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"The Fat French Maid Costume" Part 1
🕑 Added 2024-09-26 14:05:32 +0000 UTCHere is the first 4,000 words of the latest tale from Katrina's Costume Closet.
Enjoy!
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Mathilde stared at the belly dancer’s belly and smirked.
“Wow. You really got a big gut there, huh?”
“Look at this!” the woman in the belly dancer costume screamed as her chubby hands grasped at the lower roll of her belly and gave it a hard shake for Mathilde to see.
“Yeah. Can’t miss it. Like I said, big gut.”
“You have to do something about this!”
“I did. I sold you the costume that gave you that big gut, and everything else.”
The belly dancer’s blubbery belly was certainly her most prominent feature, but Mathilde was right to point out that the rest of her was quite fat as well, the slender woman that had entered the costume shop now had far more pounds packed onto her previously petite frame. She had thick thunder thighs that rubbed together, flabby bingo wings for arms, great big sagging breasts, a flabby ass sure to bounce just as much if not even more than her belly with every lumbering step she took.
Mathilde had to fight the urge to bite her lower lip in front of the woman whose bulging gut and matching love handles now formed a meaty muffin top where her trim waist and abs had once been. She loved watching this woman, whose life must have been so easy because of her pretty privilege struggling with a fat and sexy body that the woman detested because of her own long held prejudices. It was amusing to watch her decry this new thickness, pinching at it and shaking it in fruitless fury.
“This is outrageous!”
“What’s outrageous is that you thought you could get away with such flagrant cultural appropriation. Not surprising though. You’re not the first skinny girl to come in here and want to be dressed as a belly dancer for Halloween, but now you’re paying the price- literally. I need your card.”
The blubbery belly dancer blubbered as she pawed at the pasty flesh of her flabby belly.
“I…. I just wanted to be a sexy belly dancer for Halloween.”
“And I just wanted to see a vain woman blow up into the kind of full blown fatty she’s used to making fun of. Technically, we’ve both gotten what we wanted. Now pay up and get out.”
The blubbering belly dancer held out her card with her chubby hand, and Mathilde was happy to snatch it from between her sausage fingers and swipe the card, taking a hefty commission for making the woman so hefty. As the belly dancer waddled off, Mathilde couldn’t help but shout after her.
“Remember. Culture is not a costume!”
Was being a belly dancer really a cultural thing? Mathilde didn’t know for sure, but it was fun to pretend to be woke while also taking an active role in the ruining of so many lives. There was nothing like claiming the moral high ground while forcibly fattening people, and a little bit of needless virtue signaling really added some spice to the mix.
It really was such a thrill taking vain people down, especially taking women who society considered to be slim and sexy and stereotypically gorgeous, just like Mathilde had once been, and making them feel so low, even if Mathilde thought all the fat made their bodies even hotter. More than anything, it was the control that Mathilde felt that made her go so wild, the power that she felt taking the control away from people who had grown far too comfortable for their own good. And now? Well now those people were just grown, grown big and fat and juicy.
Mathilde rested her chubby hands on her own big belly in satisfaction and let out a low moan. Her hands were pinching her fat thighs when the bells at the door rang to signal another customer walking in.
Lana was a stereotypical rich bitch. She had the classic “born to money and thinks she’s better than everyone because of it” air about her. It was felt with every commanding step she took and every judgmental look she gave. She was not afraid to flaunt her body and turn up her nose to anyone she felt didn’t measure up to her standards of perfection which was most everybody. In fact, she did more than just that. Lana loved to actively demean and diminish people for sport.
That was why she was here. Slumming it in the mall was something she liked to occasionally do because it was such a thrill to show off her hot body in needlessly fancy designer outfits while walking around and surveying poor people like she was watching animals in a zoo. She found poor people to be generally disgusting, and she thought of most of them as simply being fat and lazy, and fat people especially were especially abhorrent to her, the poor ones were needlessly greedy and to focused on stuffing their fat faces with junk food to actually do anything worthwhile with their lives, and even the rich ones were too lazy to do anything about their fat and disgusting blubber bodies. In Lana’s mind, fat people with their bulbous bodies were ripe for making fun of. And she wasn’t outright calling them pigs and all sorts of other demeaning names, Lana loved to do it by flaunting the differences between their fat figures and her own fit and trim one.
Lana was needlessly dressed to the nines for just this occasion with a figure hugging dress that showed off every one of generous but perfectly toned curves. It showcased her long and lean runners’ thighs and her pert and perky butt. If one looked carefully enough, which Lana’s body and designer dress definitely encouraged, one could even see the faint outline of her abs. Her breasts were of the perfect size and just as perky as her butt, and she wore a short jacket to ward off the slight chill of the fall air. It ended at her tiny waist and was cut in a way to showcase the trim and toned nature of her slender arms, arms which ended in delicate piano fingers. Her face was angelic and perfectly made up as was her brilliantly lustrous hair. Everything about Lana was perfect down to her meticulously manicured nails and her perfectly straight and pretty pearly white teeth.
Because Lana never had to work a day in her life, she had a lot of time to put into developing her perfect look, and it showed. She was a beauty queen with a confident strut to match her looks and give her all the more power when she turned her judgmental gaze on others.
Before visiting Katrina’s Costume Collection, Lana had made a pass through the food court, not because she wanted to eat something but because she found it was the best place to observe human hogs in their natural habitat. She found two particularly mess fat girls and really decided to unload on them.
“You cows are disgusting. I mean that, truly. Look at yourselves? You’re eating like pigs and making such a mess. Are you even going to clean it up, or are you content to act like you were raised in a barn? Maybe at home you can feel free to wallow in your filth like the hog queens that you are, but out here try to have at least a little bit of class, a little bit of dignity. Although, really how much can the world expect from such lowly, slovenly, fat creatures such as yourselves. You’re really only good for stuffing your faces and serving others aren’t you, piggies? Yes. I think lives of service must definitely be calling you, you look so fat and poor and low. Where do you work? Retail? Fast Food? Perhaps even as a pair of fat maids. Whatever it is I’m sure it’s disgusting and humiliating and exactly what your fat, lazy, greedy asses deserve. You disgust me. You truly do.”
The fat women started crying as Lana grabbed them by the arms and shook them a bit.
“Just look at how much you jiggle. Your whole bodies are like jello. It’s so much fat! Too much fat! You should be ashamed, truly truly ashamed. This is pathetic. But then again, that’s why people like me are born to be superiors and people like you are born to be fat servants. Enjoy the rest of your meal, piggies. I’d tell you to take care of yourselves, but we all know that won’t happen. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of room to stuff yourselves with a whole gallon of ice cream after this.”
And after that she used both hands to squeeze the fat girls’ big bellies and left them sobbing into their food. She had really let them have it.
Now she was heading Mathilde’s way.
Mathilde, even though she didn’t know her name yet, could sense all of this about Lana from the moment she walked through the door, and the thought of taking this vain and privileged woman who had spent her whole life judging others into a soft, weak, waddling fatty forced to face the same kind of scorn and humiliation she had spent so much time heaping onto others. She wanted to be personally responsible for turning Lana’s proud abs into a portly pot belly, of turning her toned ass cheeks into turgid masses of fat. It would be such a joy to blow this bitch up like a balloon and turn her into a blubbery ball of fat bulging out and ripping through her designer clothes. She wanted to turn this woman into a fat pig, an absolute cow, a-
“Jeez, they’ll just let anyone work in retail I suppose.”
Mathilde’s daydreaming was cut-off by Lana’s curt words and the tapping of her perfectly manicured fingernails against the glass countertop.
“I’m sorry?” Mathilde asked as she pulled herself back to reality.
“You’re a bloated cow with tacky goth fashion sense, and they seriously let you sell clothing to others? I mean look at you. You’re disgustingly fat, lazily sitting behind this counter in a style nightmare of an outfit that barely contains all of your blubber.”
“Oof. Tell me how you really feel.”
Mathilde had muttered that last statement under her breath, a reflex to Lana’s bullying and not meant to be heard, but Lana did hear it and took it as a challenge.
“Okay, Fat people like you ought to be ashamed of themselves. You’re hear wasting your life and likely complaining about rich and beautiful people like me all because you’ve dug yourself a hole in life that you’re far too fat and lazy to climb yourself out of. You're shameless in your sloth, greed, and gluttony, and you will always be a fat, lazy retail worker because you like the skills and ambition to do anything else. You’ve got a belly full of blubber, a wide load for an ass, thunder thighs that make you waddle and a fat face that looks positively piggish. If you’re not already an embarrassment to your family, you certainly should be. Your fat ass is disgusting and only good for serving your betters, especially people like me.”
Mathilde just squinted her eyes, focusing her gaze as a means of tempering her anger, waiting and knowing that this woman’s fattening transformation would be all the sweeter in the end.
“Miss, are you going to buy a costume or not?”
“Ah yes, a costume. I do need one, and I suppose your fat ass might actually know something about costumes judging by your garish corset as a top paired with hideously chunky combat boots and far too much makeup, especially eye-liner. I mean, really dear. Put black lipstick on a pig, and it’s still a pig. You’re not fooling anyone.”
“Wow,” thought internally.
Externally, all Mathilde did was give Lana a small smile and her best customer service voice.
“Anyway, miss. If you follow me, I’m sure we’ll be able to find you the perfect fit.”
And then she led Lana back toward the costume racks. Mathilde had dealt with some real awful customers, but seldom had any treated her as aggressively poorly as Lana, and she was determined to make this transformation extra personal.
In some circles that Mathilde occasionally hung around in, they liked to talk about eating the rich, but Mathilde much preferred to make the rich eat.
Mathilde thought long and hard about what kind of costume Lana should wear. Which would be the best for facilitating her downfall? Should she go the food route? She enjoyed the idea of turning Lana into a big fat sexy pumpkin like she had done before. Maybe this was the time she finally pulled the blueberry ripcord and blew her up like she was right out of the world of Willy Wonka? No. No. That might prove too comical, too fantastic. It would certainly be too quick. Lana deserved something worse. Her punishment must be more fulsome, more lingering.
Perhaps animal costumes then? She could make her a fat lazy cat or her personal favorite, a sexy piggy. That would be a fun little retread, to blow up Lana like a balloon with a big jiggling belly and have her waddling about as a fat greedy slob, a gluttonous mess for all to see. She’d love to see the prim and proper Lana be a big fat pig making a humiliating mess of herself and putting on a gluttonous show for others. But Mathilde was also loath to repeat herself, and there were so many more perfectly suitable costumes for Lana to try out. Perhaps she could keep on the animal route and go with a cow costume. That would certainly be fun. She knew Lana loved to call people cows, so it would be a delicious bit of irony to turn her into one.
But no. Those still weren’t fitting enough. Mathilde felt the magic pull her with more definitiveness now toward something that her heart told her would be a much more fitting punishment. She had learned it was best to trust the magic at this point, and she closed her eyes and ran her fingers along the costumes until she sensed the magic telling her to stop.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself holding the perfect costume.
Lana had never worked a day in the life, and always had others do her bidding. She was always ordering others about even when she wasn’t just judging them for their size. What would be more fitting than to bring her much needed humility and turn her from a rich bitch boss to someone who must serve others while also looking exactly like the kind of people she always made fun of.
She would make the perfect fat French maid.
With glee, Mathilde held out the costume toward Lana.
“What about this one?”
Lana’s eyes opened wide, and her smile stretched into a devious grin.
“Oh yes, it’s perfect. So delightfully different from who I actually him, deliciously ironic and yet so ideal for showcasing my gorgeous figure and really turning heads. I’ll give that a try.”
And without another word, Lana snatched the bag from Mathilde’s hands and headed into the dressing room.
This, of course, left Mathilde alone with her imagination.
Mathilde imagined Lana’s transformation starting down low. She wanted to bing Lana low so that’s where it made the most sense to start. She wanted Lana’s fattening to start with her feet, her dainty, delicate feet.
She imagined Lana’s feet swelling with fat, growing wider, and even longer, bigger feet, fatter feet, fit that burst her fancy high heels and forced her to stumble and feel the cold hard ground. In her mind she watched Lana’s feet become fat and calloused with tubby toes like mini Vienna sausages. Those dainty feet were now big fat clodhoppers fit only for extra wide sneakers at best, nothing remotely stylish, not any more for her big fat feet. And after her feet grew bloated with fat, the rest of her legs were sure to follow.
The fat started to flow from Lana’s feet up her legs. Her ankles grew thick and swollen with fat until those chubby ankles fused with calves that were also filling with fat until they formed bloated cankles, like heavy weights of fat already starting to make walking more of a challenge as Lana stumbled about the dressing room in a panic unable to stop the changes that were happening to her, helpless to control the fat that was flowing up her body.
And that fat filled her thigh next, took those toned limbs and turned them into tree trunks, Lana’s lean legs quickly grew with thick thunder thighs where the fat slapped and then rubbed together. Her thighs were canvassed by cellulite. She would be a runner no more, no longer even capable of walking normally much less strutting around like she owned the place. The fat filling her thighs was enough to ensure a permanent awkward waddle. And those thighs grew in all directions, developing flabby saddlebags and even fat that drooped over her fat knees. But the fat that filled her legs didn’t stop there. It kept flowing upward.
It was time to ruin her perfectly pert and perky butt.
That butt began to bubble, growing pockmarks of cellulite as her perky butt cheeks deflated and then began to balloon again but with fat. Her formerly toned buns began to blow up and sag turning into flabby bags of fat that slapped down onto the backs of her thick thunder thighs. There was no muscle left in them, just jiggly fat, plenty of cushion for the pushin’, but definitely not anything Lana would be proud of anymore.
The fat kept working its way up and ruined Lana’s perfect abs next. Her trim waist expanded, stretching the fabric of her maid’s uniform to its limit as she developed a large pot belly. What started as just a small starter belly quickly bloomed into a serious tanker and then continued growing into a full blown spare tire. Even in the uniform it was clear that her belly developed a deep split and grew into an apron of fat, a sagging double belly still growing with no sign of stopping. She gained a meaty pair of love handles as well, thick slabs of fat that gave her middle a much more barrel shape.
Lana’s breasts soon sagged onto her shelf of a belly. They had grown quite a bit but were mostly just soft and squishy and so outpaced by her growing gut that it was hard to tell that they were much larger. Now they were squishy marshmallows sitting uselessly on her gut.
At her sides rested fattened arms, thick pillows of fat replaced the muscle in her biceps which turned her toned arms into plump limbs with flabby bingo wings, enough fat on them to roll over her elbows. Lana’s arms ended with bloated wrists and chubby hands with fat fingers. No more fancy rings for her. Her fingers were now far too fat for them.
Finally, her face was bloated and piggish with jiggly jowls and a doughy double chin. Gone was the look of confidence, of dominance, replaced with a dully witted look of subservience. Lana had a dull piggish face with sad beady eyes that signaled the deepest truth of her transformation. She was nothing more than an obedient fat girl now.
And when she came waddling out of the dressing room, Mathilde was ready to take full advantage of it.
“Well, look at you, Miss Glamorous, Miss Slim and Sexy. Now you’re Miss Piggy, Miss Big Fat Serving Girl.”
Mathilde sauntered over and grabbed Lana by her squishy stomach.
“Quite the belly you’ve got there, such a sexy squishable gut. Look at how big it is, how heavy. This is a real sack of fat. And you’ve got a real fat dumper on the other end to balance it out.”
SMACK!
Mathilde laughed as she gave Lana’s fat ass a hard spank.
SMACK!
Another.
SMACK!
And another.
“Now let’s see what a good obedient fat girl you are. Get on all fours, pig.”
Lana did as she was told, lowering her fat body to her fat hands and knees with her blubbery belly hanging low enough to gently graze the cold ground cause Mathilde to laugh once again as she leaned down to give it another shake before spanking her wide rump yet again. She loves watching the fat undulate with every hard smack she delivers.
“Lots of jiggle there, fatty. Gotta love it. I bet all the spanking doesn’t even hurt though cause you’ve got all that padding. Let me test that theory.”
SMACK!
“Hee. Hee. What a good fatty you are. Now start cleaning the floor like the fat maid you are.”
Lana have a nod that sent her double chin wobbling and then began to scrub the floor with a rag. With every stroke, her entire body shook, fat was flying everywhere, and all Mathilde did was laugh and laugh.
“That’s right. This is where you deserve to be, on all fours like a pig, scrubbing floors and cleaning toilets. This is your new life, Fatso. This-”
Is when the dressing room door opened and Lana actually stepped out.
“It’s perfect,” she exclaimed.
And she was correct.
The French maid costume fit Lana perfectly and made a particular showcase of her long toned thighs with a skirt cut so short that it ended just shy of the bottom of her toned butt cheeks. It gave enough of a hint of what was there to be a glorious tease while still maintaining Lana’s dignity. The top of the maid costume cinched to show off her trim waist and was also cut in a way to highlight her perfect breasts. To put it simply, Lana looked dazzling.
And it pissed Mathilde off.
Mathilde clinched her fists and grit her teeth as Lana stood there, twirling and showing off. It was all she could do to not scream until-
“What are you waiting for, you dumb cow? Get your fat ass moving and ready to ring me up.”
Reluctantly, Mathilde waddled off to the counter while Lana went back and changed. There was a heavy slump in Mathilde’s shoulders. She knew Lana was doomed to end up transforming into a fat maid receiving her karmic comeuppance and being stuck living the life of a fat servant. And there had been and would be plenty of times where she didn’t get to see the changes happening and would have to settle for her very active imagination. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was somehow more personal. Of all the customers she had served, she wanted to be witness to Lana’s downfall most of all.
“Marcella Weatherfall is going to shit when I show up to her party tonight in this costume and immediately take all of the attention away from her.” exclaimed Lana as she set the costume down on the counter and handed over her credit card, snapping her fingers for Mathilde to finish this transaction quickly.
With costume and credit card in hand, Lana couldn’t stop herself from taking one last parting shot at the fat goth woman who had served her.
“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 dead end job until only shopping finally puts this whole place out of business, and then you’ll probably spend the rest of your fat miserable life scrubbing floors or something. Have a nice day, you fat clod.”
Then Lana smiled as if she and Mathilde were old friends and left.
Mathilde’s blood was left boiling. What an exceptionally rude, entirely unnecessary, hurtful thing. That bitch, that cruel, spoiled, vain, spiteful bitch. She had to pay and Mathilde had to be a part in it. This didn’t just feel personal anymore. It was personal!
“Marcella Weatherfall,” she thought.
That was enough of a clue. With magic and Google, Mathilde could piece together exactly where Lana would be tonight.
In a huff and a hurry, she called out to her manager.
“Gwen, I’m going to need you to cover my shift tonight. I have a party to go to!”
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If you enjoyed part 1, a teaser for part 2 is already on my Discord and available to all "Talking BS" patreon patrons.
