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"The Fat French Maid" Part 2
🕑 Added 2024-10-01 23:28:31 +0000 UTCWhere have I been the last few days? Writing this over 7,000 word party which brings the whole piece too over 11,000 words. More than Lana gets transformed in this piece, and it ends with a tease for an exclusive cut story to follow. Want to some of the exclusive cut story to follow? A teaser will be going up on my Discord later tonight for Talking BS Members (6 dollar members) For now....
Enjoy!
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Marcella Weatherfall was a plump woman, and that was putting it nicely. To put it less nicely, she was an extremely plump woman. And to put it more bluntly, she was fat, not just overweight but clinically obese. Many people would tell you that she carried the weight well, that her money and social standing had long since given her the kind of confidence that she had been sorely lacking in high school. And now, on top of being a socialite who funded numerous charitable organizations from autism awareness to zoo foundations, Marcella was also a proud member of the body positivity movement.
Most people would likely tell you that Marcella was gorgeous, at least in her own way, and that her confidence was what made her so sexy, that she was a paragon of virtue, a pillar of the community and role model to be respected and admired.
Lana was not most people.
Lana had been a perpetual thorn in Marcella’s side since their preppy boarding school days together. She was the classic mean girl, always ready to make Marcella’s life a living hell at every opportunity, and it was only out of sheer social obligation that Marcella even invited Lana to her party. And now Marcella was doing everything she could to enjoy said party before Hurricane Lana came blowing in and sucked all the air out of the room.
Marcella was dressed in an elaborate Marie Antoinette costume complete with huge hoop skirt and incredibly high wig. She was truly dolled up and enjoying all of the attention until her hired footmen allowed Lana through the doors of her mansion.
“Damn,” she muttered under her breath as she was forced to part from her adoring company to greet her latest guest.
“Lana, darling. Don’t you look stunning.”
“And don’t you look like a well painted pig,” said Lana with a broad smile on her face and an easy demeanor as she pulled Marcella in for a hug.
While holding Marcella there, Lana leaned in to whisper in her ear.
“Seriously, my hefty friend, your corset and petticoat aren’t fooling anyone. We all know the gelatinous gut and fat ass you’re trying to hide under there.”
Marcella pulled away.
“That’s incredibly rude.”
“It’s incredibly honest. A cow is still a cow no matter how much cloth you pile atop all that blubber.”
Marcella flushed red enough to peek through the heavy amount of makeup she was wearing.
“I- I could have you thrown out of my house you know.”
“Oh, darling. No you can’t. What would all our friends think? I would just take them with me, and that would be social suicide for you.”
It was like Marcella was suddenly back in high school and she was holding back tears.
“You’re just so mean.”
“And also gorgeous, glamorous, brilliant and very influential. Face it, Marcie Marshmallow, you’re stuck with me.”
Lana gave Marcella a condescending pat on the shoulder and sauntered in the main party, immediately taking her place and inserting herself into the very conversation that Marcella had left to greet her, leaving the party host standing in the foyer sad and alone.
And that’s when Mathilde arrived at the door.
The fancy dressed footmen at the door weren’t much of a problem for Mathilde.
“Name?” asked the men in unison.
“For?”
“The list. We need to check to see that you’re on the list.”
“Men,” thought Mathilde just before blowing some powder in their faces.
These two wouldn’t take much to manipulate, just a little glitter powder she had taken form the store and a little Jedi mind-trick style hand wave and-
“You don’t need to check your list.”
“We don’t need to check the list.”
“You want me to enjoy this party.”
“Enjoy the party.”
She was in.
And once she was in, she ran into an extremely portly woman dressed as Marie Antoinette whom she assumed was the party host.
“Wh-who are you?”
A bit more glitter powder and hand waving,
“A friend.”
“Of course! Welcome! It’s so good to see you, my friend. I love the whole goth witch costume you’ve got going on. Very sexy.”
“Costume. Right. Anyway-”
Hand wave.
“You want me to enjoy this party.”
“Enjoy the party!”
“Mi casa es su casa.”
“Thank you for your generosity. I will have to take you up on tha offer some time.”
“Wait. What? Damnit. This is what I get for trying to get too cute with Spanish.”
Glitter. Hand wave.
“You want to give me free reign of YOUR house.”
“Mi casa es su casa!”
“There we go.”
After that last exchange, Mathilde gave the now somewhat more confused Marcella a nod and made her way further into the house, surveying the party for Lana while reminding herself that she was running low and costume glitter and would need to be careful with what she had left lest she need to use it.
It wasn’t long before Mathilde spotted her prey and went to cross the room to Lana only to run into someone else completely.
And she ran into that someone else quite literally.
“Watch where you’re going fat ass!”
The rude woman who bumped into Mathilde was a bleached blonde in a sexy fox costume. She spoke with the tone of someone who had spent her whole life being a slender entitled brat, and Mathilde thought she would be much better off as a sexy piggy learning some proper humility.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“You should be sorry, you bloated cow. You don’t even have a good costume. What are you? A fat witch? Lame. You’re trash, fat trash.”
Yeah definitely sexy piggy time.
Mathilde reached into her purse and pulled out one of the pieces of candy that she had gotten from her cousin Yakov just for this kind of occasion, it was a chewy bit of butterscotch meant to spark a sudden and dramatic increase in appetite and some immediate weight gain, nothing crazy, but certainly enough to make Miss Sexy Fox embarrassingly chunky.
“You’re right. You’re so right. I’m sorry. Would you like some candy?”
The woman in the sexy fox costume recoiled in disgust.
“Eww. What? You seriously want me to take candy from a stranger? You weirdo. First of all, I wouldn’t do that, and second, I definitely wouldn’t take candy from a fat loser like you. What are you trying to do, drug me?”
Well… technically…
“So be gone, you fat cow.”
Right. Glitter time. Hand wave.
“You want to eat this candy.”
“Thanks! I’d love that piece of candy.”
The slim and sexy vixen in the vulpine costume snatched the butterscotch candy from Mathilde’s hands and eagerly shoved it into her mouth, moaning as the delicious sugary chew filled her with intense pleasure. And Mathilde felt a great amount of pleasure as well in that moment.
She could see the slender woman blowing up with every chew.
It wasn’t much mind you, not nearly as extreme as Mathilde had seen happen to plenty others. But with each chew of the candy another pound found itself settling here and there. All over the formerly slim woman grew softer, and the non-magical costume stayed the same size. So Mathilde really got to enjoy the way that her belly subtly swelled and pushed at the fabric of the costume. The swelling of her belly was joined by the swelling of her breasts which now threatened to spill over the top of the costume. And as the woman’s breasts and belly continued to growl, her now pudgy stomach began to growl.
And that growling stomach led her over to the buffet table.
She went to town on crostini and crab cakes. Crumbs flew everywhere as she hungrily hogged out on the hors d'oeuvre. It was like she was a woman possessed, and while there was a part of her mind that was chastising her, her hands couldn’t stop themselves from moving. The shrimp cocktail was next as she took shrimp two at a time, dipped them in cocktail sauce, and sucked them down. Sauce splattered and dripped out of the sides of her mouth and down her chin making her look like some kind of overfed vampire. But she paid it no mind as she continued to eat.
And as she ate her thighs began to thicken. They were quite getting to the point of rubbing together yet, but as she moved along the buffet, those thunder thighs certainly started to quake and earn their name, slapping together again and again with every frantic movement brought about by her feeding frenzy. Her previously toned legs now had distinct dimples of cellulite visible to the numerous onlookers who were now stopping to stare at the vain woman suddenly bent over and devouring delectable delight after delight.
In turn, those people took delight in the downfall of the previously slim and now properly chunk individual stuffing her face, seemingly for their amusement. And the area around the buffet table was suddenly filled with insidious gossip.
“Is that Candi eating like a pig?”
“Holy shit yea. Sexy fox? Poor costume choice. She should have been a cow.”
“She used to be so hot.”
“Yeah. She really let herself go. Like… damn!”
“The lightning must be really great at the entrance. I could have sworn she still looked stunning when she came in.”
“Well now we can all see what a bloated mess she is.”
“Oink. Oink.”
“She’s really packed on the pounds.”
“Really porked up.”
“Oink. Oink. Oink.”
“Looks like Candi’s had too much candy.”
“Moooooooo!”
Mathilde couldn’t believe her luck. It was too perfect, too delicious- Candi being fattened by magical candy. If she had written it down, it would be too stupid. But instead it was preposterously pleasurable to watch those who used to admire and fear the previously slim vixen become super catty now that she was turning into a fatty.
“Look at that fat ass!”
“So much flab!”
“Damn, girl needs a costume that actually fits.”
“And to get back in the gym.”
Candi’s butt cheeks had indeed gotten quite chunky, and since she was bent over, the were seen quite clearly since they had grown round enough to force the skirt of her costume to ride up. They were bulbous cheeks, far from the firm ones she was sporting before, and because Candi was wearing a thong, those newly chunky cheeks now also looked fully exposed as the thong was swallowed up by her new blubber. Her butt bounced and quivered with each motion, and her constant jiggling was quite the talk of the partygoers around her.
“What a greedy piglet.”
“She’s certainly gotten rather porky.”
“She should slow down.”
“Oh yeah. But I don’t think she can.”
“She’s going to keep ballooning.”
“I hope so! She was always so mean. Serves her right to plump up, really hog out, you know?”
“There’s nothing funny about getting fat.”
“Except for Candi’s case. Her impending obesity is hysterical.”
“NO! Obese? You really think so?”
“Oh yeah. Look at her go. She’s on a downward spiral for the ages. She’ll be an obese heifer in no time.”
“Oh I really hope you’re right. That would be such perfect karma.”
“I just want to give her belly a squeeze.”
“Do it! I dare you!”
“Oink. Oink. Mooooooo.”
Mathilde chuckled and started to walk away, but before she did, she dropped the rest of her magical candies into a nearby dish, eager to cause some more chaos.
But for now, she reset herself specifically to her mission of finding Lana.
Meanwhile, Lana was deep into party mode, once again thrilled to find herself as the center of attention, moving from group to group, never staying with one for too long of a time. She loved to build up this air of mystery about herself, like she couldn’t be tied down. It left people wanting more and kept their attention on her even when she wasn’t there.
And she often liked to leave these groups on a good barb either at the expense of someone there or someone else entirely, often the host.
“And that’s why I said ‘Marcie Marshmallow, it doesn’t matter how much money you have, you’re still just a cow.’ She’s so desperate to impress us all, to feel in control, but she can’t even control her own appetite, so how does she expect us to respect her?”
“You’re so right, Lana. Marcella really does need to watch her figure. It’s clear that she’s indulging far too much at this elaborate affairs and elsewhere, just stuffing her face all the time like a pig,” added Angelica, one of the ladies at the party who Lana might of thought of as a friend but was really much more of a loyal sycophant.
“Anyway, I looked right at her and said ‘Well this has been fun, darling, but I really have to mooooove along.’”
And then, with everyone left laughing at her joke, Lana did just that.
She would never admit it to the group, but Lana’s stomach was rumbling, and she needed to eat something. In fact, her stomach was starting to grumble so loudly during that last conversation that she was afraid someone would hear. She was glad to find a place to make her exit while insulting Marcella.
On her way to find some food, Lana saw another party guest who she only vaguely recognized. The girl was one of those traditionally quiet types that hang around in a social circle. Lana couldn’t remember her name, but she recognized her chubby face. The hefty girl was eating a cupcake while dressed in an attempt at a sexy pumpkin costume, and Lana couldn’t resist a jab.
“Darling, do you really need that cupcake? You’re looking round enough as it is.”
But the girl just ignored her, eating her cupcake, so Lana decided to press it further.
“I said, Piggy. You ought to put that cupcake down. You look enough like a pumpkin. You don’t have to be so method about it. Those sweets are not doing you favors.”
Still, the chubby girl ignored her and started to walk away. It was not like Lana to feel invisible, so she took a few steps after her.
“You fat cow. You’re an absolute heifer stuffing your face with junk like that. You should be ashamed of yourself. But- but look at you- you’re too busy stuffing your face to even hear me, what a shame. You’re disgusting. Moo… moooo.”
But her moo had very little on it as the chubby girl continued to walk away. Lana certainly wasn’t going to suffer the indignity of chasing after her anymore just to be further annoyed. She would have to be content with the lie she spoke out loud about the girl being too caught up in eating to hear her. What made her far less content however was the fact that the cupcake eating chubby girl had dropped a bunch of crumbs while eating and walking.
“What a fat slob,” Lana thought with a sigh.
She didn’t know why she was suddenly so annoyed by a little bit of mess, but she found herself looking for some napkins, and was happy to see she could handle two messes at the same time by picking up a few stray napkins that others had carelessly dropped and using them to clean up the mess.
Smiling at her efficiency, but still with a rumbling stomach, she made her way over to the snack table.
Lana failed to notice the slight jiggle to her thighs as she did so.
Meanwhile, Mathilde was still on the prowl. This party was full of haughty people that she would love to personally transform, but she didn’t quite have the power to just go about changing everyone by herself. Besides that kind of chaos would get noticed, and people who cause too much of that sort of thing tend to get in trouble, abuse of power, being dangerous and all that.
Mathilde ran one hand along her corseted belly and reminded herself that arrogance and unchecked use of her magic was part of why she was so pleasantly plump in the first place, and while she was perfect content with her gorgeous goth body and in fact enjoyed being a hefty hottie, there was the potential for getting too much of a good thing, and people could come up with far more clever punishments for witches who stepped too far out of line. She would have to keep herself in check.
A little bit of chaos, especially on Halloween was permissible, some specific acts of fattening vengeance were in fact encouraged, but too much was trouble, and trouble always ended up being more than it was worth.
Then Mathilde bumped into another party guest.
This one was a big titted bimbo dressed up as Glinda from the Wizard of Oz and drunk on too much punch.
“Wow, fatty, like watch where you’re going. You almost knocked me over with that big fat gut of yours.”
It was, in actuality, Mathilde’s massive chest that hit her first thanks to the fact that her gut was contained to a corset, but the drunk Glinda was too intoxicated to notice or care. She did however take notice of Mathilde’s costume which got her giggling to herself.
“I know you’re a fat witch. But are you a good witch, or a bad witch?”
The fact that drunk Glinda was so clearly high on her own perceived cleverness was what got Mathilde reaching into her purse for her wand.
A little trouble couldn’t hurt.
“Trust me. I’m a very bad witch.”
It took a large bit of concentration, and Mathilde could feel herself getting suddenly light headed and developing the start of a nosebleed, but soon the drunken Glinda started to swell.
First her already big breasts ballooned further, growing to almost comical proportions and in keeping with her drunk bimbo attitude. They were like swollen bowling balls with bright red stretch marks, and they were spilling out of the top of her dress while fighting to maintain their struggle against gravity thanks to whatever kind of heavy support Glinda was already wearing. Her breasts quivered as the rest of her body began to grow as well.Meanwhile, Mathilde was still on the prowl. This party was full of haughty people that she would love to personally transform, but she didn’t quite have the power to just go about changing everyone by herself. Besides that kind of chaos would get noticed, and people who cause too much of that sort of thing tend to get in trouble, abuse of power, being dangerous and all that.
Mathilde ran one hand along her corseted belly and reminded herself that arrogance and unchecked use of her magic was part of why she was so pleasantly plump in the first place, and while she was perfect content with her gorgeous goth body and in fact enjoyed being a hefty hottie, there was the potential for getting too much of a good thing, and people could come up with far more clever punishments for witches who stepped too far out of line. She would have to keep herself in check.
A little bit of chaos, especially on Halloween was permissible, some specific acts of fattening vengeance were in fact encouraged, but too much was trouble, and trouble always ended up being more than it was worth.
Then Mathilde bumped into another party guest.
This one was a big titted bimbo dressed up as Glinda from the Wizard of Oz and drunk on too much punch.
“Wow, fatty, like watch where you’re going. You almost knocked me over with that big fat gut of yours.”
It was, in actuality, Mathilde’s massive chest that hit her first thanks to the fact that her gut was contained to a corset, but the drunk Glinda was too intoxicated to notice or care. She did however take notice of Mathilde’s costume which got her giggling to herself.
“I know you’re a fat witch. But are you a good witch, or a bad witch?”
The fact that drunk Glinda was so clearly high on her own perceived cleverness was what got Mathilde reaching into her purse for her wand.
A little trouble couldn’t hurt.
“Trust me. I’m a very bad witch.”
Mathilde couldn’t see the woman’s thighs thickening thanks to the cut of the dress, but she could sense it. She knew that Glinda was definitely developing a nice set of thunder thighs and a fat flabby ass to go with it. She could see the fabric of the dress bending and straining as the woman’s hips widened. Even her face started to soften a bit.
And then Mathilde heard it.
The tell tale sound of a girdle snapping.
And soon that girdle hit the floor, and by the time it did, Glinda’s stomach exploded out in front of her and the fabric of her dress began to tear as several seams popped. Her gut surged forward with incredible intensity and not just because of the magic. As Mathilde discovered upon looking down at the girdle, Glinda had been hiding a bit of a gut all along.
“Hypocritical bitch,” thought Mathilde with a grin on her face as a crowd began to gather around to gawk at Glinda.
“Holy shit! Rachel is popping out of her costume!”
“When did she get so fat?”
“She must have been hiding it for a while. Look at that girdle!”
“Piggy pigged out once too often and now she’s popped out of her girdle.”
“Oink. Oink.”
“What a hypocrite, she’s always making fun of fat girls, and she’s been a fatty this entire time.”
“Enjoy a slice of karma with your cake, you fat bitch!”
Mathilde used the commotion of the crowd to slip away. She was content with her latest transformation but still more concerned with spotting her preferred prey, Lana.
Lana was staring greedily at a platter full of cupcakes experiencing the unfamiliar sensation of salivating over the mere thought of food.
Sweets were always something that Lana had made a point of denying herself. Sweets were for fat people. Fat people were lazy greedy pigs. Therefore, sweets were not for her. And yet here she was staring at the dessert table mouth watering and ready to stuff her face full of sugary goodness without even bothering with more traditional dinner fare. She felt like a greedy little piglet just thinking about it, and yet she found her hand hovering over a cupcake.
Were people watching?
No. Not yet at least. As she stood there working her way through the internal conflict of whether or not she should indulge herself with a sinfully delicious cupcake, she suddenly felt as if she was completely invisible, and to her recollection this was the first time she had ever felt that way in her entire life. Lana was used to turning heads, being the center of attention. Even when she wasn’t doing anything but standing there, she was used to eyes on her body.
And yet here she was feeling nothing but the desire to eat a cupcake. She was in a mansion full of party goers and yet she felt completely alone.
That loneliness is what made her finally reach for the cupcake.
It was an impulse, a sudden need, a desire to fill a void. At that moment, it wasn’t just about eating a cupcake. It was about making herself feel better, soothing a sadness she had never felt before with the soothing embrace of sugar.
She put the cupcake to her lips, tasted the frosting on her tongue, and immediately let out a soft whimper of satisfaction.
And then she shoved the rest of the cupcake into her mouth.
Her cheeks filled like a chipmunk and her stomach imperceptibly softened. She should have left right then and there, but Lana couldn’t help herself. She had to have a second, then a third. Lana consumed cupcakes with efficient precision. Her process was rote. She carefully unwrapped a cupcake and laid the wrapper down on the table. Then she ate the cupcake in two bites, using her other hand to catch any crumbs. The crumbs were sprinkled into the wrapper and then the next cupcake was picked up and the process began again until she had a healthy stack of cupcake wrappers which she then carefully carried to the garbage before coming back for more dessert.
Cookies were next, some of those deliciously frosted ones that are entirely too sweet for so many people and almost closer in consistency to a cake than a cookie. These ones were covered in orange frosting with green leaf and pumpkin sprinkles on top, and they went down with the same ruthless efficiency as the cupcakes. She ate four in short order, always over the same plate so as to not leave a mess.
When she thought she was done, Lana walked the plate over to the garbage and tossed it. Then she let out a loud huff and began to pick up several other plates that people had carelessly dropped, probably while drunk, and disposed of those as well.
Lana failed to notice the way her butt cheeks quivered as she went about her business. Those previously toned buns definitely had a lot more bounce to them as she bent over, and they were threatening to push her skirt up just enough to expose them to anyone who happened to be looking.
None the wiser, but certainly a little chubbier, Lana felt her stomach rumble some more, and, without a second thought, she made her way back to the dessert table.
This time it was chocolate she went to town on, piece after piece of chocolate, putting together a meticulous pile of wrappers and leaving nothing behind but the tell tale marks of chocolate at the corner of her lips. This served to draw some attention to how much softer her face had gotten. Her previously angular features were replaced by cherubic cheeks and a slight but permanent double chin. These fatter features combined with the chocolate on her lips gave her the appearance of a chubby, naughty little piglet.
Filled with chocolate and finally content, Lana walked off to try and find Angelica once again. She wasn’t quite waddling, but her chunky thighs definitely had a lot more movement than before, and the flabby flesh was now covered in cellulite.
Lana didn’t really acknowledge it, but her movement was starting to get more difficult, and the party was getting more crowded. She could have given up and tried settling into another social group, but she was determined to find her friend.
It was a decision she would quickly regret.
Angelica had moved on to another group of people, and it took Lana a moment to find them. Once she did she found herself awkwardly standing outside the circle of friends whose conversation continued without missing a beat. Normally, the crowd would have parted for her, and whatever they were talking about would have changed to whatever topic Lana wanted to interject with, either that or compliments about her fabulous body. But now Lana stood quietly on the fringe until Angelica finally happened to notice her with a sideways glance and a wave of her hand.
“Lana, darling, be a dear and fetch me a fresh drink,” she said while handing Lana her cup without even looking at her.
Lana did as she was told, took the cup and fetched Angelica some more punch, failing to notice the way her thighs slapped together with every step.
It wasn’t until Lana handed Angelica the freshened drink that Angelica took the time to really notice Lana, but when she did she began to scrutinize her, scanning her whole body up and down from fat face to sausage toes with her judgemental gaze.
“You’ve really put on quite a bit of weight, dear.”
“Wh-what are you talking about?” asked Lana, aghast and staggered in a way that made every inch of softness on her body jiggle.
“Yes. I mean look at you. I’ve never noticed it before, but you’ve really packed on the pounds. You’re looking not so pleasantly plump.”
“Plump?”
“Plump, dear. Pudgy, chubby, chunky, tubby, dangerously close to being downright fat.”
“She’s looking real close to being a full blown fatty,” chimed in another member of the social circle.
“I’d say she’s a piglet, not a pig… yet,” added yet another, and soon it felt like Lana might be gobbled up by a swarm of piranhas.
She did the only thing she could think to do to defend herself, blanket denial.
“I’m not- not gaining weight. My body is perfect as always. I’m perfect.”
This defense backfired spectacularly. With none of the usual bravado to back up her words or any sign of muscle to give her argument actual strength, all Lana’s words did was elicit a loud round of laughter.
“Darling, you’re far from perfect. You’re bloated. You’re a flabby mess. You’re basically a total fat ass now.”
And now the sharks really started to circle.
“You’re going to be fat. That’s clear.”
“Oh yes. I can see obesity in your future.”
“You’ve really let yourself go.”
“And once those pounds pile on, they’re so hard to get rid of.”
“Especially for someone like you. You’re spoiled, greedy, a greedy little piglet.”
“You don’t have what it takes to go on a diet. That’s how you’ve gotten like this, piglet. And soon you’ll be a full blown hog.”
“It’s inevitable. Right now she’s a little porky, but soon she’ll be a real sow.”
“She’s an oinker either way.”
Sweat began to break on her brow as her nerves threatened to strangle her. She was paralyzed now, unable to respond, and the group took advantage of the situation. Before they were just metaphorical circling, but now they began to physically circle her as well.
“Look at this belly,” snarked Angelica as she pushed her finger into Lana’s squishy stomach.
“So soft. Such a pudgy little pot belly.”
“I can’t wait to see it turn into a spare tire.”
“A mighty muffin top!”
Next, Angelica and another one of her circle pinched Lana’s love handles.
“Look at these love handles. I can pinch an inch!” squealed Angelica with delight.
Lana pulled away and dizzily spun around accidentally giving everyone a real show as the fringe of her skirt fluttered up and her flabby thighs and butt sloshed about. She could no longer keep track of who was saying what, just that the insults kept coming.
“Those thunder thighs are getting thick.”
“She’s going to be waddling about like a pig soon.”
“Look at that blubber butt.”
“Damn, girl. You used to have such a perfect ass. So tight. What happened?”
“The perfect ass broke down into a flabby mess.”
“Better stop sneaking snacks and get back in the gym, girl.”
“It’s too late for that. She’s too far gone. She’s let herself go too much. It’s all downhill from here.”
“She’s just going to get fatter and fatter and fatter.”
“Serves her right, turning into a fatty after being such an arrogant pig her whole life.”
Lana couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to get away. She shoved herself out of the circle, away from the hands that were groping at her fat, and in doing so she tumbled to the floor. On her way down, she knocked into several people and sent their plates and drinks tumbling as well. Her flabby body shook as she hit the ground, and suddenly she didn’t feel invisible anymore. Suddenly it felt like all eyes were on her.
That’s when Mathilde broke through the crowd and saw Lana there on all fours.
She was glad that she hadn’t missed the best part.
Lana looked up in panic and the one person that she locked eyes with was Mathilde.
And that’s when Lana’s body really began to swell.
It started with her butt. Mathilde was looking Lana dead in the eyes, but from where she was she could see the rise of Lana’s skirt as her butt cheeks ballooned. Before, while her previous buns of steel had definitely become heavier with fat they mostly just softened. Now, with whatever was left of her muscle tone completely gone, the only thing Lana’s butt cheeks had left to do was explode in size as adipose filled her previously pert posterior. Her rump humps grew exceptionally lumpy as the last of her muscle was replaced by loose fat, and her flabby butt cheeks started to flap in the wind as the skirt rode up higher and higher. While on all fours, she was giving everyone quite the show. Anyone looking from behind her might very well think she wasn’t wearing any undwear at all because her bulbous butt cheeks swallowed up her thong. Nobody looking at the size of Lana’s chunky cellulite ridden caboose would have thought she was ever fit. Her blubber butt was the wide load of a life long couch potato.
From there the spread spread in two directions.
Lana’s already luscious thighs grew thicker, and as the swelled the undulating fat started to slap togehter until the thick thunder thighs could no longer be separated. Her thighs became cellulite covered tree trunks of quiver flab that pressed together and, even on all fours, forced her stance to widen. If Lana was ever able to actually get up and make a run for it, she would find that that run was limited to a slow ponderous waddle thanks to the massive flabby thighs and the anchor that was her titanic ass.
As her ass rose upward like two loaves of bread baking in an oven, Lana’s belly began to reach for the floor, sinking, sagging as the fat filled it and weighed it down like a heavy sack of spongy flesh. If she was standing, it would be clear that Lana no longer just had an apron for her costume but also had an apron of a belly. It would be laughable to look at Lana at this moment and think that she ever possessed anything close to abs. In a matter of moments she had developed the kind of belly that loudly declared that it had been stuffed on the daily and for years. She possessed the flabby stomach of a life long fatty. It was a ponderous gut so heavy that as Lana attempted to get up, the girth of her growing gut kept pulling her down. Gravity was not her friend as her gluttuonous blubber belly grew more gelatinous.
Gravity was further aided by the size of Lana’s growing breasts. Her bosom ballooned with blubber giving her a rather pendulous chest, and as she struggled on all fours, her stretch mark covered breasts hung like udders. The fleshy funbags were barely contained by her uniform, and they were not the only party of her body that grew extremely fat and flabby.
Lana’s arms lost any tone that they had left, developing flabby bingo wings, bicep fat that began to spill over elbow. Her pillowly arms were like two ham hocks. As she crawled about while the crowd laughed at her, the only respite was that the crawling got a little easier as her hands became more padded. Her slender fingers became like fat sausages as her previously dainty hands grew fatter.
Finally, gravity pulled at Lana’s chin and teased it into a doughy second one that wobbled about as she whipped her head back and forth looking around the room in a panic. Her cheeks became chubby as she developed jiggly jowls, and her face became so fat that her eyes began to look beady and dull with confusion. Lana didn’t know what to do. She didn’t even know how to begin thinking about what to do. She was stuck like a pig in headlights as the partygoers gathered around and laughed at her.
“What a sad sack.”
“Fat sack more like it.”
“She’s a cow.”
“A whale.”
“I can’t believe she let herself go this much.”
“I can, and I love it.”
“What a big fat fatty! Shake it for us, fatty!”
“You deserve this, Fatso!”
“You’re a tub of lard!”
Mathilde watched with a smile as Lana struggled and the crowd jeered. Then Mathilde saw her.
Marcella Weatherfall pushed through the crowd.
Looking over at Marcella, Mathilde had expected to see a look of pure triumph, unadultarated joy, the sinful smile from schadenfreude. But instead all she saw was a look of concern and - dare she say it - compassion.
That look of compassion on Marcella’s face is what made Mathilde step in front of her.
“What are you doing?”
“Look at her. Look at what everyone’s doing. I have to put a stop to this.”
“Are you kidding me? She’s made fun of fat girls like us her whole life. She deserves this.”
“Nobody deserves to be treated like this.”
Marcella stepped past Mathilde and toward Lana ready to call an end to this whole thing and save her from further humiliation.
That’s when Mathilde grabbed her by the arm, spun Marcella around, and blew every bit of glitter that she had left right in her face.
With one hand clasped behind Marcella’s head and the other one still grasping her wrist, Mathilde physically forced Marcella to look her dead in the eyes as she spoke.
“She deserves this. She deserves to be humiliated. You want that. She is nothing now, nothing more than your maid to humiliate and torment to your heart’s content. She’s not worthy of respect or compassion, she is a joke here to amuse you, to amuse all your guests. Punish her.”
Mathilde gasped as she let Marcella go. She could feel her head spinning and when she looked down she could see a dark purple vein running along the back of her hand. She could feel it, the power, the shift in the magic that she had brought about. It was like she had take a river in her hands and redirected its flow, and it was all she could do to stop from falling over and slipping into unconciousness. She staggered forward, and by the time she was able to look back up, Marcella was already standing over Lana.
“You greedy pig, this is what you get,” Marcella growled with a grin on her face.
Then she reached down and grabbed as much of the side of Lana’s gut that she could manage with one hand. The fat oozed through her fingers as she gave it a hard shake.
“You gave us all so much shit, and now look at you, you bloated cow, you absolute tub of lard, you big fat blubbery mess. You’ve lost everything and all you’ve gained is this blubber belly and the rest of the fat to go with it. How does this feel?”
Lana tilted her head upward and began to cry, but she couldn’t only respond with blunt honesty.
“Zis is horr-ee-bleh.”
Lana’s chubby hand shot to her fat mouth at the sound of her new accent.
“Zis is terrible. My voice should not sound like zat. What is zis?”
He ignorance was met with nothing other than a smack to her wide rump.
“This is your new life, and now that you’re my piggy to do with as I please. I want you to clean up this mess.”
The terrified Lana immediately capitulated. Her double chin wobbling as she nodded.”
“Yes, Mistress. Zee floor is so dirty. I will clean zis mess, whatever you zay.”
And with that, still crawling on all fours, Lana pulled out a rag that she didn’t remember having and began to scrub zee floor.
Mathilde couldn’t help but get in one last parting shot.
She walked over and pinched one of Lana’s cellulite covered thunder thighs enough to make her yelp. Then she danced her fingers along Lana’s fat back and rubbed the back of her thick neck. She bent down and whispered in Lana’s ear as she pinched her chubby cheek.
“You’re fatter than me, fatter than Marcella, fatter than anyone you’ve ever made fun of I imagine. That’s good. You deserve this. You deserve your new life as a humiliated servant, and I’ll sleep well tonight knowing I got to turn you into this. Friendly reminder, dear, you’re a fat trashy loser, an absolute pig with zero prospects. You’re a fat lazy cow who has neither the aptitude nor the drive to ever rise above this station, and you will work this dreary, mind-numbing deadend job, spending the rest of your fat miserable life scrubbing floors and toilets because you were born to be a fat girl. Your old glamorous life, the future you thought you would have, it was a lie, a cruel lie. You were always meant to be a fatty serving others. This is where you belong, on all fours, fat for now and forever. Have a nice day, you fat clod.”
Mathilde gave Lana’s blubbery belly one final shake and then left the fat french maid behind her. This night had gone better than expected, better than she had ever dreamed of it going. There was the belly dancer, a vain woman now with a great big bloated belly hanging out there for all to see, the sexy fox put right on the road to obesity, and the Glinda the fat witch whose secret girlde she had exposed and whose already secretly chubby body she had made undeniably fat. And then of course there was Lana, vain dominant Lana reduced to a fat dumb serving girl, forever a flabulous servent.
Although a bit light headed from the expenditure of magic, Mathilde was over the moon. Still, her blood sugar was feeling rather low, and she had earned herself a little treat.
Without looking, Mathilde fished a random piece out of the dish and popped it into her mouth. As she did so, she looked over and happened to notice that Angelica had happened to pick out the same kind of candy. She saw the wrapper in Angelica’s hand…
It was the kind that had been wrapped around the pieces of candy her cousin had given her.
Mathilde could taste the familiar sensation of butterscotch on her tongue as her eyes went wide with hunger.
