James Duke
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Piper Aspin On the Case: Potter's Pointe
🕑 Added 2023-09-29 03:07:58 +0000 UTCTags: Implied XWG, USSBBW, size difference, very light teasing
The week of content continues! Hope you enjoy this little cutie of a story!
"Hello, I’m Piper Aspin. Have YOU considered where your water is coming from?” The platinum haired blonde said as she walked through the streets of the little suburb. Her black heels clacked across the pavement. She wore a metallic blue pantsuit. It was shiny and eye-catching, the perfect thing for daytime television. Her whole attitude and look had been crafted to hook and reel unsuspecting people in. Executives and marketing specialists had put their heads together for hours in order to mold an image that would sell the message she had been paid handsomely to deliver. “Better yet, have YOU considered what might be lurking in your water?” She asked the question with the same faux-concerned tone that had been perfected by televangelists and adopted by product marketers. “Forever chemicals, hormones, and other contaminants from big corporations appear in bigger concentrations than ever before, and they are changing your body.” She walked backwards down the street, masterfully directing the viewer’s attention to the row of well tended houses.
At first glance, the houses of the neighborhood seemed completely normal. It was a little slice of suburban paradise. The kind of place that boasted four star schools, mom and pop shops, and perennial cookouts and neighborhood events. However, something lurked within the neighborhood. Something large and more than a little insidious. “I’m here at Potter’s Pointe. It may look normal, but I would invite YOU the viewer to take a closer look.” She raised her hand, guiding the viewer down the line of houses.
The normalcy of the neighborhood started to fade upon closer inspection. Little design choices held much greater implications. Doors were subtly larger, stretched in width. Garages were bigger, boasting space for multiple SUVs. There were also a disproportionate amount of cars that had mobility enhancements, like ramps, installed within them. Most front doors held signs about food deliveries and even orders themselves. The subconscious was tickled by these and other signs, but it took Piper’s words to sharpen the mental image. “Beginning to notice something?” Piper returned to center view in the camera, holding the mic in a somber and sorrowful manner. “Potter’s Pointe has a BIG problem, but it's not their fault.” To help make her point, Piper walked up to a preselected house.
“Let’s talk to a random homeowner within the neighborhood.” She knocked at the door and waited. Piper stood, tapping her heel and checking her watch to make the time elapse more noticeable. Signs of occupants began to appear. Finely tuned audio equipment was able to pick up thudding footsteps, wheezing, and the loud creaking of footsteps. Piper added the appropriate responses to each, finding little ways to enhance and play up what the viewers were hearing. A large shadow lumbered past a window, taking a noticeably long time to move past. Piper inclined her head, making sure that the cameras caught the movement of the owner. When the crew focused in on the boulder-like shape in the window, the reporter shook her head solemnly, trying to prime the audience for sympathy. She visibly reverted to a neutral expression as the door was pulled open. The wider-than-average door was pulled back slowly, revealing a truly massive woman behind it.
She was young, in her early 20’s. She was of hispanic descent, with dark black hair that fell naturally into short but luxurious curls. She had several piercings on either ear, all golden with diamond studs and a small nose ring. She filled the door with her width, bigger even than the already expanded frame. On her face was a large scowl, her chins compressing into one large fold of fat. Piper’s 110 pounds looked even smaller when compared to the woman which stood in front of her. The comparison was furthered by Piper putting her hand forward. It seemed so small in comparison to the younger woman’s hands, fat enough to look like hog hooves.
“Hello, Miss, my name is Piper Aspin. Could I borrow a moment of your time?” Piper asked with all the confidence of a woman who knew what the answer would be.
“BBBBLLLURRRUUP. . .yeah. . .that’s fine.” The woman’s fat shook as she let loose a terrific belch. Piper’s blonde hair was blown back as it rolled over her like a thunder cloud. The large woman then stuck out her fat hand. Her wrist had been completely swallowed by bulk, making her arm look inflated. She was dressed casually, it had been heavily suggested to not dress up for the interview. The woman’s tanned skin was contained by a pair of oversized yet skin tight gray sweatpants. Her prodigious gut had been tucked into the stony colored fabric but still bubbled out over the top. She wore a cut off, crop top hoodie which further exposed her fat to the audience. Chub and pudge further brimmed from the many little holes that had been worn into the hoodie. “I’m Moonsong Abayo.” She said before belching once more. It was a competition as to whether her arm rolls or breasts shook more through the handshake. Piper gave a vigorous shake, doing everything she could to make the rotund woman’s body jiggle.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Abayo. Could I ask you to step out here so the cameras could see you more?” Piper tugged on Moonsong in order to help guide her to the correct decision.
‘Yeah. . .fine.” The Native-Hispanic woman said before starting to waddle out of the house. She turned sideways, giving the audience a perfect view of an ass that had split more than its fair share of pants. Moonsong’s butt was so large and bubbly that it seemed to float just as much as it sagged. The generous amounts of ass flab were high backed; the kind of booty that made any shirt ride up. “Gimme a. . .uuuggh. . .second.” She started to push through the door, every possible bit of fat that could catch on the frame did so. The small crop top she wore rode up, exposing breasts bigger than most people’s heads. Likewise, Moonsong’s pants were pulled down by the trip through the door. A gigantic, soft asscrack made itself known. The slapping of her asscheeks were abrupt, jiggles cut short by the frame of the door. The camera crew noted that they would have to blur the footage, given the obese woman’s accidental exposure. Moonsong did not react, such occurrences of wardrobe malfunction were abysmally commonplace.
“Now, Miss Abayo, how much do you weigh? If you don’t mind me asking.” Piper looked at the cameras, sad face already threatening to appear.
“Six. . .no. . .Eight hundred and thirty pounds.” Moonsong pushed the words out, having almost forgotten her most recent weigh in. Though, any amount over 700 began to look indistinct. She was simply massive, a sprawling example of early 20’s obesity. She managed to force her tonnage through the door, standing before Piper as a curvaceous boulder.
“And, I’m sorry for asking, were you always this weight?” Piper asked.
“Uh. . .no.” Moonsong grumbled, not enjoying being reminded of her current mass.
“And, do you have any proof of that, Miss Abayo?” Piper asked, excitement running through her. It was all going so well.
Moonsong grumbled again, starting to fish through her cleavage and waistband of her pants in order to find her phone. Piper seized the opportunity. “While we are waiting for Miss Abayo’s proof, I wanted to tell you more about what you are seeing here.” Piper spread her arms, Moonsong’s immense body framed behind her. “This is chemical warfare, poison sweeping through our nation’s waterways and fattening the youth.” Piper directed the camera to point in a different direction, in the distance it was able to pick up a flowing river and a factory beyond that. “Apollo Chemicals opened a factory here nearly 5 years ago and the runoff has been doing damage ever since. Hyper-obesity, constant cravings, irritable mood, and other symptoms have been found around here.” Slowly the tiny blonde walked back around, putting Moonsong back in focus. The young woman had found her phone, but was trying to pull her pants up over her gut again. Her bean bag chair stomach flopped up and down. Piper made a low, sad sound before speaking again. “The results have been devastating to communities.”
“Here.” Satisfied with tucking her flab back in, Moonsong opened her phone and clicked on a pre-selected photo. She held it first to Piper and then to the camera. It was her at the end of college. A bright eyed, slim cheerleader smiled at the camera. It was almost too hard to believe that Moonsong had once been so trim and athletic. The woman who held the phone was hardly capable of standing for the entire interview. “I was 120 pounds here.” She sighed, ready to bury her shame in more food.
“A tragedy of the highest caliber.” Piper shook her head with practiced shame. “I’m sure that the grieving souls watching this broadcast are willing to help you anyway they could.” Piper hesitated, trying to keep herself from looking too excited. “Before we get into that, I will need to do one final thing to prove your story.” Her hands flexed, twitching with anxiousness.
“That’s. . .fine. . .anything to. . .UUUOOORRUUP. . .be taken seriously.” Moonsong belched, the black curls on her head bouncing as she adjusted her weight.
“Indeed.” Piper said, reaching her arms forward. “I need to show the audience that you aren’t wearing a fat suit or any type of prosthetic.” The camera zoomed in, catching the very moment that Piper’s well manicured nails grasped Moonsong’s flab. She kneaded and pulled at the gigantic gut, putting her thumb in the obese latina’s belly button even. “It’s. ..uhm. . .quite plush.” A goofy, erotic smile played over Piper’s face as she lifted and tugged. She drew the tanned beast from its lair. The sagging mountain of fat flopped down onto thighs four or five times thicker than Piper’s waist. The former cheerleader finally grumbled, signaling to Piper to stop. The slap from Moonsong’s gut landing was broadcast to homes across America. “Well. . .ahem. . .I’m sure our viewers need no further proof.”
“BBLLOOOORRRUUUP!” Moonsong belched, adding her own touch to the broadcast. She had been promised a hefty sum for her appearance in this sham PSA. While what was happening to her community was a tragedy, she was not above profiting off of it. A promising modeling career had been cut short, replaced instead with constant eating and unrelenting weight gain. A girl had to get ahead somehow. “It’s. . .a. . .constant. .. struggle. . .LLLOORRRUUUP.” Moonsong belched again, putting a hand to her stomach.
“Absolutely. Thank you, Miss Abayo.” Piper started to walk away from her interview subject. “Now, over the next hour you will see exactly what is taking place here and other towns over the U.S. '' Piper walked with a confident stride, putting quick distance between her and Moonsong. “We ask you to listen intently. . .and have your checkbooks ready for support.” Piper smiled, thinking of the money that was about to roll in. She was proud of her journalistic sense and skill. She had learned the first rule of journalism well: never let a tragedy go to waste.
Comments
James Duke
Thank you!! I'm thinking that Moonsong might become an OC like Susette that people can use for Prompts and comms. It was fun writing her 😁
Thiscantbereal
I like Moonsong! She's cute in a grumpy kind of way. Your descriptions of her were really good.
