Samantha part 8 (Patreon)

Chapter Eight: All's Fair In Love, War, and Obesity

Britney hummed to herself as she heaved herself out of the shower, moving like a dinosaur with her slow plodding steps. Her belly apron wobbled, everything wobbled, there was not a single firm spot on her body. No, her body was more akin to a sack of liquid butter, oozy and packed with grease. Fat was an interesting thing, at once solid, but also a liquid that moved like it, flowing in waves. Stepping outside he fat made loud wet squelching sounds from her apron slapping against her thighs and her thighs rubbing together.

Britney immediately sat down in front of the mirror and let out a gasp of relief. Getting up from her shower chair and then getting out of the shower was enough to tire the 600 pound whale. She took two minutes to catch her breath before she was ready to dry her hair. She grabbed her hair dryer and clicked it on...only for a big white explosion of baby powder blew out of it.

“FUCK!!” Britney yelled out and dropped the hair dryer to the ground, now coated in a layer of baby powder. The white powder became caked to her wet body and made her look like a great big marshmallow.

“How the fuck did that whale do it! UGH!” Britney looked herself over in the mirror. She couldn’t believe how Sam got her. Worst of all, it was the very same prank she had done to Sam a few years back. “Now I have to take another shower,” Britney grumbled, keenly aware of the cruel appeal of the prank. “Hmmmph!” She grunted and heaved her body up to get back in the shower. Wobbling her huge body back inside she cranked the water up to a hot jet setting. She plopped back onto the shower seat, once more breathing heavily. “Hoo, hoo,” She breathed with her mouth hanging open, gasping for oxygen while the baby powder washed off her and circled the drain.

Grasping a rag on a stick she proceeded to wash herself once more. Soaping up the stick she dug it deep under her lardy side rolls, making sure to get all the white powder off her. She grasped a chunk of her stomach and lifted it, sticking the stick under her belly and washing thoroughly. WIth such a vast body of lard Britney had to give every inch of her a detailed wash, otherwise she would get nasty rashes. That’s what the baby powder helped prevent anyways.

“That whale can’t even wash herself without Emily, I bet she put her up to it. How else could she sneak in here?”

While she worked diligently washing herself Britney plotted.

“So she wants to restart the prank war? Fine! That fat bitch is going to get what's coming to her….this means war!”

======

You were giggly while she watched TV in her room. Even though you were immobile you had been encouraged by everyone to at least do the bare minimum of movement for the sake of your new heart, just to get it pumping. Of course while loathed moving like the fat lazy pig you were, you obliged them in this case and felt overjoyed by the lack of pain in your chest.

Yes, your knees and hips felt like they were being ground into powder, even as you moved with the assistance of a walker. Yes your back still aches from your belly sagging down and touching the ground. But the lack of hot knives stabbing you in the chest was more than welcome.

So you obliged your doctor, you obliged Miss Emily, you obliged your mother, and did your minimal exercises.

It was a great excuse to get back at your sister.

She had done it to you one time, when you were getting ready for a big date. It ruined the whole night because it took you a full hour to reclean yourself and your date had to wait downstairs all the while. It was a massive pain in the ass that you never forgot. It’s one thing to forgive, it’s an entirely different thing to forget and you used your memory to the fullest advantage.

While you watched TV in your comfortable muumuu you suddenly felt something. You could feel something crawling up your leg, little feet were pushing into the soft fat of your bulbous legs. You grunted, peering down and saw a little white mouse.

You screamed loudly and started to cry. You hated mice!

“Hnnnh! Hnnnnn!” You frantically whined at the white mouse crawling all over your elephantine body. You were too big to do anything about it, completely and utterly helpless against the rodent. Finally you found it in yourself to call it “EMILY! EMILY I NEED YOU!!!”

Emily came rushing into the room, “Sam, Sam, what is it!”

“Isamosamisamou,” you were babbling incoherently, your eyes were now red from how many tears of fear you had shed. Emily tried to listen carefully, but then she saw the mouse resting on your mountainous middle and could only chuckle.

“Oh Sam,” Emily sighed and picked the mouse off you. Holding it up by its tail she asked, “Now where did this come from?”

“Where do you think!” You scream and try to catch your breath, emotionally drained. “Only Britney would take advantage of my phobia.”

“Well I guess your new heart is working. If this had happened before your transplant I’m certain you’d be dead right now,” Emily tells you, holding the mouse in her hand. “I’m going to talk to your mother about this. In the meantime Sam, I beg of you, please don’t escalate. Please, please don’t escalate. I don’t want a repeat of what happened last time.”

You remained quiet, still recovering from the shock.

Emily sighed, “I’m going to optimistically take your silence as a yes and hope you’re not plotting against your sister.”

Miss Emily’s optimism was misplaced. You were doing exactly that.

What this is is war.

=========

A couple of days later you and Miss Emily were outside in the garden. You moved inch by inch on your walker, your hanging stomach brushing against the grass on the ground. You noted how your heart thumped in your chest. While your new heart wasn’t so fat encrusted it still worked hard to pump blood all through your walrus like body. A fast heartbeat was just unavoidable for a girl your size.

Emily smelled one of your mother’s prized roses and sighed at the fragrance. But then she saw you turning over rocks with your bloated foot.

“Sam, what are you doing?”

You didn’t answer, you were focused on turning over rocks.

Later that day Britney hobbled into her room. Her cane wobbled under the strain of her 600 pounds and she grinned, a mobility scooter was definitely in her future. It would be bitter sweet, she did like her cane and how large it made her look, but progression was progression. She plopped heavily on her heavy duty reinforced desk chair and reached for her diary and then her pencil box. Her round sausage finger clicked open the box and she screamed!

Slugs! There were slugs in her pencil box!

“Eeeee!” Britney shrieked and threw the box against the wall, scattering the slugs everywhere.

“Oh I’m going to get her good! This isn’t over!”

======

“I know there’s at least two of you.”

Miss Emily was addressing all the maids and cooks and the rest of the staff. Even Lance was present. In the kitchen the ovens were working over time as Sam and Britney ordered room service left and right.

“I know how hard it is to say no to them, but in this instance all of you need to put your foot down and tell them no.”

The staff remained silent and tried looking away, avoiding eye contact.

Emily shook her head in disapproval, “Okay then. If any of you get caught red handed in their little war, you’re fired. Am I understood? Okay good, let’s get back to work.”

The staff dispersed until the only ones remaining were two plump maids.

“Jenny we can’t keep this up, if we get caught we’re going to be fired,” The short maid looked pleadingly at her friend.

“Molly, the bribes keep on getting bigger.”

Jenny, the taller one, pulled a few hundred dollar bills from the pockets of her maid gown, “Look at this right here. 500 dollars just for that slug prank.”

“Do you think they know they’re both using us?”

“Don’t even think of letting them get aware. We’re playing both sides.”

“I still think this is a bad idea Jenny.”

“You’re just being paranoid Molly.”

“I’ve just got a bad feeling about this.”

=======

You were happy as a pig in poop getting fed after your shower.

“Monroe is doing such great work on you,” Emily coos, giving your flabby middle a good shake while feeding you macaroni and cheese.

You take a deep breath before taking a big bite, chewing your rub your bulk moaning “I know, I’m a big blob. Oh god, I feel so ravenous, this new heart is doing wonders for my appetite.”

Now thoroughly used to your new heart you had put your new found energy to good use, stuffing your belly with rich fattening food. There were three whole carts filled with dirty discarded dishes from your piggish gluttony today. You were addicted to that pleasurable stuffed feeling, it was the dragon you chased day after day, going through great lengths to catch it with every bite.

While Emily fed you she also saw to your skin treatment. She basted your skin with lotions and then applied baby powder to your folds, lifting up meaty flaps to powder your rolls.

“Work, work, work,” Emily playfully said before groaning to lift your blobby belly with both hands to powder under your belly around your massive FUPA, “Every day you get bigger you create more work for me.”

“Heheh, sorry,” You giggle as the white powder was applied and Emily let go of your gut, the weight of the heavy fat sack flopping down on you making you grunt. The fat flowed out in waves, it was a feeling only the top one percent fattest women would ever know. All powdered up you sighed in relaxation...until you started to fidget.

“Is everything alright Sam?”

“Mmmth!”

Your heavy arms dig into your lard and you start to itch.

“Something’s wrong, I feel itchy all over.”

Emily watched you wobble and shake trying to scratch yourself. An itchy piggy you jiggle wildly and quickly tire yourself out, your tongue hanging out like a panting dog.

“What in the world…” Emily mumbled before she unscrewed the baby powder container and took a whiff, “Oh my God, someone switched out the powder!”

You start to whimper, so itchy and irritated, “Why is she doing this!”

“Are you escalating things Sam?”

You scrunch up your face, trying to avoid the question. Emily just sighed, “This has got to stop Sam, before something really bad happens. Now come on, get up.”

You whine, “But I’m so tired from itching and I have a stuffed tummy, I can’t take another shower again.”

Emily folded her arms, “I can’t leave you an itchy pig, come on, you’re getting a shower.”

You only let out one more petulant whine. The other aspect of the prank, which was making you move your fat ass more than you wanted, was not lost on you.

Britney meant business.

========

“If one more prank happens, just one more, I’m firing all of you.”

The staff suddenly exploded into a fury of people talking over each other while Emily waved her arms.

“QUIET DOWN! I know for a fact two immobile girls can’t possibly wage a war like this, so if cleaning house is what it’s going to take to stop this nonsense then so be it! That is all!”

The staff grumbled and dispersed while Jenny and Molly both looked at each other nervously.

“Jenny, what are we going to do?” Molly whispered to which Jenny looked down at her fattened pockets full of a thousand dollars.

“We’re all fucked,” Jenny icely whispered to Molly’s horror.

“O-oh no…”

=======

You and Britney were both seated at the table, each one digging into a huge bowl of fettuccine alfredo. Their bowls were more like separate pots just for the two of you.

“Girls, manners!”

Your mother reprimands the two of you for sticking your greedy round hands into the pots like you were Winnie the Pooh. You shrugged, pushing in a big mouthful of buttery cheesy carbs before using the large serving fork to scoop more pasta.

“Hahaha,” Britney laughs smugly, “It’ll take a long time before that new heart of yours is properly clogged, mine is probably more clogged than yours are!” Britney proudly pats her chest where her heart disease ridden heart sat.

“Britney, not at the dinner table,”

Your mother tries to control things even as you dump an entire container of parmesan cheese into your pot like you were trying to make a point to your little sister.

“My new heart is still thumping fast, it has to pump fast to supply blood to my massive,” your hands touch what you can of your belly, “Morbid,” your fingers are nowhere close to touching your belly button, even then your upper belly roll had long since covered it up, “Body.”

“Moooom, Samantha is playing with her fat!”

“Samantha, don’t show off.”

“My point is,” you say with a mouthful of pasta, “It won’t be long. Also, it’s not like my other organs aren’t being smothered in my lard. My next transplant is going to be my liver, it just can’t handle all my blubber, and then I might need my kidneys replaced too.”

“It’s a shame we can’t replace your stomach, pretty sure the size of that stretched out stomach gives you an unfair advantage.”

“Girls, that is enough! Good heaven above, you don’t need to compete with each other! Repeat, you are not in competition with each other. Now finish your pasta so we can go to church.”

You both hurried your eating, with you finishing first of course.

After that you and Britney were both dressed to the nines in fancy church clothes that were modest, unlike the school uniforms of Marylin Monroe. The church was full of lively music as you rolled in on your scooter while your mother and sister hobbled behind you on their heavy duty canes.

Your mother and sister took up an entire pew, there was no way you would be able to sit in one, so you sat on your scooter instead.

Many of the church goers ranged from chubby in the 200s to reasonably fat in the 400s.

The preacher gave his sermons which were filled with their church’s philosophy, the prosperity theology where financial blessing and physical well-being are always the will of God for them, and that faith, positive speech, and donations to religious causes will increase one's material wealth. It was the greatest moral justification for living in such an obese world.

Still, still you were bored. You weren’t such a big thinker when it came to things like “faith” or “salvation.”

You were just waiting for the after party.

In the dining hall in another part of the church many, many pastries were laid out. Donuts, croissants, danishes, it wasn’t as awe inspiring as the desert floor at the Monroe cafeteria, but what could you say? Donuts were donuts. You rolled over to the table and started eating like a pig at a through. Many did, rolling their scooters to the long table to eat like the pigs they were.

“Mmm! Oh I love sugar so much!”

It was a strange thing to be nearly a thousand pounds and only having prediabetes. It was a somewhat embarrassing thing to admit at her size. Even her dreaded enemy Sabrina had it! Why shouldn’t you, it was something you should have gotten a long time ago, if not for your surprisingly strong pancreas.

You dug into the donuts, you sucked the cream out of them like they were cocks. You licked the glaze and frosting off the donuts before eating. You buttered your croissants. You were being a complete sugar pig, reaching for the platter of sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies. In the house of God you made a glutton of yourself, eating to the point your enormous belly pushed out your modest dress. A big unhealthy greedy ball of fat, you were determined to grow.

Meanwhile Jenny and Molly were being questioned by Emily and Lance.

“We both know you did it, now talk. It couldn’t be more obvious it was you two. Both girls kept on requesting you, so you played both sides like a greedy arms dealer.” Lance dressed them down, his six foot four height towering over both maids.

Emily, playing her role as the good cop, talked to them in a more soothing tone.

“We all know how spoiled those girls are. It’s hard to say no, isn’t it? If you tell the truth it’ll lessen the punishment we’ll have to give you two.”

Jenny suddenly broke into tears.

“It was so hard to say no! Please don’t fire us Miss Emily, we didn’t mean for it to go this far!”

While Jenny sobbed Molly remained silent, eyes shut, unable to look at the senior staff members.

“Very good,” Emily smiled and said “See? Telling the truth isn’t so bad.”

Lance firmly told them both, “Toilet duty for the rest of the year.”

“T-Toilet duty?!” Molly suddenly spoke up.

Emily nodded, “Yes, toilet duty for the girls and Mrs. Lang. It’s only fitting you get assigned to the more...dirtiest of our jobs here.”

“Now get going to the restroom, you never know when one of them has to go.”

Both maids sulked and walked defeated from the kitchen.

“There goes some regular ass wipes,” Lance mutters to which Emily giggles.

==========

“Well Samantha, it’s almost time to head back to school. Should we check your weight before you go?”

Clad in your green chucks, your black leggings, your plaid green skirt, your black button down shirt, your green tie, and your brown jacket with the Monroe Academy seal on the left chest pocket, you were all ready to go back. In fact, your uniform was feeling even tighter now!

“I definitely feel I’ve put on weight.”

Britney sat with her arms crossed watching you move so slowly to the scale, a large platform with a screen on the wall. Without your scooter all you had to help you move was your walker. You leaned on it for dear life, wincing with each step. Your butt surged out from under your green skirt and your enormous panties could be made out through the black tights you wore.

You eased off the walker and stood, for however long it took, groaning from the pain of standing.

One thousand and three pounds.

Your eyes bulged, you were ecstatic as you were helped back to your scooter by both Lance and Emily.

“A thousand, I can’t believe, a thousand,” You pant, your green necktie rising up and down in excitement.

“Well woopidoo, you breached a thousand pounds. Congratulations,” Your sister spat sarcastically.

“God, what is your problem Britney? Are THAT jealous of me?”

“YOU RAN OVER MY FOOT! Remember thanksgiving three years ago? You were drinking and scooting and you ran over my foot and broke my fucking foot. I had to wear a cast, you fat pig! You never even apologised, you just went on eating and glutting!”

Tears began to flow from her cheeks and you rose from your scooter, wincing with each step. You embrace your sister in a big hug.

“I am so sorry I treated you so badly. I love you Britney”

Britney didn’t know what to do. This was a completely different Samantha then she was used to. You had truly grown as a person at Monroe and in more ways than one. You never would have done this before your experiences there.

“I love you too Sam.”

And so Britney and your mother watched Emily and Lance put you into the van.

It was back to Monroe for you, back to eating, back to gorging, and back to growing.

You licked your lips in anticipation.