidly as she began to imagine the possibilities of what she could have by keeping the keys. Carbs had long been the bane of Ava’s diet and she had vowed on many occasions to cut them out completely, but she could only ever sustain the habit for a matter of weeks, maybe a month. At this time she had been just a week without carbs and already her cravings were intensifying. It seemed that her resilience grew weaker with every reset. As she toyed with the set of keys in her hands she imagined indulging in a private midnight feasting at the Lewis’s bakery. She fantasised over the mouth-watering selection of sweets that lived there; the rose cupcakes and their delectably light puff pastry casing that would flake when bitten before your tongue could reach the jammy centre, or the cinnamon swirls packed with brown sugar filling and glazed with the vanilla cream cheese, the glazing would drip into the middle soaking every single bite, there was also savoury treats which offered balance to the taste buds and could help stretch ones appetite further, the honey mustard sausage rolls, the ham and cheese muffins, the bacon and sweetcorn zucchini slices. Ava spiralled deeper and deeper into this fantasy to a point of obsession. She knew what she desired and knew that she could have it. Scout called later to ask if she had seen her keys anywhere; without a second thought, Ava responded no. —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE NIGHT AFTER Ava had learned the alarm code from observing Scout she decided to make her move. 5072, 5072, 5072, she repeated over in her mind - plus two buttons: centre then left of centre. Was that to unset or set - maybe it was the other way around? It didn't matter, she had the numbers and surely that was most important.  She walked briskly to the bakery. The night was mild and she regretted wearing a coat, the temperature should have cooled by now she thought - but it hadn't and she could feel beads of sweat tickle their way down her back. A light fog hung in the air and covered her path. The fog carried a dull glow, incubating the light cast by the moon and the street lamps to create an enchanting yellow hue. She didn't cross paths with another person on her journey - this was good and also unsurprising given it was nearing midnight. When she arrived at the bakery she reached into her coat pocket and took out the keys. She couldn't tell which key was the right one, so began the process of trial and error. She jammed in the first key but it wouldn't turn; nor did the second or third. She only had three so circled back to try the first once more but again it didn't turn. She tried the second and third again, but nothing. She was growing frustrated with the situation. What was going on? Were these not the keys to the bakery? But they had to be. Scout had practically confirmed it when she had called asking after them. She had also told her that her father was angered by the fact she had lost them. She was beyond doubt that she was holding the keys to the bakery - the only possibility, she thought, was that they were keys for another door and then she rembered again that Scout had held a ring of five or six keys the other night when locking up and now she only held three. These were different. She moved around the side of the store. A sloped path ascended uphill and led her to an alleyway at the reverse side of the bakery. When she got there she didn't find another door, but instead a window. It was the same window she had noted before leaving the office the other day. She hunkered down but felt restricted by her coat so rose again to unzip it and then lowered again and peered through. The room looked as they had left it, cramped and unappealing. There was a keylock on the window so she tried the keys again. The lock looked small so she picked the smallest key from her set of three. It clicked in seamlessly and twisted clockwise. She pushed it open and thought about how best to get inside. She flung her legs down facing forward into the bakery and shimmied forward on her bum but found this approach to be awkward; she backed up and removed her coat which was adding unwelcome padding and then flipped over - her bum now facing upwards - and reversed blindly into the room. It was a clumsy manoeuvre, her bum bumped the window frame as she moved and it was difficult guiding her hips into place. But it worked.   She lowered down until her feet met the pine wood desk that was near pressed against the wall. Her linen shirt got stuck beneath her in the manouvere. It pulled upwards as though wanting removal before catching just below her breasts. Her soft midsection waited bare for the rest of her to follow but once she had the shirt did not drop down of its own accord instead holding its place in a series of creased folds, so she unrolled it back as it should be and swept her hands across her stomach a couple of times to flatten out the creases. She then pulled through her coat which still lay outside and closed the window over and locked it shut with the key. She slowly exhaled a calming breath in an effort to recalibrate and cool herself down. A sweaty slickness had emerged at her brow and at the back of her neck and her shirt was a little damp from where her body had been perspiring. It hadn't been quite as straightforward as she had planned but she had arrived. After taking a moment to re-centre she then moved out from the office and into the bakery. The shutters were down so she would not be visible to anybody should they be passing by. This gave her total freedom over the space in the bakery. On the server's side of the glass counter there was sliding doors which were locked. She did not have the key and for a moment feared that all her efforts would have been in vain, but she then seen a small set of keys beneath the till which clicked in and opened the lock. She slid the doors open and reached in tentatively towards the rose cupcakes, taking just one initially. There was a brief moment of anticipation as she drew the cupcake towards her mouth - I'm actually doing this. She bit in and the pastry crumbled delicately between her lips. Quickly after she took another bite and reached the jammy centre and let the fruity flavours ooze in her mouth. She finished the cupcake in two more quick bites - there was no need to savour the taste, instead she was chasing more and more as her supply was practically limitless. She licked away the sugary film which coated her lips and began plucking more treats from the counter and eating them. She took to eating in batches, gathering three or four items to work through at a time. She gathered many batches; so many and so frequently that it started to feel like a constant stream of eating without pause. It was like a factory assembly line, a conveyor belt of eating. She mixed between sweet and savoury to sustain the interest of her pallet as her stomach grew heavy and burdened with all that she consumed. It began expanding the more she ate putting her shirt buttons under considerable strain. She rubbed the side of her stomach to sooth the bloated feeling but didn't take this as a sign to halt her eating in anyway. One of the middle buttons of her shirt had popped loose and scattered somewhere across the floor. The shirt had become very stretched and had risen upwards against the expansion of her midsection. Her plump hips and belly were now exposed and she had unbuttoned her jeans as well to ease the pressure choking around her waist. She massaged her belly with both hands, groaning as she done so. Maybe she was finally done.   Pastry flakings now littered the countertop. She brushed them to the floor and leaned down to close over the glass door to the display case. It ached to fold forward when she was this bloated.The display counter looked very bare now, having been full when she arrived. Her visit would not go unknown, there was an abundance of evidence to suggest a burglary had taken place, she just needed to ensure that it couldn't be tied back to her. She closed the counter and rubbed her belly once more. She was all but done, she thought. She stepped heavily out from behind the counter and back towards the office. There was another door which led to the kitchen - I better have a look here before I go - she thought. She pulled down the handle but the door was locked, yet again. She jerked down on the handle again twice, not in any expectation that it would open by applying more force, but in a rather mocking way like she had done before with Scout when she was locking up - it was like she was protesting the fact that the door was locked, she could understand the need to lock the external doors, but the door to the kitchen as well as the glass display counter seemed excessive - it was surprising that the office door had remained open despite all this added security. However, as she jerked down pointlessly on the handle to the locked door she suddenly triggered the alarm. A loud and instant noise filled the room igniting a sharp sense of fright in Ava. She swivelled around and hurried to the keypad mount on the wall to disarm it. The wailing sound of the siren induced a sense of stress and urgency. 5072 - she punched in the numbers but the siren continued to ring loudly. She punched in the two buttons - left centre then centre - without much thought. The alarm continued. She tried sequencing them in reverse and then hammered in the code again, frantically entering in a  variety of combinations as well as the same ones she had tried over again. It was desperate and it felt as though the alarm had been ringing for a considerable time now. She was going to get caught if she couldn’t kill it soon. Maybe it was already too late, she thought. The stress of the situation had made her sweat once more and her breathing had become laboured. After trying again and again eventually the alarm stopped. She drew out a deep sigh of relief. She was confused as to what had triggered it in the first place. Whatever the cause, she was relieved that it had now stopped.  She had been panicked out of her lazy state and was less focused on rubbing her aching belly and more concerned with escaping the scene before the Lewis’s or the police arrived. She didn’t know what the standard protocol was for a triggered alarm, but suspected that Mr. Lewis would be extra vigilant knowing that he had a set of keys missing. The Lewis's did not live far away from the bakery either, if Mr Lewis wanted he could be here in a matter of minutes. Ava acted fast. Adrenaline was coursing through her body and she climbed up on top of the pine desk and fiddled the keys between her fingers, searching for the small one and the  wedging it roughly into the keylock. She twisted it clockwise and swiftly pulled the window open; the jarring sound of the alarm exploded back into noise once more. Oh Shit; the words whispered from her mouth despairingly, like a runaway fugitive that had at long last been cornered by the authorities after a lengthy car chase. She could afford only a moment to contemplate whether she go back to the alarm to disarm it again or just try to escape with it ringing and hope for the best. It was difficult to make an attentive decision with the commotion swirling in her ears but she decided to move forward and poked both arms straight through the open window, outstretched and pointing, almost like how a diver would approach the water having left the springboard, but for the fact that her hands weren't meeting in the middle and instead touching flat down on the cobble path of the alleyway. She pulled her head and shoulders through. The sound of the alarm was almost amplified from the outside, rebounding off the hard surfaces in the alleyway.  Ava began heaving her body forward, huffing and puffing as she done so. Her belly was painfully full and bloated making the squeeze distinctively more uncomfortable than it had been on her way in. The buttons of her shirt grazed closer to the window frame. As she dragged herself forward they started scraping against the flat of the wall and snapping from their threads and bursting off the shirt. Fuck, she screamed loudly in her mind. It would be harder to escape incognito with her bare belly bouncing around. Maybe If I zip up my coat nobody will know —- Fuck! —--- My coat! Ava didn't have it. She had left it inside. Whatever about crumbs and loose shirt buttons - they pointed to the crime but not necessarily to the culprit, but her coat, this was unmistakably hers and would confirm her guilt. The alarm seemed to sear louder and more aggressively into her ears as her dilemma conpounded. She had no choice but to return back for it, although she hardly believed she could afford the time. Leaving it there would only defer the inevitable, whereas retrieving it offered at least a slim chance that she could escape. After all, her panic was largely driven by the assumption that Mr Lewis would respond immediately to the alarm. Perhaps he would be more careless, she hoped. She pressed her palms firmly into the cobblestone path and started heaving in the reverse direction. She was straining hot and bothered and would be pooling in her sweat  but for the cool midnight breeze that helped wick it away from her reddened face. Something was very wrong though. Despite all her efforts, grunts and groans, she could not budge from her place in the window. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck? This was bad. She wriggled her torso in an attempt to dislodge herself. She was confused as to why she couldn't undo what she had done. She could feel the weight of her belly hanging heavily down from her hips, large as it may be, it was free from the window and not causing the blockage. She huffed and puffed and huffed. The alarm continued screaming. She wrestled around further, pushing and pulling but couldn't budge as much as an inch. She was stuck.  She lay there unable to do much but continue pushing in vain. It was clear she was getting nowhere. The persistent noise of the alarm pierced away at her senses. Time ticked by and she could seemingly do nothing other than wait to be caught. Eventually the sound of the alarm ceased. This gave space to more nuanced sounds of doors opening and footsteps approaching. She was about to be caught. And in some state as well. A considerable amount of time had passed since her initial rush to escape. If she hadn't been too fat she would have certainly escaped in good time. But sadly for Ava, it was this most important variable that she had given least consideration. She waited worried of what might follow.  ‐–‐—-------------------------------------------------- MR. LEWIS entered the bakery very flustered. He moved hurriedly with wide vigilant eyes. He was stressed and looked like a man under threat. Trailing behind him was a more diminutive Scout, shrinking in his shadow. She felt responsible, or at least had been primed to feel that way by her father.  Scout watched her father move to the counter and then duck swiftly out of view as he stooped down to inspect the till. He twisted a key into the lock and rattled it open. There was money inside; he exhaled a breath of relief - "They took nothing" he confirmed. He had thought the worst. Scout approached the counter from the other side. She could see that practically all the baked goods were gone. The display was near empty. Reluctantly she began to speak these words of notice to her father, knowing that his reaction could be bad. "They took something" she said. Mr. Lewis's eyes had fallen upon a loose shirt button. He had stooped down to pick it up and returned to meet Scout's eyes with it held between his fingers. "Look" he said, presenting the button. Scout observed with a worried expression. "Look" she said back to him - she pointed towards the display case. Mr. Lewis stepped back for a clearer view and could see that it was empty. His eyes panned back and forward between the button he held and the vacant space in the display cabinet, as though he was trying to connect both pieces of information and come up with an explanation. Scout braced herself for the explosive reaction she assumed would come from her father, but he was too consumed by the mystery of what had happened to express any anger. He moved out from the display desk and spotted another button scattered close to the office door. He followed it with curious intent, as though it were a trail, and as he approached he discovered that in some ways it was. The office door was slightly ajar and he pushed it open. Through the shadowy darkness he could see an unfamiliar shape occupying the back wall. He thought his eyes must be fooling him, but believed he was seeing the outline of someones backside bent over and somehow suspended. He clicked on the light to illuminate the scene and was shocked to find  that his half-blind judgement had been proved correct. A rather round backside hung suspended from the wall, clothed in denim jeans and with a chunky pair of thighs. It was a females rear, of this he was sure. It was too round and shapely, too captivating to his eye - he could see the tails of a lavender coloured shirt pulling through the window frame and struggling to cover a feminine looking lower back and considerably plump set of hips. The loose buttons he held must have come from this shirt he thought. He didn't know what to do for a moment, other than stare. Scout arrived on his shoulder and let out a small gasp at the sight. She didn't know what to do either. There was something very familiar about this bottom to her, and she was nervous that she might just know its owner. She then noticed a coat to her left which was even more familiar - Ava's coat! She was certain. There was a lump in her throat. The situation was about to become increasingly more awkward. She would be guilty by association, at least in her father's eyes. But at this moment Mr. Lewis was not angry, but transfixed - he moved right up to the bottom, seeing clearer now how her plump body clogged the window frame. He stared at it from close range and then poked a lecturing finger firmly into the centre of her ass cheek. He wanted to make it known to whomever it was, that they had been caught and were in trouble.  Ava's face turned white. She was in desperate circumstances and didn't know how things might develop from here. She could hear verbal grumblings inside passing between Scoutt and Mr. Lewis, presumably discussing her fate. She could hear her name - Ava. Ava? - first spoken by Scoutt and then repeated by Mr. Lewis. They knew it was her. Her face was frozen with anticipation, concentrated on the conversation that was unfolding.  The fat little pig! Mr. Lewis spat the words and then repeated them. What a fat greedy swine. There was no response from Scout, she couldn't react, or didn't know what the appropriate response might be given the context and her relationship with Ava and that of her father. Mr. Lewis poked a reprehensible finger deep into the middle of Ava's plump buttcheek once more causing her to squirm in slight discomfort. Ummmmm, she groaned - the sound vibrating out of her body as Mr. Lewis deepened his press. How dare you - Mr. Lewis pinched a bare wedge of belly fat which cushioned betweened the wall and her thighs - Oohhh, Ava groaned again, higher pitched this time with her hips and buttocks rising with the sound and her heels lifting from the desk onto her tippy toes. How dare she, directing his words back towards Scout. As he locked eyes with Scout he started to think what part she may have potentially played in this. His face tightened with scrutiny. Did you put her up to this? I did not! She responded hastily. I would never. Ava could hear these accusations and only now was starting to feel some modicum of guilt. There was some further squabbles back and forward and then she could hear footsteps moving away from her and out of the room. After a moment the sound of footsteps returned, this time on pavement and coming towards her into the alleyway. She looked up from her low position on the path as Mr. Lewis appeared towering above her. Scoutt shadowed and looked disconcertingly from behind him. "Explain yourself" Mr. Lewis demanded. He spoke sternly with arms crossed. Ava brushed part of her fringe away from her reddening face. She felt more humiliated having to confront them face to face. She looked to Scout hoping she might be able to intervene in some way but she appeared stunned as well. "You've eaten all my supply for tomorrow" Mr. Lewis didnt raise his voice, but spoke more gravely. There was impact to his words and it was clear her was being very serious. "And if I'm not mistaken… which I'm not … you appear to be stuck in my office window". "We don't know for sure that she's stuck Dad", Scout countered feebly.  "Sure we do. You've seen the other end, havent you? Too fat to fit it seems. Why else would she be dangling there - Isn't that right?" He targeted this last question squarely at Ava. She gulped. "Yes". Her face was flushed and she struggled to speak many words more in that moment but there was space lingering for her to say something more. "I'm sorry". Mr. Lewis' face tightened again with prominant frowns apprearing on his forehead. "Not half as sorry as you will be" he then walked back down the alley leaving Scout and Ava looking at one another wondering what he was planning next. "Wait there" Scoutt said, forgetting for a moment that Ava couldn't move if she tried - she swiftly followed after he father. Ava waited anxiously. She tried her best to listen to what Scout asked of her father and what he was saying back but their conversation was out of earshot and unclear. Eventually, Mr. Lewis returned alone. "There'll be a price to pay for this" he said, speaking definitively. Ava looked up with a worried expression. "What's going to happen to me?" Mr. Lewis furrowed his brows. He was unsympathetic and thought Ava's question to be selfish. "We'll get you out, but not without having to break in the wall". Ava could hear the annoyance in his voice. She didn't know how he intended to do this and presumed it would cost his business in some capacity. "How long will that take" Ava asked. Her question trailed off into a mumble as she feared mid sentence that it might be interpreted as demanding and provoke him. "As long as it takes". He then walked off.  Ava was again left waiting and for how long she didn't know. Mr. Lewis had been aloof in his detail, deliberately so - omission as a means of punishment, he thought. Again she felt a touch upon her bottom, smaller and more gentle hands this time, it was Scout this time she thought, she was almost certain. She could feel her knuckles brush into her skin as she gripped underneath the tight bind of her jeans waistband. Wait, why is she pulling at my jeans?  Ava froze as Scout rolled back her jeans, her face was still with ponderous thought. Ava's panties rolled back with the jeans and were on course to disappear completely into the folds of denim as Scout pulled them back, but she pinched them in place and strapped them across her bottom before they got lost in the process. Initially at a loss for what Scoutt was doing, she then concluded that it must be part of the process of getting her out. Of course! She probably has to grease me up or something. This brief sense of euphoria was quickly shrouded with further mortification. I'm so stuck that she needs to grease me to release me…  Scout was a bit overwhelmed with what she was facing. My goodness she is wide. She peeled back her jeans all the way to her calfs leaving her thick thighs and buttocks exposed. She was jiggly and plump. Scout brought the back of her hand up to Ava's hind. She placed the tips of her fingernails in the joint of her leg where her calves met her thighs and started moving her fingers around in small circles eliciting a ticklish sensation. Ava squirmed, trying to chase away the sensation, but she couldn't. Her bottom bounced excitedly, she clenched her legs trying to brace her skin for the touch but this did nothing in the way of resistance. Scoutt stroked her fingernails up Ava's meaty thighs and Ava rattled into the window frame, jumping from her hips, electrified, trying to escape the tickling but cruelly shackled in place.  Ava clenched her fingers and shook her head side to side, trying as best as she could to contain herself from the relentless surge of ticklish probing at her lower half. She was biting her bottom lip and her skin was pimpling with goosebumps as she became more and more aroused by the incessant stroke of Scout's titillating fingers. She had started laughing uncontrollably and was sure she would attract some unwanted attention if this was to continue. Just as she got used to the feeling and thought she had found a way to cope Scout would then move her fingers elsewhere, down or between her thighs or into the crevices of her belly folds. It would resurrect the sensation again and have her squealing for mercy once more. It was unbearable. "Stop! Please, please stop!" Ava was begging. She sounded every bit as desperate as she appeared to be. Unexpectedly, Scout submitted. "You're the one who needs to stop!" she retaliated. "Do you have any idea what you're putting me through?" Putting her through? What about me! But Ava didn't respond. She did not hold much power in this dynamic and had to be careful with what she said. She shaped her mouth to say something but couldn't speak words of any purpose - Scout cut in again. "You probably think that you have it bad. But my father will never forgive me for losing those keys and allowing this to happen." Scout's voice was straining. She was speaking the truth and the emotional toll could be heard in her words.  "It's not your fault. I will speak to him".  Scout scoffed at this pitiful proposal. "And you think he will listen? To him you are a fat lazy thief now. He won't want to hear from you on anything". Ava couldn't respond. There was nothing to say. A brief moment passed. She then belched loudly; the noise rumbled from her stomach and vibrated up through her body and caught her entirely by surprise. "Uh … erm … excuse me".  The words scrambled with uncertainty from her mouth. What a fat pig thought Scout. "You are getting less than half of what you deserve". She then unleashed a firm reprimanding slap across her buttocks. Ava squelled a sharp Ouch! "You choose" proposed Scout. "Tickles or slaps?!" Ava couldn't decide and so endured both for the minutes following. Each sensation was excruciating in its own way and she wished deeply that she had never dared such a heist in the first place. Mr. Lewis reappeared in the alleyway, this time with another man who looked to be an uninformed policeman or someone of authority. He had an aura.  "There she is" Mr Lewis stated in mild disgust. Ava looked up at the men. Her eyes were wet with teardrops, half from crying with laughter and half from crying due to the stinging sensation of Scout's hands slapping across her bare bottom. Her lower lip was quivering as she awaited for them to speak further. The other man peered down at her with a studied expression.  " ….. I see" he finally said, still processing the unusual nature of the situation. "And let me be clear, you are certain she is stuck?" Another firm slap from Scout stung Ava's ass. "Arggh!" She winced aloud, sharply diverting Mr. Lewis's attention from what they were discussing.  Scout's fingertips crawled in around Ava's belly and stroked her provocatively in especially sensitive areas causing her to giggle unwillingly. She looked bemused and the men could not make head nor tail of her behaviour being blind to what was happening to her at her rear. "See what madness I'm dealing with?" Said Mr. Lewis. The man gave a vague nod of understanding and then they both cleared the scene. Ava remained isolated in the alley way for the next hour. A litany of noises, sounds and prodding hands from back inside the bakery would be her only sense of company during this period. The torturous tickling and sanctimonious slapping had passed and the process of removing her from the scene had begun. A slippery, saucey lubricant had been applied around her midsection and thighs and she had been pushed again and again and moved a little each time but not enough to give evidence that she could be freed from the window this way. Mr. Lewis was determined not to cut into the wall and cause any structural damage but it soon became apparent that this sacrifice would be necessary. Ava could hear more noise and believed that more men had arrived in the bakery to initiate the next phase. Drills and other tools were motoring up and into the wall to cut her out from the predicament. As the gap in the wall widened open Scout appeared in the alleyway to take her hand and lug her up and a set of hands grabbed her Ava's ass cheeks and reefed her forward and suddenly she was stuck no more with her knees on the cobbled path and her midsection unchoked by the window frame. Her body was slick and slimey with sweat and lubricants. Her panties had been swallowed between her cheeks and her open shirt plastered loosely against the wet coat of substances slapped across her skin. She gathered to her feet awkwardly, pulling her jeans up as she rose. The material struggled up her thighs and jammed in the middle of her chunky hips. She did not try to zip them up and button them closed as she knew that this would not be possible. The fat bulging face of her belly hung forward prominently from the rest of her body.  The other man who had arrived with Mr. Lewis returned with handcuffs. He was in fact an officer. "I'm not going to use these. But I think you know what they mean", he said. Ava gulped. She followed the man down the sloped path back to the front of the bakery where a squad car was parked out front as well as Mr. Lewis who stood in front of her own vehicle. Scout trailed them both at a safe distance as though trying to remove herself from the situation. The officer opened the back door to the squad car and beckoned Ava forward. She sat in and belted up and the officer closed the door after her. He said somethings to Mr. Lewis but she could not hear the words. They both nodded at each other and appeared to be in agreement over something. The officer then jumped into the drivers seat and started the car and drove off.  "My god. I've had some unusual calls in my time. But this is right up there". The officer glanced occasionally back at Ava through the rear view mirror as he spoke, interested to see her reaction. "I mean you're a pretty girl Ava" he continued, holding his gaze in the mirror a little longer in anticipation of a reaction that never came. "You ain't no thief anyway", he added, a little disappointingly having not recieved the engagement he had hoped for. "Am I going to like … jail?" Ava asked nervously. The officer scoffed. "You're going home". "Really?" Ava was shocked.  "Honestly, we wouldn't even know what to do with you if we took you to the station tonight" he laughed. "All that we would do is put the donuts there at risk, right?" He laughed harder, amusing himself greatly as he joked. Ava blushed and tried to pull her shirt together shlyly but remembered that she couldn't. She clasped her hand together across her stomach to hide her gut as best she could. The squad car pulled up outside Ava's house. The officer killed the engine and stepped outside and came around to open Ava's door at the back. He offered her a hand to help her out of the car and her gut wobbled jelly-like before her as she touched down in the driveway and the breeze drew her shirt open. The officer looked her up and down from the base of her belly up to her breasts and then to her face. He dismissed her away to the house with a directive nod of the head. She looked downward, almost shamefully as she began to move but the officer halted her in her tracks by extending his hand in a stop sign which was bumped by Ava's rotund stomach. It felt firm and bloated against his hand and he imagined how uncomfortable it must have been to be stuck and how straining it must continue to be to lug it around. She looked up shyly to meet his eyes. "I'll be keeping an eye on you", said the officer. They continued to look at each other, maintaining eye contact but without further words or change of expression. The officers hand remained pressed against Ava's belly and he could feel it fill with air and release as she breathed. He could also feel gurgles and other disturbances bubble in her stomach, squelching restlessly to digest the mammoth amount she had eaten. He noticed for the first time how tired her eyes now looked. The volume of food she was working to digest was exhausting her. It became clear to him that she was almost drifting away at this point more than anything.  "Go inside and go to sleep", he said. "You're exhausted". He drew away his hand. She nodded faintly in comprehension and moved past him into the house, letting herself inside without turning to say goodbye. She hauled her heavy belly up the stairs and awkwardly started removing her shoes, jeans and shirt. She kept her panties on but removed her bra. Her breasts felt large and swollen and carried a dull ache. She collapsed back-first onto the bed and rolled immediately onto her side which was how she always lay especially with a full stomach. Her breathing became deep very quickly and her belly heaved expansively out across the soft duvet cover and the aching feeling in her breasts began to numb as she drifted out of consciousness and fast asleep. She was too tired to dream so for the first time in days food was absent from her thoughts.