Meghan's Misadventures (Chapter 13): "Here Comes the Bride (Big, Fat, and Wide)" (Patreon)

Meghan and Zeke were married on April 1st.  The date was chosen based on weather and chapel availability, but the duplicitous nature of their relationship made it especially appropriate.

The deception continued through the ceremony.  It began with the "blushing bride," whose ruddy face had more to do with a lack of oxygen from the shapewear squeezing her into her white wedding dress than a lack of sexual experience, and ended with the groom's promise to love his wife “through thick or thin" when, in fact, only one was an option.

Still, as Zeke lifted the veil on his barely breathing betrothed, he couldn't help but smile.  She was beautiful.  Although he'd lamented her twenty-five-pound weight loss leading up to the ceremony, especially with her so close to the point of no return, he appreciated the reemergence of her sharpened features and girdle-guided hourglass.

The menfolk in attendance did too.  Meghan's sleek dress didn't have a train, but that didn't keep them from ogling her caboose as she glided down the aisle. Meanwhile, the women in the audience, which included most of the Ladies Auxiliary, shifted nervously in their seats.  Few expected the marriage to last and they were concerned that a downsized Meghan would soon be back on the market looking like Grade A Prime rather than sloppy seconds.

Turns out, they had nothing to worry about.

While having a slimmed-down bride was nice for Zeke's ego and photo album posterity, and quieted those in attendance who had speculated Zeke was only marrying Meghan because he had to, Zeke understood that, in the grand scheme of things, twenty-five pounds were mere drops in Meghan's oversized bucket.  She was still 200 pounds and conditioned to be out-of-condition.  If the way she tore into the wedding cake at the reception was any indication, he doubted she would ever see that tiny number on the scale again.

Sure enough, three pieces of cake later Zeke heard a POP that wasn’t from champagne or the flashbulb of the photographer.  The panicked expression on his bride's face told him what her dress had apparently just told her--

It was time to split.

So, with his arm around her waist to hide the doughy protrusion of flesh poking through her popped stitches, the couple fled the church to Zeke's pickup, which had been decorated with beer cans and graffitied "Congraduations" and "Just Maried" by his bumpkin brother. While their hurried departure didn't allow for time to be rained with rice, the POP-POP-POP of Meghan's rupturing wedding dress serenaded their escape like celebratory fireworks.

At least it made for easy removal once the newlyweds arrived home to consummate their marriage in some less-than-Holy-mattress-moaning.

NOTA BENE: I planned for this to be the final chapter but, like Meghan, it just kept growing!  Rather than make you wait for the entire thing (I have to leave town for a few days to visit an ill relative) I divided the finale into two parts. This one is a little light, visual-wise, but the conclusion will feature at least ten illustrations documenting what marriage does to Meghan's figure.