Chapter 1 - the last night

The summer was coming to a sudden end, and the crisp air shocked her bare skin when she lit her cigarette behind the tent. With only ornate feathered fans strapped to her arms, a feather boa loose around her neck, and a painfully tight lace panties to keep her warm. Her light pink accessories added to her allure in the warm tent by the soft lights, but out in the cold her pale creamy white skin turned a shade of pink that made her ornaments look like extensions of her body. Her soft slack belly shrank and expanded as she inhaled and exhaled her smoke, she shivered and she felt her meaty flesh jiggle on her hips, rump, thighs, belly, and breasts.

A year ago she had been the exact ideal definition of what a female body should look like, soft and curvy, only jiggling in the right places when she shook her shoulders in a customer’s face or wiggled her hips on stage; she had been the 150 pound fair beauty that every woman wanted to be, and every man wanted to have. But, gaining 140 pounds in the last year she was the fattest fan dancer there ever had been. People still came to see her dance in the show, not for her beauty now, but for the spectacle of such a fat body on display.

She knew her time as a fan dancer was going to have to end, another 25 pounds and she would be beyond a spectacle of a fat fan dancer, she would be the porker that needs to get off the stage. She knew her metabolism was a ticking time bomb that would eventually explode her body with flab, Big Bathory was her older sister after all, but she at least thought she would retire from the girlie show due to age before she got fat. Bathory had always been fat while she had been thin until this past year.

When they were teens and the Nun had sold them to Tsar Alexei’s Traveling Show Extravaganza she worked as a ticket girl until she was 16 and her curves came in, then straight to the girlie show to bare all for hicks and horny businessmen across the country, and in a few cases private sessions with certain rich and powerful men. Some, she was told, were Senators and Generals. She was a virgin when she had her first Senator. She found the whole effort boring. She hadn’t had a rich nor powerful man since she began to get fat. Now she only received private requests from regular Joes. These regular Joes she found less boring, but did not enjoy being with them any more than the wealthy ones. There were a few who offered to take her away from this life and let her raise babies, and sometimes she thought she could learn to love them. They seemed like they could be tender and caring enough, but usually once the act was completed she never saw them again.

Was that what she was to become when she was out of the girlie show, the porker for hicks to fuck? Or would it be back to the ticket booth? That was doubtful, only kids run the ticket booth until they have perfected their talents well enough for the show. Would she be forced to fatten up and go on a double bill with her sister? Doubtful, but she still shuddered at the idea of a fate like her sisters.

Bathory was 17 when they were sold, and was already a good 300 pounds. She went straight to being billed as Big Bathory, the fattest most youthful girl in the world, but Tsar Alexei kept her sedentary and forced her to eat at all times in between shows, and ten years in there was no way to tell how much Bathory actually weighed. She was now billed as the One-Tonne-Woman, but if anyone were to guess close enough to count as accurate she was only 800 pounds. She could no longer move on her own, and it took four men to move her from her sleeper car to the tent for a show. No, she would be miserable stuck in Bathory’s fate. Bathory thrived on it though, she was treated like a queen, and was very clearly Tsar Alexei’s favorite, and the fatter she got the bigger the crowd she brought in. People just can’t help themselves, they need to look upon the grotesque.

When she broke 200 pounds Alexei had warned her that she would not be able to replace Bathory. He said it as a joke, but there was a warning in it as though he thought she was trying to do so. When she broke 225 pounds Alexei warned her that there is a size limit to what a fan dancer could be, and that he would not know what he would do with her if she ever became that big. She tried to lose weight but the pounds kept piling on.

“Why are you not with the other girls?” Alexei’s voice broke the silence of the night as he came out of the shadows and handed a flask of rot-gut whiskey to her. He was using his normal voice, not the exaggeratedly phony accent he puts on for the townies, but the accent he cultivated growing up in St. Louise running street corner scams before conning his way into show-business.

“They don’t like me anymore,” she ashed her cigarette and gulped down a painful mouthful of booze then handed the flask back to the man. “What, not since I got so fat now. If I go in the tent after the show with them they move to the other side and laugh about the way my body parts are shaped now.”

"You look about 300 now."

"Doc said 290, yeah. Can't find a cause for it..."

“About that,” Alexei cut her off with a serious tone. “You seem to still be getting fatter. You diet. You exercise. Your off-putting flesh still grows. I really wont have a use for you if you get much fatter. You’re fattening up like a pig ready for the larder, you have cellulite and stretch marks,, and your body is starting to sag. And, I already have you sister as our fat lady. I don't have a need for two."

“I’ve been trying to lose, but I just get fatter by the day, no matter what I d…”

Her complaint was cut short by a quick movement of Alexei’s arm thrusting a bayonet straight into her throat. "You are no longer useful to me."

There would only be a minor delay before his troupe would be able to head south in the morning. He would leave her body until the morning, one of the performers would find her and see that bayonet and assume one of the townies had done it. The local sheriff would come to this same conclusions within a few hours after searching the sleeper cars and wagons, and with some well placed observations by Alexei as he accompanied them, after all the bayonet was a Union Infantryman’s, and none of his lot served in the war. Many men in that dingy town had though before returning to their jobs at the paper mill. And, well, the cops won’t know that Alexei had one of his boys lift it from a house in town during the show that night. Every show he sent them out, taking only a trinket here and there, some money if there was some to have, but never all so as to go unnoticed for awhile, but that night he had asked specifically for a blade. Either the Sheriff will connect the bayonet to that house and that poor bastard would hang for the murder, or the whole incident goes unsolved. Either way that fat fan dancer would end up in a paupers grave, and he would be rid of that woe for good.

The blood trickled out of the wound in her neck and in a steady stream flowed down her chest and between her plump breasts. The angle of the blade could not have been more accidentally perfect. Alexei had missed both artery and vein as well as her spine, only going through her windpipe. She gasped for air, she couldn’t breath, she couldn’t scream. The bayonet blocked most of the blood flow but some still started to fill her lungs. With her eyes wide open in terror she knew she was dead as she blacked out and collapsed to the ground in a flabby heap of corpse.

“Once so beautiful.” Alexei remarked watching her last breaths bubble from the wound in her throat, and her fat body go limp in death.