Borrowed Time - Chapter 1 (part 1) (Patreon)

Loretta awakens to the scent of bacon, and the start of a new day~

A new collaberation between myself, and my dear friend Firefox!

Written by Firefox 

Illustrated by Me

Stay tuned, for the start of a new and wonderful story! 

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She dreamt of green eyes and sharp smiles, and to see herself indulged.

Who am I to deny her?

Loretta awoke to the sound of a fire alarm and the smell of burnt bacon. It meant that her mother was cooking, something typically reserved for special occasions. Curiosity got the better of her. She planned to make a trip to the kitchen once she had made herself decent. 

For a long while, she lay on her back, tangled in the sheets and slowly amassing the will to roll out of bed. She tried briefly to remember the dream she had been having, but it had already slipped away. Imagining the taste and texture of bacon, however burnt, was what finally motivated her to heave herself upright. It was no easy task, but she had become accustomed to it over time, grunting under her shallow breath. She spent a few moments slouched forward, her eyes adjusting. Her gaze drifted idly over her surroundings, giving her a dull reminder that her cramped, rectangular room was a complete and total mess, as it had been every morning for as far back as she cared to remember.

There was the migratory heap of clothes on the floor; clean and dirty garments co-inhabiting the same space, with smell as the only real distinguishing factor between the two. She had never even bothered trying to keep track of the empty soda cans littering nearly every available surface, though she imagined that if she recycled them all she could easily afford a trip to a big convention. The whites of used paper plates and discarded styrofoam containers stood out in the darkened room, similarly numerous. A scant few rays of sunlight managed to filter through the curtains, illuminating dust that seemed to hover in the dank, stale air.

It was easy to ignore the clutter when there were distractions readily available. Her gaming console sat proudly atop her dresser, covered in stickers she had purchased at local conventions. The walls of her room were similarly crowded with overlapping posters of video games and cartoons, some domestic, but most foreign.

A quick brush over the sheets yielded a controller and a few stray cheetos, but pushing the biggest button on the device proved futile. She realized a moment later that the batteries were dead. 

"Just as well," she thought, sighing. 

She had nearly forgotten about investigating the source of the bacon smell.

Loretta’s breasts heaved as she sucked in a big breath, preparing her body for the more strenuous part of her wake-up routine. First came the scooting. The springs of her mattress squealed and squeaked under her shifting weight, rocking and turning inch by inch until she felt her knees bending. One set of talons sank into the grungy carpet, the other settled on an open bag of chips with a rather unintentionally-satisfying crunch.

Once her claws were firmly planted, she started to rock again, heaving her weight forward in greater and greater degrees until, with a much louder grunt, she managed to get herself standing. Complaint from her knees and ankles was instantaneous, but it was nothing new. Neither was the swaying. Gravity fought her center of balance, endeavoring to drag her back down on her rump. She raised her arms from her sides to steady herself. When she was sure that she wasn’t about to tumble in any direction, she slowly began to shuffle toward the heap of clothes on the other side of the room.

This mound of clothing happened to sit before a mirror, and in the path of the few streams of sunlight trickling through her curtains. She stared blankly into her own reflection as she came to a stop.

First, she met her own gaze behind the long, greasy, wavy plumes of her hair. Red eyes blinked away the last vestiges of sleep, squinted by the roundness of her cheeks. Her eyes began to wander across her charcoal-black landscape. The rolling, feathery curves of her body were a familiar sight. Loretta imagined that, were she of a different mindset, her immense figure might be a source of anguish. For the most part, though, she viewed her wobbling body with little more than defeated indifference. There was no point in denying that she was very, very fat. She always had been, and she assumed that she always would be. Being so enormous had very obvious downsides, but for the longest time, she simply hadn’t cared enough to do anything to change it because it was easy to ignore. 

At least, it used to be.