The GCU

Police stations are by their nature not friendly places. If you're in there, chances are you've broken the law in some fashion, so why should basic courtesy be preserved?

They'd tried their best for Nikita, they really had. They'd provided her with a blanket to cover herself, although it had a certain smell to it that suggested that perhaps Lyndsey Lohan had been using it as a comfort blanket on one of her many stays.

The blonde girl shivered in the interview room. Everything in here was so... so very... gray. The walls, the ceiling, the floor, it looked like a mold for casting other rooms out of, more fun ones with bright colored carpets and flowery wallpaper. It was like sitting inside a concrete block. And it was appropriately cold.

She regarded the cup of coffee they'd brought her as perhaps a slight means of saying sorry. Styrofoam cup? Check. Coffee, though freshly made, already lukewarm? Check. Tasted slightly of gravel? Check. She had enjoyed the chocolate biscuit though.

That was the problem with Chinese food. Give it an hour or so, and you're hungry again.

They'd finally managed to remove her from the crime scene. It was a good job Harry's Stop And Glut Chinese Buffet All You Can Eat Palace had insurance, as no one was going to be able to Stop And Glut at Harry's All You Can Eat Chinese Buffet Palace for quite some time after what she'd done to it.

A hand slipped cautiously beneath the grew folds of the somewhat misused and oddly crusty blanket, to what lay beneath. Softly churning and grumbling, her hand could barely dent the surface, she felt the tremendous grind of her own body trying it's best to accommodate it.

There was a one way mirror at the far end of the room. She didn't know why they bothered with such formalities, everyone had seen enough TV to know exactly what was on the other side of these things, it certainly wasn't a birthday clown or a small excitable puppy with one ear that looked inside out.

Besides, she could hear them.

*****

"What do you think, Officer?"

"Seems fairly cut and dry to me, Captain... her explanation checks out with theirs."

"One thing still bugs me... how did they manage to lure her in in the first place?"

"You want me to interrogate her?"

"If you'd be so kind, Officer Kikuchi."

"No problem, Captain Hernandez."

*****

The door next to the mirror clicked open smoothly, and someone walked in with an identical cup to Nikita's... and a box.

A white box, with a figure on it. A small, round fellow with a curious hole through the middle of his face. And sprinkles. Lots of sprinkles.

"Awesome Aniq's Donuts" it proclaimed in big letters. The box had grease stains on it. The thick bonded cardboard had started to go see through underneath, designating this box's contents as artery hardening-ly unhealthy. Clearly, they would be utterly delicious.

The woman carrying these effects set them down on the table, and produced a clip board. She'd had it tucked in the back of her sweat pants. That was somewhat unusual... weren't police officers somewhat stringent about their uniform requirements?

Such thoughts were banished as she smiled to Nikita, and whispered two words that almost melted her heart.

"Help yourself..."

Nikita didn't need any more prompting than that. She fell upon the box like a Valkyrie swooping down to collect the souls of the dead of battle. The donuts simply hadn't the defensive ability to defend themselves.

There is a kind of bird called the Kakapo, native to New Zealand, which is utterly useless at defending itself. Though nocturnal, it's main predator used to be the various predatory birds that circled overhead, looking for the small green flightless parrot. Thus, it adapted to it's niche, and developed a strategy. When confronted by danger, it simply sits down, and tries it's best not to move. This works quite well against high circling birds, but unfortunately for the Kakapo as Bob Dylan said, the times they are a changing. The main threat to the Kakapo now  such animals as dogs, cats and rats. The best defense against these would be to run away. Unfortunately, the Kakapo is a creature of habit... and just sits there, looking somewhat bewildered as its enemies bare down on it with ferocious hunger.

There was not much of a battle to be had here, the donuts mounted a brave resistance by being lightly dusted with icing sugar and being filled with delicious custard. They chose the Kakapo defense, and simply sat there. Perhaps in their little, lightly glazed minds, they thought there might be safety in numbers. They weren't so lucky.

Hell hath no hunger like an already bloated girl in tiny pink hot pants.

The Officer scribbled a few notes on her pad and looked at the scene in front of her. She brushed the light coating of orange Cheezy-Lumps dust from her fingers as she noticed the blanket slip from the girl. She carefully jotted down how the minuscule pink hot pants appeared to be her only item of downstairs garnishment, the complete lack of any panty lines or the tell tale hip cinch of a thong alerting her to this fact.  She could also see they were undone, and the button was most likely missing.

She knew all these facts by experience alone. That was why she was so valuable, she'd come with many years of training in these fields.

Her eyes traversed the great pendulous swell of Nikita's abdomen, protruding as it was from what had no doubt once been an extremely baggy white shirt, the kind she'd probably slept in until it had become one of the few things to fit her. She knew this, of course, as she had a closet filled to bursting with garments that had fulfilled a similar purpose to her at home.

The girl had a crimson bra on. She jotted this down, as it seemed important. The girl didn't seem like an exhibitionist. It might be an important fact.

Nikita chose this moment to cease in her assault of the donut box, long enough to offer one of the terrified remaining occupants to the police woman present in the room. She smiled, and graciously accepted. Another pastry brother fell to the terrifying purge.

"Nikita... may I call you Nikita? I don't like to stand on formality."

The woman's voice was quite pleasant, and she smiled in a friendly, open fashion. The smile lasted only a moment, Nikita indicated she didn't mind, and the smile embedded itself in the donut.

"Good. Mph." She managed through a mouthful of confection. She chewed, swallowed, and somehow in the space of a matter of seconds the remainder of the donut vanished.

Nikita had barely seen her lips move. She was truly in the presence of a master.

"My name is Officer Hiroko Kikuchi, and to extend the same courtesy you may call me Hiroko if you like. I represent a new government task force... GCU, the Gluttonous Crimes Unit." She stifled a polite petite belch behind a hand. "It's my job to investigate incidents such as the one you found yourself a part of last night... incidents of a decidedly gluttonous nature. Now... I was hoping to ask you a few questions..."

Nikita stared. She hadn't been aware there was such thing as a gluttonous crimes unit, it must have been very new. She appraised the officer. It made sense she'd be on it. The woman was very pretty, a delicately shaped pale face topped off by a long, sleek ponytail of jet black hair, her eyes a lustrous hazel.

She was also quite obviously overweight. Obviously and somewhat dramatically. Her shirt wasn't entirely buttoned, between the gaping span of the shirt which had only managed to cover her not-insignificant bosom, lay a vast expanse of dark blue material, stretched to it's absolute limit. As she moved it rippled and wobbled to a ridiculous extent, indicating that it was, as Nikita had guessed within seconds of noticing it, containing an exceptionally large stomach. At first Nikita had guessed the woman to be pregnant, though the motion and heft of the thing she beheld marked it out as not containing anything but a hearty breakfast, a large lunch, a humongous dinner and a great deal of snacking in between. Immediately Nikita felt an affinity with the woman, a certain admiration and understanding of what it must require to maintain that level of eating.

"What can I tell you?" she inquired, a donut paused at her lips.

"We have one last thing to clear up with you. How exactly did you come to be in the restaurant? Start at the beginning, tell me everything that led up to it"

Hiroko had a donut in her hand again. Nikita hadn't noticed her hand move, it was like the perfect Zen of overindulgence. Her own stomach grumbled and heaved somewhat as the added bulk of a fair few pastry treats made itself felt in her gut, the pale bloated sphere contorting as it's content made it's delicate transit around the overstuffed orb.

"It was laundry night. I was on my way to the laundrette with just about every bit of clothing I own, that's why I'm dressed like this, when I got sidetracked..."

Hiroko looked up from her cheezy-lump dusted clip board.

"By the kidnappers?"

Nikita blushed.

"No... by a box of fried chicken. It was hard work carrying all that laundry..."

Hiroko smiled, and a slight rumble sounded from the expanse of flesh covered vainly by the stretchy dark blue fabric under her shirt. The thought of fried chicken seemed to be making her hungry.

"A feeling i can empathize with, Nikita. I'm not here to judge you on your habits or choice of attire, just to get the facts. Please, continue."

Nikita nodded, and carried on.

"I was making my way to the laundrette, it's only a few doors down from where I live, a few doors along from the chicken place..." She paused, a slight flutter of embarrassment in her chest. "I remember it was quite late, night time I think, and I heard something big like a van pull up next to me, and I remember hearing the door opening, and hearing them shouting "Grab her!". They pulled me in the van, but I guess I must have hit my head, the next thing I remember is waking up in the buffet wrapped in a carpet."

Hiroko nodded, jotting down the details. They had indeed found a long strip of old carpet in  Harry's Stop And Glut Chinese Buffet All You Can Eat Palace, her story was checking out. A few hours ago they'd got a report of someone having abandoned a large consignment of ladies clothing outside the chicken restaurant, though no-one had seen either the van or the disappearing act that had transpired outside. When pressed about the event, the proprietor had made an extremely rude assertion about Nikita's anatomy based on what was clearly visible through her strained pink hot-pants, for which Hiroko had slapped him roughly across the face.

They played by their own rules in the GCU. They cared little for things like proper witness protocol and constrictive clothing. They were after the truth. The truth... and a reasonably priced steak dinner.

"Thank you for being so forthcoming, Nikita. You've been a big help with our investigation, and we've decided not to press charges against you, pending further inquiry."

Nikita tilted her head to one side. "Further inquiry?"

Hiroko nodded. "A simple procedure, I'd just like to check to see if you were drugged or not by your captors."

Nikita's eyes went wide. "Drugged?!"

Hiroko nodded sagely. "We believe they may have administered a sub dermal appetite stimulant to you. I'd like to check you for signs of a recent injection, if you're okay with that."

Nikita nodded, and obediently offered both arms, thankfully bereft of track marks.

"No... they wouldn't inject you through your limbs..."

Hiroko stood and approached Nikita. She gently guided her to sit on the edge of the table, and place her arms behind her. As she stood, the hem of her undershirt rolled up slightly, revealing a wide band of convex stomach flesh, pale and gelatinous it grinned delightfully from between her clearly inadequate clothing. Nikita obediently did as she was led to do by the bloated officer, unconsciously aware that the  motion of sitting like this caused her to arch her back, emphasizing the gurgling ocean of midriff she now carried with her thanks to her assault on the buffet and the counter attack of the donut box.

Hiroko was grinning, she placed the clip board down on the table, and approached the grumbling leviathan.

Her touch was gentle, her hands warm and soft. Nikita let out a whispered yelp, unaware of how... pleasant it felt. She relaxed slightly, letting out her breath, unaware that she'd been holding it the entire time in apprehension of this moment. It would certainly explain a lot, she thought, if she had been injected with an appetite stimulant while she was unconscious. She blocked out the nagging thought of previous binges she'd undertaken when there had been absolutely no hint of chemical aids to her eating...

Hiroko brushed the soft surface of Nikita's stomach gently with her hands. She looked here and there, marveling at the gentle, graceful curve of the strained taut bulge, pleasant thoughts recollecting how full her own belly had been on more than one occasion. She gently traced the letters emblazoned on her abdomen in six inch high bursts.

"All you can eat."

She breathed them to herself, trying to imagine the sensation of a lover gently daubing her own gloriously overstuffed tummy as she lay replete after a colossal binge. Perhaps Nikita would be willing to give it a try? Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

She lent forward to the small hollow of Nikita's belly button, and gently planted a kiss over it with a hint of her passions imbued into the simple motion. A shudder of unrestrained pleasure rippled through the immense abdomen that occupied the entirety of her view as she cast her eyes up the mighty slope, between the red clad peaks of Nikita's breasts, to the closed eyed face just visible over the top.

The door opened, and a rather plump Hispanic woman made her presence felt. Dark red hair framed a beautiful, heart shaped face on which a pair of full, red lips pouted in a slight smile at her subordinates antics.

"Officer Kikuchi... hadn't you better warn the witness there have been no known occurrences of sub-dermal appetite stimulation.

Hiroko's head reluctantly rose from it's place at the Nikita's delightful navel. She nodded slowly, angry at being interrupted, and gathering her things made her way out past her superior, who had made her way into the room.

"I think it's about time we took you home, Nikita. Let me give you card though, if you think of anything, please call."

The small oblong of card was pressed into Nikita's hand, and she studied the lettering. Nikita couldn't help but notice the extensive bandaging that encircled the woman's waistline, giving her a distinctly hourglass shape. Between the folds of the bandages, just visible poking out in almost a joke, was the end of a belly bar. With a red crystal in it.

She read the card.

Captain Jamie Hernandez.

Head of Operations.

Gluttonous Crimes Unit.