Like Mother, Like Daughters (15) (Patreon)

It wasn’t yet 3:00 p.m. on Thanksgiving Day and Minnie was already three beers deep. She was leaning against the kitchen island, watching her mother, two aunts, Claire, and a couple cousins rush around the kitchen trying to finish cooking a Thanksgiving dinner that was bound to be late. Or, try to rush. While the kitchen was spacious enough for Momma when she was on her own, the addition of Claire at her post-cruise, well-stuffed college senior weight—not to mention the gaggle of much thinner female relatives—meant everyone was constantly squeezing past and bumping into each other. They’d all been in the kitchen for hours, and the cramped quarters and holiday stress were making everyone cranky.

Which was exactly why Minnie was only watching, and about to crack open her fourth beer.

The holiday had been a little tense from the start. Since she lived in the same town, Minnie had only shown up late that morning after her opening shift at the store (because who was gonna say no to time and a half pay?), but Claire and Veronica had been at their parents’ house for days. From what Minnie had gathered, the vibe had been that of an uneasy truce. Her sisters had never quite made up before the end of their cruise, merely papering things over before getting back to their respective lives, and were mostly avoiding each other.

Minnie drifted to the living room, where Veronica was sitting with their dad, several uncles, and the rest of the cousins. Veronica seemed like she was doing her best to keep herself squished against a corner of the couch and make herself smaller, but her ass was still spilling over onto the cushion next to her. Minnie also couldn’t help but notice that Veronica had tried to wear something slimming, but the thick black turtleneck couldn’t hide the squishy double belly resting on her lap, or her chubby face. Minnie could also tell that the stomach rumbles she was hearing were almost entirely from her blimped-up sister’s gut. Nic had said she would be fasting the day before Thanksgiving and wouldn’t eat at all until dinner was on the table—something about wanting to “save up” her calories—and while she’d somehow avoided temptation for over 24 hours, she didn’t look happy about it.

Minnie took a sip of her beer as she squeezed onto the couch next to her big sister. She felt lucky that she’d wound up with a better metabolism than her siblings. She wasn’t in complete denial that she’d put on a little bit of weight—her clothes had definitely fit different after the cruise, which she figured was pretty normal. But while Veronica and Claire looked more like their butterball mom with each passing day, Minnie had continued to enjoy the blessings of a bounteous rack. She wasn’t even sure exactly what her bra size was anymore and knew she’d have to get fitted again soon; her current bra (a double-Hcup, she would proudly tell you) currently wasn’t cutting it, the cups digging into her tits and causing them to muffin outward beneath her shirt. Minnie had chalked up her increased bust to some extra snacking on the cruise, plus a dash of second puberty.

Nevermind that she’d gone up more than a few pant sizes and had a respectable, plush potbelly hiding beneath her boobs (not that she even really knew about the potbelly, given she couldn’t see it past her chest without looking in a mirror, which she rarely did). Minnie knew, with all certainty, she was basically still as skinny as she was in high school, and that she looked better than ever when compared to her porker sisters. And she could still drink and eat whatever she liked! Truly something to be thankful for.

Minnie tipped her head back and chugged the last of her beer, letting out a belch as she finished. “’Scuse me!” she laughed. She nudged Veronica beside her and said, slightly conspiratorially, “So, how’s the fasting going?”

Veronica turned toward her and pulled a face. “Wonderful. I haven’t eaten anything since Tuesday.”

“Good for you! That must suck.”

Veronica grimaced, then tried to hide it with a smile. “Not at all—god knows my stomach could use a fast every once in a while.” She pulled down her turtleneck as if to hide the stomach in question, which promptly grumbled again, loudly enough that she blushed in embarrassment.

“Do you at least want a drink or something? I was gonna get myself another beer anyway.”

“I’m fine, I’ve got water. And… do you really need another beer?” Veronica gave her sister a once-over, which rubbed Minnie the exact wrong way.

“I’m not the one trying to diet on Thanksgiving.” She pushed herself back up off the couch, a little more wobbly than she was expecting. Maybe she did need to slow down. But why? Today was all about feasting and gluttony and overdoing it. If she was being completely honest, she was dyingto overdo it. She knew Thanksgiving would be the first opportunity she’d had since the cruise to actually, really stuff herself—something she hadn’t realized she would miss until she left the cruise ship and had to get back to real life.

As she headed to the kitchen, she missed Veronica’s quiet, snide remark: “A diet definitely wouldn’t hurt you…”

Claire was sitting at the kitchen table when she walked in, looking slightly sweaty and red in the face. She was drinking a Coke and smiled at Minnie as she walked in. “I had to sit for a bit! I forgot how much work it is getting such a big meal on the table every year.” There was a bowl of chips on the table and she was snacking absently, a few crumbs falling down the cleavage of her very festive pumpkin-colored dress.

“That’s why I stay out of it every year. Holidays are about relaxing, not busting your ass. I’m grateful there’s someone who wants to do it, but sometimes I feel like we’d all be just as happy ordering pizza.”

“Ooh, pizza—I’d kill for a couple slices right now. I know there’s turkey and ham and all those sides on the way, but”—she paused to stuff a palmful of chips into her mouth—“I’m shtarving!”

Minnie laughed. “Chips not cutting it?”

“Not even a little.”

“Well, be grateful you’re eating something. Poor Veronica’s still in there refusing to eat a bite until we get to the dinner table. Talk about starving.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “So ridiculous. Like not eating for one day is gonna make her skinny again.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…”

“I would.”

And that was that.

Minnie continued wandering around the house, bouncing from room to room and making small talk with family members. An hour passed without dinner arriving on the table, and then another, and even with all the beer she’d drunk, she was starting to get hungry. And bored. She stepped out onto the back deck, hoping the cool late November air would distract her.

Two of her younger cousins—both high school kids still—were sitting in the backyard on the old swing set, facing away from the deck. She waved, but they didn’t notice her. Fine by Minnie. If she had to try to make conversation with teenagers again before even a single bite of mashed potatoes, she might scream.

She sat on one of the deck chairs, wishing she had a joint or a cigarette to pass the time with. Fuck, she was hungry. And there wasn’t much to distract her in the backyard. Even where they lived, where the ground didn’t generally freeze over the winter, things were pretty brown and dead outside, so she didn’t even have anything to look at.

Her cousins, not realizing they weren’t alone, were still talking loudly. At first, they were gossiping about mutual friends and other cousins—someone got in trouble for vaping at school, another was grounded for months because they’d gotten caught shoplifting. Tedious.

And then they started talking about her sisters, and Minnie couldn’t help but lean in. She loved her sisters, but it’s not like she was gonna resist listening to a little shit-talking. “No ‘cause like, wasn’t Veronica a soccer player and whatever?”

“Yeah, she was super built before. Hella strong, all muscle.”

“Did she get injured or something? I never heard why she stopped playing.”

“Nooo, oh my god, you didn’t hear? She just quit. Like straight up. She was doing fine and then just… stopped.”

“Dang, so she really quit pro sports to become a pro blob.”

Both cousins laughed. Minnie winced a bit. She’d thought much the same, but it was still a little harsh to hear coming from someone else.

“And with Claire—she was a cheerleader when we were freshmen, right? I remember seeing her at games and stuff. She was always so teeny.”

“My mom says she just got fat when she went to college. Like, no real explanation or anything. Just blew up.”

“I mean, should we really be surprised? Aunt Savannah is, like—” That cousin stopped, and stuck their arms far out to their sides, puffing their cheeks out in a gross imitation of the Emple matriarch’s fatness. Both cousins laughed. Minnie felt a twinge of guilt. But, again, it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought the same thing before.

“It’s so wild that all three of her kids ended up so big, though. Even Minnie’s super chunky these days.”

“For real. Next to them she’s skinny, even though she looks like she ate the skinny version of herself.”

Minnie’s face burned with anger. What the fuck were they even talking about? She was a little thicker now, but to compare her to her mom and her sisters? That was fucking low.

“I see her when she’s working sometimes. Half the time her shirts don’t even fit. There’s always a little belly pooch sticking out. I’d say she looks kinda MILFy these days, but mostly she just seems like she needs to go on a diet before she gets even bigger.”

Minnie rushed to get out of the deck chair, noticing for the first time the way the arms of the chair pinched at her hips. Nononono, they can’t be right!She ran back inside and shut the door, feeling shaky and struggling to talk herself down.

I’m not fat, and I can prove it right now.That’s what she told herself as she wound through the house toward the stairs. There was a scale in the upstairs bathroom that she could use that would vindicate her, she was sure. (Only if you can fucking read it over your tits, and are you sure you can even do that?) She’d even started climbing the stairs when she heard her mom holler, “Dinner’s ready! Everybody to the table!”

Minnie stopped on the stairs. It would only take a couple minutes for her to go up and confirm that she was right—that she was still skinny, that she wasn’t like her sisters. She could do it right now, before dinner. The smell of hot, butter-basted turkey, marshmallow sweet potatoes, and maple-glazed ham wafted through the air as she stood there. Really, this would be the best time to weigh herself if she wanted accurate results.

“Minnie!”

She jumped. Her mother was at the foot of the steps. “Yeah?”

“Come down, we’re waiting on you to get started!”

Minnie nodded and headed down the stairs, following after her mom to the dining room where they’d pushed a few folding tables together so everyone could sit in the same room. “Sorry to keep everyone waiting!” she said as she took her seat.

In the rush that followed of everyone loading up their first plate of the afternoon and passing heavy dishes around the table, the calls for gravy at one end of the table and cranberry sauce at the other, and the first few heavenly bites of the feast they’d all waited hours for, Minnie mostly forgot her cousins’ criticism.

When she filled her second plate, she didn’t think much of it. Who doesn’t get seconds at Thanksgiving? Even Veronica, as ascetic as she’d been the last couple days, was chowing down like she’d been starving herself for a week.

But when she was digging into her fourth plate, she felt a twinge of discomfort (and not just from her stomach). She realized most of her relatives were only on their second plate, or maybe a third with small helpings of their favorite items. Her mother, Claire, and Veronica were the standouts, eating heartily despite so many helpings. Her mother and Claire both still seemed enraptured with every bite, enjoying favorite foods they didn’t get much chance to eat the rest of the year. Veronica was eating almost reluctantly, like she would’ve liked to stop but couldn’t bring herself to.

And alongside them, Minnie was eating mindlessly, shoveling food in because it was a holiday and she might as well take the opportunity to glut herself. Maybe her cousins were more right than she wanted to admit…

Still, that didn’t stop her. She finished nearly an entire tray of marshmallow sweet potatoes on her own, and close to a quarter of the massive ham. By the time she finally set her fork down, she’d finished off six plates, and her belly was rock hard and pressing against the table. Her chest felt heavy pressing down against it, and for once she wished her boobs were smaller so her stomach had more room to expand. She felt as dazed as she had during the halcyon final days of the cruise that summer, when she and Claire had spent every day stuffing themselves at every meal.

Discomfort aside, she had to admit she liked this too-full feeling. Her sisters were often driven to their most gluttonous heights by the flavors and textures of their favorite foods, but Minnie realized when she really let herself eat, she was chasing this exact sensation: the feeling of being bloated round, stomach churning and warm, hard to the touch under palm. Usually she only felt this big when she drank. A food baby felt altogether different than the sloshy fullness of too much beer, and it was something she got to experience all too rarely. As she sat back in her chair to try to give herself more room, all she wanted to do was lift up her skin-tight shirt and rub her aching belly. She felt a throb between her legs at the thought. Maybe I need to do this more often… Not that she could really afford to. Getting this stuffed was expensive, and the cruise and holidays were an exception in Minnie’s minimum-wage life. Momma probably wouldn’t mind if I started coming over for dinner once a week, she mused as she let out a belch behind her hand. Maybe twice...

When someone at the table suggested they all take a break before dessert to give everyone time to digest, Minnie was a little disappointed. Realistically, she couldn’t have managed more than a couple bites of pie and ice cream before tapping out. But waiting meant she wouldn’t feel stuffed like this anymore.

Then she remembered there would be leftovers for her to take home, and she didn’t feel quite so sad.