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The Weasel of Malgoren


SilverPathfinder

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Chapter 16 : Bows and Curves

Everyone reached the shooting range after a short ride through the city park, with Sarya’s lagging a bit behind with her overburdened light cart and its hard working horse. The plump brunette was still slightly embarrassed by her earlier failure at horse riding, but she wasn’t about to let that little bump ruin her day, or her chance to make a good impression on all of these wealthy city ladies, which could turn into priceless contact if she played her cards well. As she squeezed her huge rump out of the cramped cabriolet, Sarya was actually eager to get a bow between her hands and show them what she got. Horse riding was something she never really trained for, but the former street urchin had some real experience at shooting, mostly with a sling, but also with a short bow. She didn’t remember how many pigeons she struck from their perch or from the sky, sometimes for food, sometimes to sale the bits of information they were carrying. She had no doubt an immobile target would be a piece of cake to hit for her.

The shooting range was fully available for the group of women, and Evelyn started distributing arrows and sporting bows to everyone. On the open grass, there was a few distance markers at 100 yards to 20 yards. The targets were the typical circular shapes, but also a few human shaped dummies wearing the garments of Nerodian raiders, a subtle remember that the War of the Ashen Fields never truly stopped, even if the barbarians had suffered a string of defeats. Sarya grabbed a bow and smiled with confidence, almost scoffing when Evelyn explained they would shoot from a mere 40 yards since it was a friendly competition.

However, as she came to test the pull of her bow, the buxom damsel quickly saw her confidence melt, replaced by confusion and pronounced unease. The busty ex-urchin wasn’t smiling anymore when she noticed with a worried expression that she couldn’t quite pull the bow adequately. It wasn’t that the draw weight was too much for her, even if she remembered her hunting bow feeling a bit lighter on the pull. No, the problem was her enormous breasts literally blocking the string’s path, causing it to squeeze painfully against the side of her oversized bosom, and making it virtually impossible to bring the string to her face like she learned to aim. The oversized beauty tried to modify her stance, leaning a little forward, changing her footing, or even pulling the bow with an angle, but she was so absurdly busty there was simply no way she could manoeuvre around her massive breasts. Worse, she was struggling with her balance if she didn’t stood fully straight, and the enormous weight of her bosom wasn’t making her archery stance easy to maintain.

Evelyn was watching attentively Sarya’s issues, having already expected the overfed heifer to be too ridiculously top heavy to shoot a bow. However, this was much more entertaining than the slender seamstress ever thought it would be. Clearly, the pampered glutton was an experienced archer, and her struggles had a subtle flavour of despair that the ex-adventurer was finding delightful. Would that be enough to force the rotund damsel to change her decadent ways? Evelyn was eager to put Sarya to the test. Nimbly walking in front of the women’s group, the dark haired beauty opened the friendly tourney with a display of her own skills. The wealthy fencer wasn’t really an expert at archery, but she was fit, dexterous, and balanced. Her form was rudimentary but she looked stunning drawing the bows and letting loose, her long ponytail flowing in the wind behind her slender back. Her sporting clothes revealed the tone in her arms and her defined shoulders, the muscles dancing under the thin fabric.

The rules were simple. Each of them could fire three arrows, and the woman with the fewer points was eliminated and removed from the competition until there was only one winner. Evelyn began in strength, but she was hardly unbeatable. Most of the wealthy ladies she invited were amateur archers, and even if they lacked her astonishing fitness, they had good control over their own bodies, a control that Sarya was utterly lacking with her cumbersome melons and bouncing belly. It was about to be her turn to shoot, and she was feeling worried she couldn’t aim properly. The plump brunette was looking so miserable she once again pulled Jasmine sympathy. The young pregnant redhead was quite busty herself, and her newly swollen breasts were very sensitive, which meant she brought a chest plate for safety and comfort. With a kind smile, the well-meaning trader removed her leather plate and gave it to Sarya, allowing the overfed plumper to burrow it at least for the first round of shooting.

Hope lighted in the cute brunette eyes in the face of such a kind gesture, and the overfed ex-thief quickly moved to strap on the chest plate, only to be met with immediate resistance. This should have been obvious for both women that Jasmine and Sarya had drastically different amounts of curves to contain, but still, there was something almost obscene about how ridiculously undersized the chest plate was for the bigger girl. The strap wasn’t even coming close to close around the plumper lady’s opulent chest, barely even reaching her back. This was more than embarrassing, it was ridiculous. Jasmine apologized profusely for her lack of judgment, feeling disconcerted and sorry for the obese girl, but part of her couldn’t help but to think that this was the unavoidable consequence of a clear moral deficiency on Sarya’s part. Surely no one could grow so massive without being some kind of hopeless glutton.

Forced to go without any support for her bulging bosom, Sarya had no choice but to try to shoot despite her cumbersome curves getting in the way. Without much surprise, the chubby damsel performed quite poorly. With the bow not pulled to full strength, her first shot was weak and didn’t even reached the target! Snickers and mockeries were whispered among the elite born women as Sarya prepared her second shot, this time pulling the string further away, having it sink deeply in the overflowing flesh of her opulent breast. When she released the arrow, the projectile flied fast and hit the target decently, but what caught everyone’s attention was the gasp of pain that left Sarya’s lips as the string slapped her soft chest on release, sending waves in her generous cleavage and leaving a red line on the pale skin. With the pain lingering, the overfed ex-urchin powered through and released one last arrow, this time trying to shoot with a different stance. Right before release, she stumbled a little, thrown off balance by her top heavy figure and the swaying mass of her gut, causing the arrow to hit the target on the far left, barely scoring any points.

The remaining women took turn at the target, and by the end of the first round, the points were calculated with unsurprising results. Evelyn announced with a barely hidden grin that Sarya had arrived dead last, meaning she was the first to be put out of the competition. The slender seamstress walked nimbly to her victim, and like a spider springing her trap, she escorted the fat beauty toward a waiting area that had been prepared near the shooting range, close enough to watch and comment on the archery contest. There were many tables placed there, tea tables to be exact, and more importantly, a copious amount of sugary pastries and treats. Evelyn pulled a chair for her gluttonous friend, sitting her right in reach of the largest pile of food. The buxom plumper sat with an hearty bounce going through her softened figure, her decadent belly spilling over her lap while her backside overflowing the small fancy seat. ‘’Make yourself comfortable dear. It’s a shame you couldn’t go further on the contest, but I am sure your poor charms are glad the torture is over. Did that hurt? It sounded like it did. You should taste some of those cakes, they will brighten your mood I am sure!’’ She commented, her words honeyed to lure Sarya into the web she created for her well fattened prey.

Evelyn was feeling very proud of herself. Everything was going as planned for the devious artisan. Sarya was eliminated first, and would be sitting by the buffet for the remainder of the competition. The overfed thief was on the verge of the precipice, and if she failed to understand the mistakes of her ways and didn’t use her willpower to resist her visceral urges, Evelyn was going to make sure she would remember this day as the day of her downfall. By the look on Sarya’s eyes, the slender athlete didn’t doubt she would make a total pig of herself. All that humiliation and shame needed comforting after all.

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  • 3 months later...

Chapter 17 : Sweet Consequence

Sarya glared at the enormous buffet sprawling over the tea table, barely registering Evelyn’s words and her perfectly faked empathy. The overfed ex-urchin was entranced by the literal pile of pastries placed right in arms reach, and she felt her plump midsection rumble at the sight. As soon as the tall seamstress turned heels to return to the archery contest, Sarya was reaching around her massive bosom and piling cookies, tea cakes, and pastries on a small porcelain plate, feeling almost frustrated by how small and inadequate it felt compared to all the goodies she had to taste. Watching the gorgeous damsel stuff her face, one may have thought that she had been starved for days, not that the decadent glutton had enjoyed a copious breakfast in bed a mere three hours ago. Sarya demolished a pyramid of puff pastries as if she had a personal vendetta against these cream filled delights, and she was leaving a trail of devastating on the buffet. She ate without interruption, only stopping when she accidentally dropped a cookie or a fired dough ball between her gigantic melons, her cleavage apparently competing with her belly. She forgot herself faced with such abundance, and her table manners, only recently acquired under Lucy’s care, were cracking slightly to expose more of her reckless gluttony.

The archery contest was moving along, but as the competitors got eliminated one by one, none joined Sarya. Instead, they simply stood at a distance, watching this obese young beauty ruin her body in stunned fascination. Evelyn had told them she had an appetite, but this was a freakish display of debauchery none of them was ready to face. With a mixture of awe and repulsion, they watched how Sarya’s massive backside swallowed the tiny seat provided by Evelyn, making it disappear almost entirely under the blubbery cushion of her bottom. They exchanged comments and snickered with superiority. One of them pointed at how the girl’s rolled gut was biting into the table slightly, and how Sarya’s humongous melons were resting heavily against the table each time she reached for more food, menacing to tip the table over under its weight. Another noticed how the messy glutton was getting her whole front dusted in powdered sugar in the process of devouring the buffet.

When Jasmine eventually joined them, walking slowly with her childbearing figure, she couldn’t help but feel pity for Sarya, who was getting mocked without even noticing the spectacle of her own decadence. Slowly, she went past the gawking group and got closer to the overfed beauty, noticing with horror that she had already eaten by herself more than half the food that had been placed for the whole group. Then, as she reached closer, about to place a hand on the brunette’s soft shoulder, Jasmine heard something odd, a strange metallic groaning. She stopped in her track, only to see the little pathetic seat that was supporting the whole of Sarya’s bulk give up under her enormous bum, the elegant metal chair pending out of shape as the obese girl crashed on the ground with a loud fleshy thud and a high pitched scream, kicking the tea table down in her fall. The fragile chair had finally lost its mighty figt against Malgoren’s fattest bottom, just like Evelyn had planned.

Even Jasmine couldn’t help but giggle at the pathetic spectacle provided by Sarya’s self-inflicted humiliation. The enormous young lady was laying in the grass flat on her back like a tipped turtle, her stuffed belly swaying ponderously on top of her. Her lower face was obscured by the bulging mass of her oversized breasts, which smashed against her chin in her fall, leaving the fattened fence stunned and with a face full of sugary powder and crumbs that surged from her cleavage’s chasm.  Sarya’s fatty legs were exposed, the pale blubbery pillars flailing helplessly in her fall, and then on the ground while she clumsily tried to sit up, then roll over when it proved impossible. Round and plump arms were struggling to reach around her bloated curves, and then to support her enormous bulk when she finally managed to turn on her side and move to hands and knees. Her fat stomach was brushing the grass under her, and her heavy hanging udders were dragging against the ground. Pictures of a prize winning cow grazing in a field were far too easy to conjure.

A concert of laughter and poorly hidden chuckles accompanied Sarya as she slowly got back on her feet, Evelyn quickly slipped out of the group to help her stand and nimbly dust her melons and barrel sized gut from dirt and crumbs. The tall athletic woman couldn’t help but let her fingers linger slightly on the enormously fattened little thief, feeling with disgust and sadistic joy how thick and heavy the fat layer was around the girl’s figure. She was ripe for harvest, her former self completely ruined by indulgence, gluttony, and a severe lack of self-control. Sayra didn’t noticed Evelyn’s creepy admiration of her own destructive work, maybe confusing her touch with Lucy’s genuine love, or too distracted by her obliterated ego and rising insecurities to notice. The following events went like a blur for the obese orphan. Never has she been so thoroughly humiliated, her self-worth so deeply injured, even when she was spat on and kicked while scavenging for scraps in the Shanty Towns as a child. This time, she felt she had only herself to blame.

Guided by Evelyn’s ‘caring’ presence, Sarya left the park on foot, taking the long walk ahead towards her friend’s boutique. She couldn’t help but notice countless little details, as if she had been blind until then. Since when could she feel her belly rest against her thighs when standing? When did her breasts grew so big she couldn’t quite hold them both in her arms? Were her thighs rubbing so much last time she went out for a walk? When was that by the way? She couldn’t stop focusing on her quivering mass of her swaying ass cheeks, or how her enormous tits were bouncing up and down at every step, sending small waves down her bloated gut. She felt like a massive pile of jelly; everything was moving, bouncing, rippling… while once her body was toned and hard as sinew. Did she really let herself go that far without noticing? Or maybe she didn’t want to notice, maybe she preferred to keep indulging and stuffing her face until she crushed a chair with her fat ass!

After what felt like an eternity, Sarya and Evelyn reached the shop, and the tall slender fencer opened the door for her chubby victim, letting her in with a barely hidden scoff of disgust as she noticed the overfed thief was wide enough around the hips to brush the edges of the entrance with her overflowing girth. Once Sarya got inside and out of the street, she immediately leaned against a counter, left exhausted after this long strenuous walk, her blouse hugging her enormous bosom like a second skin, glued to her skin by a thin sheet of sweat. Moving with a predator’s grace, Evelyn slowly locked the front door with her key, before slipping past Sarya’s ungainly figure and vanishing in the back store through its thin door.

‘’Wait here dear. You look like you need some rest. This morning certainly didn’t went well, did it? Who would have guessed something like that could happen. Such a bad luck! Anyhow, I am not going far. I actually got something to show you… let’s say it’s a surprise. Catch your breath, I will be back in a second.’’

-

Her massive breasts heaving, the young criminal took a minute to recover and gather her thoughts. She felt horrified by her own situation, how she let herself grow into something so inherently opposed to what she used to be, a nimble street urchin, a quick footed thief, someone in control, capable of seizing any opportunity. She felt weighted down by her own bulk, a clumsy and helpless shell of herself. Why didn’t Evelyn or Lucy warned her? She felt lied to, but maybe this came from a place of love, the ones closest to her no wanted to hurt her feelings. The worst was that she could still remember the taste of her decadent feasts on her tongue, and caught herself wanting more, the mere thought making her sick with self-loathing. Was she nothing more than a big gluttonous cow, a top heavy pile of lard? There wasn't much Weasel left in her.

Sarya was still frozen into this body dismorphic state of shock when Evelyn stepped back in the store, carrying a box in her long toned arms.

‘’I hope you are ready darling. I wanted to show you a dress I created for a costumer last year. She was a young heiress from the North countries, a foreign visitor. By a wild twist of fate, it returned to me... I was certain I would never see this dress again. Come see it, please. Brace yourself, I am certain it won’t leave you indifferent.’’

Evelyn gently placed the box on the counter by Sarya’s side, before stepping back with a raptorial grace. Behind her slender waist was hidden her dagger sheet, and her experienced fingers wrapped themselves around it’s hilt when she pulled her hands behind her back. The time of reckoning had come, at last.

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  • 2 months later...

After a long wait, here are a few visual references for Sarya, This sequence shows Sarya's fattening journey as seen between chapter 1 and 14

At the current point of the story, Sarya is even plumper than shown here, with her breasts taking a larger part of her gain after a more balanced growth so far. This bigger Sarya is going to be drawn, but not before I write the next chapter of her chub filled misadventures. Hopefully soon :3

sarya_weasel.jpg

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Lol, i hadn't realized I'd lost track of this story and it had gotten bigger on me than I realized.

Anyway, love what you've done with her. I'm hoping that after some more thorough humiliation, she either winds up: A. a sort of fat, jabba the hut queen of the underworld relying on connections for power or B. Evelyn's obese and pampered pet.

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[TW : dark, contains physical and verbal abuse]

Chapter 18 : The Trap

Sarya looked at the box just presented to her by Evelyn, curiosity momentarily moving her away from her spiral of self-loathing. The stuffed and tired ex-thief didn’t noticed the predator’s spark in Evelyn’s eyes, nor the dagger hidden being her back, her usually sharp senses dulled by months of indulgent and leisured life. Slowly, she waddled toward the counter, her overfed belly gently pressing against the wooden edge as she leaned forward, a round chubby arm reaching to open the box. As soon as she removed the lid, the knowledgeable fence noticed something was odd. That fabric was oddly familiar, that lush green silk, so soft and smooth to the touch. Raising an eyebrow, Sarya took the box’s content and pulled it out in one movement, revelling the unforgivable green dress she left with Evelyn when they first met, with her plump flesh poking out of its ripped seems. It was the most luxurious piece of clothing Sarya had ever worn, something that was, all considered, above the station she picked for her false identity.

Immediately, pieces started to snap together inside of Sarya’s mind, and hairs raised on the back of her neck as the implication of that ‘surprise’ became clear. Evelyn knew she had stolen it, and with this whole set up, she probably also understood Sarya’s masquerade. The obese brunette had no idea for how long Evelyn had been aware of this, but there was no doubt in her that the elegant ex-adventurer wasn’t there to make a friendly intervention. Whatever there was between her and Sarya at this point wasn’t kindness.

Slowly, trying to hide her expression, Sarya turned to glance at Evelyn, and was met with a set of stone cold grey eyes that made her shiver under the many inches of fat that covered her body. The trader’s lips were pressed thin with contempt and hatred, and Sarya couldn’t help but step back at the sight of such hostility painted in the face of someone she saw as a friend. Too late to act dumb, this woman wanted her skin! Sarya had to get out of there! She could always lay low at the Three Calices and sort this problem out, but she had to leave.

With pure fear giving her strength and clarity, the usually charming and easy going city girl returned to her long buried street survival instincts, the kind of which she had to rely upon as an orphan living in the slums. She had no weapon, but if she could knock Evelyn down, she could get out in the street and hopefully be safe from her murderous loathing.

Trying to remember her fights as a teenager, Sarya charged the taller woman, praying that she could use her weight advantage to get the best of her. But Sarya wasn’t a bigger and stronger street urchin bullying the kids around for their loot, she was an out of shape and clumsy ball of lard, and her movements were sluggish, predictable, and pathetic for Evelyn’s trained eyes. The toned swordswoman kept one hand behind her back, smirking at the unpredictable attack from her delusional prey. She didn’t expect a thief to have such strong survival instinct. That was a surprise that almost made her laugh. She glared with disgust at the butterball lounging towards her, Sarya’s chubby arms flailing like fat padded clubs directed toward her face and muscular stomach.

Stepping aside in one graceful motion, Evelyn dodged the face punch, while the other missed her midriff, finding Evelyn’s lean profile too small of a target to land a hit, as was the purpose of a fencer’s stance. Cow tits bouncing around and throwing her off balance, Sarya crashed against a mannequin behind Evelyn, her barrel sized gut absorbing the impact with a sigh of pain from the out of shape ex-rogue, which was already panting after this burst of effort. Needing the key to unlock the door, Sarya turned back toward Evelyn, doubt adding to the turmoil of expressions that could be seen on her reddening face.

Failing to consider her current state of obesity, the formerly nimble street girl feigned a punch, but instead went for a powerful kick that could have hit Evelyn right in the solar plexus… if Sarya rolled gut didn’t got in the way of her thick leg, causing the kick to raise about as high as Evelyn’s knee, an attack she dodged easily with a quick leap from her toned shins.

Thrown off-balance by her failed strike, Sarya stumbled backward, her enormous bum causing her to crash against the changing cabin, the fragile pine door almost breaking under the strain from stopping the obese brawler. Barely standing with her oversized curves wobbling left and right, Sarya was already finding it hard to find her breath, her enormous tits stretching the thin fabric of her blouse as they heaved helplessly.

Disgusted, Evelyn went on the offensive, sidestepping Sarya with the speed of a viper before shoving her on the side, watching with boredom as the obese brunette toppled over and landed on her belly with a loud fleshy thud, her breath knocked out of her lungs by the ungraceful fall. Rolling on the ground like a fat slug, Sarya tried to push herself back up, grunting under the strain of hauling both her belly and bosom off the floor, only to find the point of Evelyn’s leather boot land on her side with brutally. The boot only failed to break a rib because of the sheer thickness of Sarya’s side fat, but the Weasel still whimpered in pain, rolling on her opposite side in a sad attempt to escape Evelyn’s attacks.

That clumsy effort didn’t do much to help Sarya’s situation, only causing her enormous belly to escape the waistband of her skirt, and spill on the floor right in front of her like a smooth buttery slab. Evelyn stopped in her track, almost stunned in disgust, before stepping on the lard pile, putting all her weight on her heel and watching with sadistic pleasure as Sarya squirmed in pain, crying, and trying to crawl always, with no avail.

‘’What a disgusting little blob you have become, thief! All buried in useless, pathetic, cumbersome flesh. You used to be fit, didn’t you? I remember, you were merely plump when you stormed into my shop, wearing MY creation, a dress you not only stole, but stretched and ripped with your shameful gluttony.’’

Evelyn let go the hilt of her dagger, realizing she didn’t needed any weapon to completely overpower the shorter girl. The greedy piglet was barely strong enough to fight against her own body! Stepping away from Sarya, she slowly paraded around her, her long toned legs moving with a grace and elegance that was now alien to the hedonistic ex-urchin.

‘’I barely had to do anything to ruin you. You did it yourself. I simply stood there, watching you eat yourself away from your strength, your good looks, and then your decency. Did you really believe you could fit among us? Us who deserve our status and wealth? You are nothing but a greedy sow, and now anyone that looks at you will see you for who you truly are.’’

She swiftly leaned down, grabbing Sarya by her soft plump neck, thin and strong fingers sinking into sensitive skin, and making the already panting girl gasping for air. Slowly, Evelyn stood up, forcing Sarya to do the same or else the stranglehold would grow stronger. The toned ex-adventurer then let go her grasp, watching her now standing obese prey bend in two and rub her neck, fat melon sized breasts swaying in a cascading cleavage that would look indecent even on an half-giant. Snickering, the hateful seamstress grabbed on her these low hanging fruit, painfully squeezing the sensitive flesh, finding herself somewhat amazed by the softness of it all, only to be distracted by Sarya pathetically trying to push her away. Letting go, Evelyn slapped the fat girl with all the strength of a fighting woman, her nails leaving a bleeding gash on her round bring red cheek.

‘’Behave yourself, cow! Or else you will regret making me angry. Don’t be mistaken, you have no control over this situation. I will decide of your fate, so you better learn your place.’’

Sarya was swallowed by pain, and wrapped her arms around her enormous bosom in a protective manner, feeling the bruised flesh throbbing under her hands. Tears dried on her cheeks, and slowly, she recovered her composure. Evelyn wanted something from her, but she didn’t want her dead. She was a twisted, vengeful psychotic cunt, but she was after some kind of win, not a kill. Mustering the strength to speak, Sarya asked her what she wanted, what she would do with her.

‘’Oh… Don’t you worry my dear, dear, Sarya. I am a duellist you know, I wouldn’t kill such a helpless foe, that wouldn’t show much sportsmanship.’’

Evelyn moved back to the green dress, which was laying on the countertop, discarded. She took the dress in her hands, pensively looking at her creation before glancing back at Sarya.

‘’I first planned to have you put this on, you know, to show you how ridiculous your pretense at respectability was. I added more than 10 inches of fabric, planning ahead for this moment. But I misjudged the extent of your gluttony. I am afraid this dress is now useless, you are already way too fat to get into it, we will have to make do without it.’’

Sarya stood immobile, cold sweat dripping down her back, her knees weak from fear as well as the walk that brought her back from the park. She noticed the dagger hidden behind Evelyn’s slender body, the sheath placed right over her toned bum. The dark haired seamstress had something in mind, and Sarya was feeling anxiety build up toward that reveal. All she hoped was that this dagger had to part to play in this. She knew some cities mutilated thieves as punishment. Was Evelyn about to take her fingers? Sarya shivered in horror, but stood without moving, waiting to learn her fate.

‘’I am tempted by leniency. No matter what awaits you ahead in life, I am certain you future is grim. You are too far gone, too hopelessly depraved to get any hold of yourself. I promise not to hunt you down or expose you to the city watch, but you will have to leave through the back entrance. You are no friend of mine, and certainly not a customer either, not with this figure. You simply have to leave like the bloated rat you are, and you will be free.’’ Elelyn smirked with a predators eyes, pointing at the back store’s doorway, hidden behind a curtain. Moments ago, she had slipped through it with the dress’ box in her hands. Could that really be so simple?

Hesitant, Sarya carefully stepped around Evelyn, moving slowly, as if not to upset some malignant beast that had her cornered. The floor boards groaned under her bulk as she moved toward the back of the shop. The overfed brunette was making great care to keep eye contact with Evelyn as she pulled the curtain aside and glanced at the seamstress workshop hidden behind it. The way looked safe, and she could see the wooden doorway that certainly led to the back alley. Sarya felt a touch of relief course through her body as she started to leave, until to freeze dead in her track as she felt her wide, abundant, decadent, and fat laden hips get wedged inside the thin doorway separating the back store from the shop. The narrowness of the doorframe had been obfuscated by the curtain, but this passage was properly narrow, thinner than even the most modest doorways in the slum.

'’Oh, yes, I forgot that this door might feel a little cramped to you. Not that I eyed your measurements and knew for a fact they would struggle with this 20 inches gap. It was like this when I bought the shop, years ago. I learned the back store was a different rental once, and they got lazy cutting the wall when they fused the two spaces. Not that it was much of an issue for me or my employees… but you. Oh my… are you wedged tight already?’’

Sarya blood was running cold in her veins as she tried to squeeze her oversized body inside the narrow gap. Face first was clearly not going to work, but even when she shifted herself sideways, she felt her fat belly bite the edges of the passage. It was not only narrow, but the wall was thicker than normal, exactly the kind of structure that would separate two individual buildings. Sarya started to groan in frustration, cursing under her breath as she squirmed inside the tight trap laid by Evelyn. It wasn’t like she could do anything but try to jam herself through. Even then, was this dark haired demon really going to let her go? Sarya preferred not to linger on it too much; her situation was already hopeless enough as it was.

Evelyn moved closer to Sarya, a grin glued on her face as she saw how enormous the short brunette looked in contrast with the narrow passage. There were fat rolls, tit flesh, and huge mushy butt cheeks overflowing in every direction, the girl almost looking as she was spilling out of the doorway like a ooze monster. Thin fingers moved on the flanks of her struggling prey, prodding her blubber, sinking knuckle deep in pure buttery flab. It was grotesque and oddly fascination for the tall seamstress. Who knew fat was so gross, yet so soft? This texture was unlike anything she touched. Was it Sarya’s absolutely unmatched obesity that made her fat layers so different from any matron’s baby weight? Or maybe it was her youth?

Sarya tried to ignore Evelyn weird silence and prodding, concentrating on moving forward. She sucked her belly as hard as she could, asking her underworked and atrophied core muscles to forgive her for all the stuffing and abuse she put them under. It didn’t helped much, but it made her belly inches a little deeper inside, her hip beginning to poke on the other side. Now, it was her pumpkin sized tits and her fecund bottom that were getting the most in the way. Toneless and fat, her butt could more or less be squeezed through the gap, but she had to use her hand and slowly, painfully, pathetically push her fat in, one little ounce at a time. She was also using her other hand on the opposite side to pull on the flesh on a similar fashion. Evelyn laughed watching her do so, clearly having expected Sarya to give up.

‘’Oh my. I really should have put a time limit to this challenge. Is that really a testament to your skills if it takes you days to get through? Change of plan, you crafty cow, you have five minutes to get out of my shop before I call the guards. Better get those fat tits of yours out of there quick.’’

That wasn’t fair! Sarya hurried as much as she could, using her thick, chubby legs to push while painfully squeezing her belly and butt cheeks through the gap. She was soon drenched in sweat and tears, huffing and puffing; biting her tongue not to scream as her numerous bruises were getting pressed against the unrelenting walls. Eventually, after minutes of struggle, she somehow managed to push the peak of her belly past the tight squeeze, and quickly slipped her second butt cheek free, leaving only her upper body stuck at a weird angle in the doorway, her famously voluptuous bosom the last obstacle to her freedom.

Evelyn started to count, ‘’30, 29, 28…’’ slowly moving toward the front door, fidgeting with her keys. Sarya let out a scream of helpless rage, pushing against her oversized breasts with self-loathing and anger. Accidentally, she struck her teardrop shaped bust right where Evelyn cruelly groped her earlier, hitting the sensitive injured flesh with more strength than she should have. Her legs buckled under the pain, causing her to fall over out of control, like in slow motion.

Sarya eyes widened in fear and she felt her body falling backward while her huge, ballooned, oversized breasts were still stuck inside the doorway. Soon, all of her enormous body weight was pulling on the poor orbs. Her captive shoulder almost dislocated itself with a nasty cracking sound, before it popped through the gap, causing her body to turn and face the doorway once more. For a small, excruciating moment, she hung by the mass of her bosom, oversized tits wedge in their 20 inches prison, supporting all the immensity of her decadence.

Then, helped by the sweat drenching their curves, they simply squeezed through, her blouse ripping in the process, with the fat melons swaying, red and sore, before landing with an heavy thud on the shelf of her stomach. Her back caught Evelyn’s nearby working bench, and Sarya almost slip to the ground, but she stopped her fall, knowing all too well she didn’t had the time to stand up if she went down.

Evelyn looked at Sarya in shock as her obese prey defied all odds and, in one last burst of effort, dashed through the workshop and opened the door, stepping into the light, half naked and with her soaked clothes hugging each and every fold of her obese body. All she could hear was staggering away in the alley was Evelyn loath fuelled congratulations.

‘’Well done cow, well done. Waddle back to your pathetic life. I am certain the journey back to your den will be very fun. Oh, and try to stay away from narrow doors from now on! You are no burglar, I am afraid to say!’’

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  • 1 year later...

Chapter 19 : Tattered

Shameful, useless, and cumbersome flesh bounced out of control as the formerly famed Weasel ran away in the alley. She who used to be the most successful street urchin of Malgoren’s shanty towns was now reduced to a waddling, out of shape, and obese mess. Covered in bruises, friction burns, and cuts from her fight and followed struggles to escape the shop, she had fled once more, but this time it was disgust and pity that saved her, not her skill or agility.

Tears were filling Sarya’s eyes, tears of pain, humiliation, and self-loathing. Her clothes were tattered, exposing her oversized breasts to any onlooker in the alley, and revealing a body so thick with fat it was no longer merely rejected by societal norms, but by the mere architecture of the city itself. Sarya’s denial was over now, and it dawned upon her that she never in her whole life saw a woman so overfed, so decadent, and so gluttonous that her belly rested on her thighs, or that her hips brushed the sides of most doors. She was, in fact, the fattest person she ever met, and had been so for a while now, made as such by her own delusions and rampant hedonism.

Too exhausted to move any further, the overfed criminal slowed down, her ungainly run downgrading to a slow walk, until she simply collapsed on the ground, sitting her massive backside on a patch of grass and overgrowth sprouting in an abandoned backyard. Night wasn’t there yet… and she was half-naked. Better to sit there, hidden in the alley, and wait for the darkness to travel through the city. She experienced enough shame already without being arrested by the city watch. Would the cells even fit her?

Dark thoughts smothered the former street urchin in a lullaby of self-pity and disgust, putting her to sleep and guiding her toward nightmares of rampant gluttony, with visions of backbreaking breasts crushing her lungs, sprawling belly aprons swallowing her legs, and pillowy limbs gone vestigial in their fat casing. Her sleep was not restful in the slightest.

She woke up hours later, her cheeks wet with tears, shivering in the cold night, an odd call back to her youth spent in the streets of the shanty towns. Back then, however, she never struggled to get up from the ground, and sneaking through the streets was never such a difficult task.
 

*

It took Sarya everything she had to return to the Three Calices in her state. On the way back, she got noticed more than a few times, but her obese exposed form was such an odd sight that people either blinked in disbelief or looked away in confusion and discomfort, no one daring approaching this fat pariah waddling across the capital.

Not daring entering the inn by the main door, not in her state, Sarya instead went around, slipping into a side alley and toward the service door used for deliveries. Parts of the alley were so cluttered with crates and barrels that the fat girl had to squeeze sideways through the piles, which made the brunette shiver in fear from the recent trauma of getting stuck. Still, she wasn’t quite too big to navigate these parts, and the service door wasn’t so narrow shifting her shoulders couldn’t suffice to squeeze through.

Once inside, the former thief snatched a cook’s apron, which barely managed to cover her tits, and quickly raced toward her room, drawing confused looks and worried glances from those that knew her and noticed her tattered state.

Before long, Lucy was by her side, with a wet cloth and healing salve in hands, tending to her lover and listening to the horrible tale of the recent events. If love and care were at the forefront of Lucy’s thoughts as she listened, more was happening in the back of her mind. Hate against Evelyn was flowing through the blonde’s mind, but there were also selfish, indulgent worries.

Would this traumatic event steal from her the Sarya she adored? What would happen to the girl that bit into life so fully she didn’t care for her waistline? What would become of the hedonism, pleasure seeking, and appetite she learned to associate with her plump lover? Lucy didn’t know how to handle Sarya expressing so much hate and disgust toward the parts of her she loved the most passionately, the most viscerally.

As Sarya was sobbing and talking about dieting, losing weight, and getting her old figure back, all Lucy was thinking about was how she could make Sarya learn to love her opulent body, now that denial was out of the window…

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