Chapter 7

The attendees where fleeing around the duo, Nymeria and Tamyana looking for a path out to escape the human cops and the dangerous chaos of the rally. The obese elf had just suggested climbing the stairs to find some exit, maybe a fire escape, but the toned half-orc wasn't so sure about this plan.

Tamyana shook her head. ‘‘No… You are not going up.’’ She poked a lean finger deep into Nymeria’s overflowing belly for emphasis. ’’Everyone is rushing there, and I am fairly sure moving all of this lard upward is even harder than getting you to run. You will get trampled, and even if you make it up there…’’ She nervously scoffed, her small tusks shining in the neon light. ‘’I don’t think you are much good at parkour, am I right? You will break your neck trying to follow us. Nah, there must be another way.’’

Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she grabbed Nymeria's hand. The tall half-orc started to drag the short elf down a hallway, her long dark hair flowing behind her as she pulled hard to keep the fat girl moving. "Come on, there is a cellar! There's an access hatch behind the old bar. If we can get down there, we can get out into the sewers and from there we could pop out anywhere in the city. It’s the only chance you got.’’ Her confidence was back, and she was leading the way. All that Nym needed to do was to keep up and follow, which was easier said than done when one girl was a head shorter and more than three times heavier, with hips so wide she kept bumping both sides of the hallway as they ran.

Of course, Tamyana was right, Nym had once again failed to account for her own limitations. The overfed elf girl didn’t argue with the toned activist, knowing the half-orc’s first-hand experience with that kind of situation was priceless. The blue haired poser could have taken offense of the quip at her size, but the truth was that she shared the other girl’s worries. If there was no fire escape upstairs, there wasn't a chance she could jump on another building, not when she could barely clear a few inches off the ground on her best leap. Waddling as fast as her chubby legs could manage, the blubbery punk followed Tamyana through the hallway, half dragged by the athletic girl’s much faster pace until their got out in the open again, right in front of a storage room.

The obese elf immediately began trying to squeeze her bloated figure inside, with the toned orcish girl pushing with a shoulder to help. As she was halfway through, Nym almost got rammed by a panicked troll rushing toward the relative safety of the hallway, only to see the large male drop in convulsions, taken down by a point-blank rubber bullet right on the back of the head. Any smaller non-human might have been killed on the spot. The cops were spreading away from the front stage and scattering with the crowd now, hunting down activists and attendees for arrests and elimination.

Some just got Tamyana and Nym on sight, but they got distracted by a rain of bullets that mowed through three of them from the stage itself, leaving pink mist in the clouds of tear gaz. It was that older giant lady that made the first speech. She was packing heat, and clearly she didn’t shy away from shooting at the SWAT team, her oversized handgun turning body armor into papier-mâché. Taking cover behind a speaker, the old-timer gave the escaping crowd some precious time, even if her last stand didn’t last long. By the time the two girls reached the cellar hatch and Tamyana pulled it open, the giant was bleeding from more than a dozen bullet wounds, death mere seconds away.

Sitting on the edge of the hatch, Nymeria slipped through the opening without thinking twice. Unfortunately for her, the opening was wide enough for her hips to squeeze through, but as her belly oozed over the trapdoor edges, the weight of her lower body wasn’t quite enough to pull her through. Luckily, Tamyana had stepped to the side to keep watch as Nym slipped down. After all, getting the huge pile of lard that was Nym's stomach through the door was obviously going to take some help and Tamyana figured it would be easier, and for that matter safer, to help from above rather than try and pull from below. She quickly pushed on the fat punk’s shoulders, the extra pressure just enough to squeeze the widest roll through the hole with an oozing sound.

The obese elf girl landed down the cellar with a heavy thud, her legs immediately giving under her weight as she dropped a few feet. Out of breath from the emotions as much as the running, Nym pushed her blue hair from her eyes and slowly pulled herself back up, looking up with all her elven senses in alert to be sure no one was following them. Bullets had been flying around the stage. Real ones. The plump girl even got peppered with metallic debris from the projectiles, causing some light cuts on her huge exposed stomach.

Above the trapdoor, Tamyana’s athletic figure was no more than a silhouette against the light. Nym looked up, her plump arms crossed around her enormous breasts in a subconscious display of fear and insecurity. She signed the half-orc to come join her, but shouting were heard, and the activist suddenly released the trapdoor, turning away from the hole and pulling a knife. The muzzle flash of a gun reflecting on the blade was the last thing Nymeria saw before the trapdoor closed with a metallic clang.

The young elf was plunged into darkness and a moment later the loud crash of something heavy landing on the trapdoor echoed through the cellar, a small amount of grit falling from the ceiling and peppering Nymeria's exposed body. She heard Tamyana scream something and running steps above her.

Nymeria raised an arm to protect her purple eyes from the grit and dust falling from the ceiling, coughing in the dark cellar, alone and properly lost by this turn of events. Tamyana seemingly dropped something heavy on the trapdoor, which meant she intended to cover her escape route and find another one for herself. That was not what Nym would have preferred, she wasn’t very fond of wandering the underground all by herself. Still, she had to trust the half-orc’s instinct; the athletic girl was more experienced and knew better what was best to do with murder cops at their heels.

It took a moment for Nym to orient herself in the cellar. The darkness wasn’t much of an issue, her elven eyes quickly adjusting to the luminosity, eventually even emitting a subtle purple glow to provide the minimal luminosity needed to detect her surroundings. The obese beauty wandered a moment, but she eventually found the connection going from the cellar to the sewers. It was a large rusty metal door followed by a flight of stairs. The plump elf had to struggle a little to pry the passage open, but once it was done, she could easily slip inside, her fattened hips only slightly brushing the doorframe as she went by. It seemed the passage had been meant for both workers and equipment, unlike the much smaller manholes used by the city’s blue collars.

Going down the stair wasn’t too hard, but it was a good thing something fell on the trapdoor, for Nymeria was exceptionally slow at navigating the steps. Without any handrail to stabilize herself, she was worried she could lose her footing. After all, with her enormous swaying breast in the way, she had no way to see where she was stepping, and her balance was horrendous.

With her prudent approach, she managed to reach the sewers without stumbling down the stairs, and she allowed herself to rest as she took in the new environment. Considering the semi-abandoned state of North Avenue, there was barely any waste water coming from the neighbourhood, but the place was still quite slippery, and the pathway very narrow on each side of the canal. If she didn’t want to end crawling in the suspicious muck that oozed down there, she would need to be careful.

That was easier said than done. With her massive size, walking a narrow path was quite the struggle for the blue-haired punk. Not only her thick thighs were doing all in their power to make her posture dangerously wide, but her curves were pushing her away from the wall and toward the gray waters. She really had to press her belly and bosom against the concrete and drag her fat figure step by step to move. The process was incredibly slow, and quite painful.

Before long, Nym was stuck with a dilemma. It was either scrapping her pale skin against the wall to the blood, or to endure the disgusting mud as she walked down in the canal. No matter how precious the pampered suburban girl was, her pain threshold wasn’t very high, and she was forced to surrender to her own fatness and get down into the flooded path, silently mourning her awesome custom-made boots as muck and wet sewage poured inside them. At least, she moved much faster now, which was good, since she was pretty sure she heard something echoing behind her.

Making steady progress despite her obese form turning the simple act of walking into a workout, Nym moved past a few rusty ladders on her way. Each time, she looked up, glancing at the manhole on top, only to keep walking, with increasing resignation. She was well aware she had no chance to even squeeze her bosom past the circular opening, even less her rolled gut.

Out of breath and feeling her knees and feet aching from the strain, the overfed elf finally found what she was looking for; the sewage exit, where the waste waters were pouring into the river. Most were condemned nowadays, in favor of new systems linked to water cleaning plants, but she was aware that kind of infrastructure was never prioritized in non-human sectors. She was in luck. The only issue was the rusty bars blocking the exit. Some of them had been removed a long time ago, probably by criminals wanting to use the sewer system for smuggling, but the opening it left was akin to about half the width of a doorway. Nym grabbed the bars in her chubby hands and tried to pop them out of their socked… but she could barely make them shake. She was trapped.