Ms. Cerisa Primrose cut a striking figure—a complexion like marzipan, hair a deep shade of ripe tangerine that reached well past her shoulders, dimpled face, and mint green eyes that betrayed a scampish glimmer. She was trim and stylishly dressed in a vibrant but tasteful cherry-red business suit.
As there were few visitors to the factory, a former break room predating the arrival of the Oompa-Loompas was re-purposed as a makeshift conference space. The cinderblock walls were painted powder-blue, accented by a single horizontal chartreuse stripe midway down. The afternoon sunshine, warm as butterscotch, streamed through the tall west-facing windows. Comfortable chairs, their cushions sporting candy patterns, encircled a sturdy but well-worn wooden table. Overhead, a single-cord pendant lamp with a glass shade resembling a bowl full of colorful candies cast a welcoming glow above the table. Thick glass pipes leading to the Chocolate Room crossed the ceiling.
Charlie and Mr. Wonka ushered Ms. Primrose into the room.
“May we offer you a beverage? Coffee? Tea? Soda?”
“Tea, please.”
“Ah, the natural choice of a refined palate, I see,” said Mr. Wonka. “Please, have a seat.”
Mr. Wonka situated himself at the head of the table. Next to his chair was an ornate gumball machine.
“Cerisa Primrose,” he began. “What a lovely name.”
When everyone was seated, Mr. Wonka cleared his throat and turned the handle of the gumball machine, which dispensed a plastic capsule that he popped open. He pulled out a slip of paper, which he read silently, then nodded to himself and placed the slip of paper in front of him on the table.
“Tell me, Ms. Primrose, how long have you been in marketing? It can’t have been very long. I’d venture to say you’re barely a couple of years out of school.”
Ms. Primrose straightened in her chair, smoothing the fabric of her smart skirt suit as she met Wonka's gaze levelly.
“Oh, Mr. Wonka, you flatter me. The truth is that I’ve been in the marketing field for nearly a decade now.” Ms. Primrose took a sip of tea. “Maybe I’ve not had quite as much experience as the true veterans of this industry, but my passion for marketing runs deep. I believe my fresh perspective and keen eye for emerging trends set me apart in this rapidly evolving industry. But I’m ready now for a new career challenge. What an opportunity it would be to learn from a master confectioner like yourself!”
“You were saying about flattery?” remarked Mr. Wonka. He seemed to suppress a smile as he scratched a few lines in a notepad. He selected another capsule from the vending machine, read the enclosed note, opened his briefcase, and produced a chocolate bar, which he slid across the table to Ms. Primrose. WONKA’S WHIPPLE-SCRUMPTIOUS FUDGEMALLOW DELIGHT, it said on the wrapper.
“At one time, these lovelies were my all-time best seller,” said Mr. Wonka.
“My lucky candy bar!” announced Charlie proudly. “I found my Golden Ticket tucked into the wrapper of a Whipple-Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight bar. They’ve always been my favorite.”
“But sadly,” Mr. Wonka went on, “they seem to have fallen out of fashion in recent days. Ms. Primrose, how would you market a classic for the contemporary candy age?”
Ms. Primrose delicately picked up the chocolate bar and examined it critically, holding it up to the light, scrutinizing its size and shape. She carefully unwrapped a corner of the bar and inhaled deeply, as a sommelier might assess a fine wine. Then, she took a tiny, delicate nibble, closing her eyes and savoring the chocolate as she did so.
“It’s been years,” she said. “And it’s just as decadent as I remember.”
She turned the bar over to look at the wrapper again. “That’s certainly a large font on the wrapper, isn’t it,” she said. “Iconic, but you might consider smaller text, a brighter color…maybe even a cartoon mascot. They’re very popular right now. Perhaps a word puzzle or maze on the back of the wrapper.”
Mr. Wonka continued to pose questions, one by one, milking the interview for dramatic effect, though by now he had already reached his decision.
“Ms. Primrose,” he asked, for his final query: “Above all, what does candy mean to you?”
“Fun,” she said definitively.
Mr. Wonka was taken with the remarkable young woman. She appeared ambitious, eager to learn, self-assured. Perhaps overconfident? No matter. She was young, and an excess of confidence was the hallmark of youth. Mr. Wonka admired her verve and enthusiasm. She was appropriately business-minded but not brusque. She had an easy charm about her.
Ms. Primrose was, in short, as enchanting as her namesake. Mr. Wonka knew this had not escaped Charlie, who was, naturally, enthralled with her.
Mr. Wonka was careful not to let on too quickly that he intended to hire Ms. Primrose as their new Director of Marketing. He waited several weeks before finally announcing the decision to Charlie, who was, of course, overjoyed upon learning the news. Ms. Primrose was, as far as he was concerned, perfect.
There was a great flurry of mundane activity that transpired when Ms. Primrose began at the factory. Red tape must be waded through even in the candy industry. There were telephone calls to be made, forms to be filled out, office supplies to be issued, operating procedures to be explained, and rules to be delineated.
Indeed, Mr. Wonka was content to have Ms. Primrose occupy herself with busywork for some time. She was, initially, Director of Marketing in name only, and largely deskbound—seeing little of the factory beyond her office, which disappointed Charlie no end. He would find various pretenses for visiting her daily, to say good morning, to see how she was getting on, to ask whether there was anything she needed.
Mr. Wonka recognized Ms. Primrose’s talents, of course, and it pained him to be so slow in allowing her to exercise her full potential, but he was also understandably cautious. He needed to ensure, however obsessive it might seem, that his faith in her was not misplaced. But he was very much pleased by her progress and little by little increased her purview.
“We’ll need to grant Ms. Primrose greater access to the factory,” he advised Charlie one day. “She’ll have limited clearance for the time being, of course. I want you to begin showing her around. Start with a room or two a day, and don’t reveal too much at any one time. And we’ll need to keep an eye on her, sweet and charming though she may be. Be careful that she doesn’t try anything that’s not ready for eating. And for heaven’s sake, don’t dare let her anywhere near the gum machine!”
Charlie thought the last admonition an odd one, but it made him wonder if Mr. Wonka knew more than he was letting on about Charlie’s machinations, for it was only because of Charlie that Ms. Primrose was the new Director of Marketing—or that there was a Director of Marketing at all.
In the weeks that followed, Charlie worked closely with Ms. Primrose, and a solid rapport soon flourished between the two. She was like a big sister to him, though she was technically his employee. But while she was the more experienced in business, she was nevertheless new to the factory, and Charlie felt that they were, in a sense, learning the secrets of the trade together. Charlie wanted badly to let her sample the Pudge Fudge straight away. But it was too soon. And he couldn’t just give it to her, could he? No, that would be like Mr. Wonka offering the gum to Violet. If Ms. Primrose was to have the Pudge Fudge, Charlie would have to test her somehow. It had to be her choice.
In the meantime, he would have to be content with letting her sample Wonka’s other offerings, which were in ample supply. But if it could be said of anyone that they knew the meaning of moderation, it was Ms. Primrose. Charlie marveled at her self-control. She sampled candies like a connoisseur, savoring their taste but never nibbling more than the tiniest bit.
As the months rolled by, Ms. Primrose endeared herself more and more to Mr. Wonka, and he let down his guard accordingly. He no longer shadowed her relentlessly, content in the knowledge that she was trustworthy and dedicated and decidedly not a spy.
And for her part, once accorded the opportunity, Ms. Primrose quickly established herself as a thoroughly competent Director of Marketing. It was not long before the chocolate factory posted record profits, with growth expected.
I’m responding to this post so that more people can see this clip. It now makes kinda since that she gained the weight back again 😏
And this one about her mom liking her being chubby https://streamable.com/2a92dr
Some comparisons from last year March2023(when she just had finished her fitness program) to now April2024. Thanks for the brightened up pics @knightmare!
also here are is another one from todays pics brightened up
normal
brightened
Imo this is what she looked like at her biggest
these are from nov 2021
Oh, that’s happened to me plenty of times before. I pretty much hard carried this thread for like 2yrs 😭. So a good amount of the posts didn’t get many reactions and I always felt dumb/sad😔.
We really don’t need to do the outline stuff again when we know that’s what kinda made her lose weight in the first place (at least that’s what she said on one of her podcast episodes https://streamable.com/hfbuy8). So can we not f*ck this up again when she seems to be gaining again. Our community would really appreciate it
We also don’t need to post everytime she streams since she pretty much wears baggy pants now, camera angel isn’t good for getting screenshots and she sometimes even turns off the cam when she gets up now. We seem to get good stuff whenever she is a guest on other peoples streams, so we can only hope we get more do those in the future.
Anyway thanks for coming to my Ted talk lmao
she just posted this on her ig story
I think that to some extent it has to do with sexual frustration, as they don't have someone to filter it out to, or that they are afraid to talk about their taste with anyone that is outside of the community and they end up bursting it here unfiltered pent up over longer period of time and they justdon't realize the extent.
I think that to some extent it has to do with sexual frustration, as they don't have someone to filter it out to, or that they are afraid to talk about their taste with anyone that is outside of the community and they end up bursting it here unfiltered pent up over longer period of time and they justdon't realize the extent.
I think that to some extent it has to do with sexual frustration, as they don't have someone to filter it out to, or that they are afraid to talk about their taste with anyone that is outside of the community and they end up bursting it here unfiltered pent up over longer period of time and they justdon't realize the extent.
I think that to some extent it has to do with sexual frustration, as they don't have someone to filter it out to, or that they are afraid to talk about their taste with anyone that is outside of the community and they end up bursting it here unfiltered pent up over longer period of time and they justdon't realize the extent.
sorry to hear you've had to put up with shit like that, likewise with every model in the community I presume .. maybe we need a harsher penalty for harassing / creepy messages?
The same types of guys ruin dating apps by making women feel uncomfortable and eventually leaving, assuming the worst about every new guy they meet because it's safer that way, like assuming the snake you see on your hiking trail is venomous even if it's most likely not
Some of them may be so socially retarded that they don't necessarily realize how uncomfortable they're making people, but a lot of them know damn well and just put their bit of immediate pleasure ahead of everything else.
I read that one of the main motivations for sending dick pics is not to turn the woman on but to provoke a visceral reaction, even a negative one.
It's as though people take a moral vacation when they log on here, forgetting that there are real people on the other end, and even if the backdrop is a sexual kink, they should continue to treat people with due respect.
I guess besides permanently banning them, the best you can do is build a healthy mindset around it like you have
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