Spoils of Daisy Short Story and Alternate Bikini Tier 3 Special! (Patreon)

It seems to be the Week of Daisy. Which is no bad thing! What started as a request give away has become a huge part of this months content. With alternative versions, costumes, comics and weight gain sequences. It's been a lot of fun to have so many Patrons take part and a new patron and writer known as LadderCoins has written a short story. Originally to be 350-500 words of how Daisy became so morbidly obese. And boiii did Laddercoins come up with the goods and wrote way more than he had to!

So check him out on his deviantart and write a comment here for him to see in Tier 3 so he can know how much you love his writing coupled with my art. It may even be the start of some new collaborations.

https://www.deviantart.com/laddercoins

Without further ado, enjoy the Spoils of Daisy!

Daisy couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. She’d done everything Disney had asked of her, and all the stuff that had gone ‘wrong’ was basically their fault anyway.

She had known that there would be an extreme reaction to Star Wars: The Last Jedi, whether positive, negative or somewhere between. What she hadn’t accounted for was how much it would affect her personally. Who knew that receiving thousands of what was pretty close to death threats would stress a person out a little? Fearing a complete breakdown and loss of their star, Disney decided to remove Daisy from the situation, paying to fly her to a secluded R&R resort, the kind that the press didn’t know about because it never dealt with anyone except the Hollywood studios who provided the vast majority of their clientele. It was all expenses paid and, as far as Daisy was concerned, that was Disney’s first mistake.

She had spent the first few days in bed, sheltering from the world and surviving on the same pitiful diet she had been on for a year and a half in prep for the movie. Finally she emerged, at first almost terrified of what would be waiting for her, but soon she realised the nature of the resort when nobody batted an eye lid at her, even as she slightly overfilled a breakfast plate to sate her starving stomach. She followed that with a day by the pool, discovering the seemingly endless wonders of the service team. Massages, manicures, beauty treatments, and as many snacks and sweet drinks as she could think of. The rush of such freedom was too much for her, as she spent the next day in bed recovering from her excess.

Daisy soon adapted to the resort lifestyle, however. Her days became entirely her own, and the life of leisure became her life. Most notably, she began to revel in how freely she could choose her meals, and the snacks that filled the space between them. Practised as they were in discretion, the hotel staff could not help discussing amongst themselves how often the young British lady would ring down to room service, how high and how many times she would fill her plate from the breakfast buffet (when she bothered to come down), and just how many empty plates piled up on the low table next to her spot at poolside. With nothing else to do; no lines to learn or scenes to rehearse or media appearances to prep for, eating became Daisy’s hobby, and she began to challenge herself to try every single possible morsel and combination on the menu. Whether she meant or not, she also began to overeat a little as well, and day by day her stomach would stretch as it tried to accommodate her ever increasing intake.

Every couple of months, Disney would call. At first, just to check up on how she was feeling, how her recovery was going. As the first 18 months passed, however, the calls changed to asking her when she could come back, when they could send her the script for the next movie. Daisy’s reply was always a variation of the same; she wasn’t ready to come back, she was still feeling some ‘anxiety’ over the fan backlash, and didn’t want to rush back too early and then delay the production because she was too stressed to perform. In reality, Daisy had forgotten the very meaning of the word ‘stress’. Her only worry was the sudden tightness of her bikini’s, and perhaps how lethargic she felt each day, despite getting probably more sleep than was necessary. As part of their job, the staff of the resort did their best to keep Daisy comfortable as the effects of her lavish lifestyle became more and more apparent, but they couldn’t protect her against bursts and rips in her clothes, nor the seats which collapsed beneath her. They could only apologise when the laundry maid found her wedged in her bathroom door, unable to move in either direction.

But the years went by. Disney pushed the production date for the next Star Wars sequel back and back, and back again. The resort continued to adapt to accommodate its longest-term resident, as Daisy herself continued to adapt to her lifestyle and the changes it created for her. It was she herself who finally made the decision to return, sick of her employers endless phone calls, texts and letters almost demanding she at least have some contact with the outside world. She had ridden the anxiety excuse, knowing that Disney would never risk upsetting her with so much invested, but to tell the truth she was now beginning to get a little bored. She could always bring up how much ‘stress’ she was suddenly feeling if she wanted to come back, right?

And so, she certainly couldn’t see what all the fuss was about, when she waddled into the press event for the announcement of, finally, the third Star Wars movie. Dumbstruck faces, loud murmurings, and even screaming and shouting from Disney executives at those who were supposed to be her handlers. For some reason they had forced her to weigh herself, like it mattered. 800lbs? So what? A little extra weight? When they had paid for her to stay at a place with such delicious food and no reason to exert herself, what did they expect?

As she was heaved up onto the stage and shown to her place at the panel, a long steel bench instead of the soft leather chairs everyone else seemed to have, Daisy felt a feeling she hadn’t felt for a long time. She felt hungry. Turning to the stern, strong security men who had surrounded her since she arrived, she wheezed a deep breath and said, “Hey, I’m feeling a little stressed. You couldn’t nip out and pick up a few pizzas, could you?”