The big bellied dancer

chapter 3

“Ok, but you have to admit it’s weird,” Hannah, my goody-two-shoes roommate, told me the following morning. I’d left the invitation on the table. She’d found it before I’d woken up, and immediately started grilling me.

I loved Hannah, I really did. She’d been my roommate since Before - before the car crash, before my life completely went up in flames - and she was still by my side. She was also just a blissfully normal person whose parents had saved up for her college expenses, and who therefore didn’t understand why I was making the decisions I was.

“It’s really not that weird. I bet it’s someone who knows Mr. Sykes. He probably gave them my contact info,” I shrugged, even though we both knew Mr. Sykes was as likely to recommend me to another club as he was to cut off his greasy rattail.

“I wish you’d look for a normal job. The college is hiring in half a dozen office positions, and they’re happy to work with students on availability,” Hannah wheedled.

“Sorry, but the $11/hr wages they pay won’t even make a drop in the bucket. I’m not trying to become homeless,” I snorted, going into the living room to start doing stretches. My invitation was for that night, and I wanted to be limber to give it my all. I would not fuck up this opportunity.

“Ok, but you could still get murdered,” Hannah retorted.

“I’m not going to get murdered, Han. It’ll be fine. I’ll go in, check it out, shake my booty, and then we’ll decide whether I want to stay or not.”

“Have you even looked up the address?”

“Yes, of course I looked it up.” I switched sides, reaching my fingertips down to my toes with my legs spread wide. “And it’s just a normal club. It’ll be fine.”

Hannah sighed. “I’m just worried about you. You’re making risky and rash decisions.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got bills due and this is good money. At least, it should be… it better be.” I laid back on the floor, then pushed up into a backbend. My shirt rode up, exposing the tiniest sliver of stomach. I could feel Hannah’s eyes on it, and wondered if she thought I was fat, too.

“Show-off.” Hannah grumbled instead. She threw a crumpled up napkin into my side, and I laughed.

That night, I pulled a long coat over my favorite high-class stripper outfit. I tried quelling the nerves in my belly as I parked behind the building and headed in through the back like the invitation said.

Madame Carly was practically waiting in ambush. She was the most jaw-dropping woman I’d ever seen. Her makeup emulated drag queens, her outfit was an ornate steampunk-inspired burlesque affair with gears and steel, but what I couldn’t help focusing on was her sheer size. The woman took up most of the hallway with her massive curves: Each of her breasts probably weighed as much as my entire leg; her belly drooped low almost to her knees. She was wearing a massive brown and black corset with ruffles, but it did little to define a waist that was practically a mountain. While her hips were wide and her knockers could probably K.O a small child, her belly was the dominant feature. She grinned wide at me after letting me stare and take everything in.

“Welcome to Hedon, Iris.” Her voice was like gravelly silk. “I’m Madame Carly.”

“Hi.” I’d pictured a lot of things when imagining Hedon, but an SSBBW Madame running the show wasn’t one of them. Usually club owners and managers were sleazy men just looking to make a buck off the asses and titties of the entertainers. It was a gross underbelly. This, though? I was caught off-guard, but finally recovered.

“Thanks so much for inviting me to dance tonight. I really appreciate that you see potential in me.” I was practically rooted to the spot, still feeling awkward. Carly grabbed me by the arm and led me to the dressing rooms.

“Yes, well, when Michael told me why he’d let you go, I figured you’d be a perfect addition here. Can I help you with your coat?”

“I’ve got it.” It took me a minute to realize by ‘Michael,’ she meant Mr. Sykes. Interesting. “And why is that?” I pulled off my coat to reveal my outfit: a fake corset that was easily removable and a petticoat designed the same way, and thigh-high stockings.

“Ooh, you are perfect,” Carly cooed, looking me up and down before winking. “You’ll see when we reach the floor.”

More mysteries. I changed into my heels and touched up my make-up in the mirror, then followed Madame Carly’s planetary ass down the hallway. Music started pumping through the walls: a mix of electronica and house, with some violin mixed in as well. It was classy and high-brow while also keeping the standard “horny club” vibes.

When Madame Carly opened the doors leading out onto the floor, though, I gasped. The space was huge, with multiple stages set up for entertainers to perform. The building looked deceptively small and nondescript from the outside, but it was massive inside. More than its size was the actual scene in front of me. I’d entered a secret world where obesity was queen.

Every single person I saw within Hedon was fat. I don’t mean like me - a little pudge, just a freshman fifteen - but huge. Apron bellied women gyrated down poles with rolls of buttery, stretch-marked flab on display. Plus sized men in leather harnesses performed aerial acrobatics. And those were just the athletic ones. Multiple stages held the biggest people I’d ever seen, openly gorging on entire feasts of fattening delights. One woman whose round rump was spilling out from not one but two chairs - one ass cheek per chair - was practically finger painting on her belly with whipped cream and chocolate pudding.

And the crowds? They were eating it up. The place was packed! Spectators of all shapes, sizes, and genders were practically salivating for the performers, throwing wads of cash at the stages and begging the entertainers to be more, to grow, to continue down the path of shameless greed and gluttony. Meanwhile, the bar was serving up platters of food to hungry attendees, practically goading them to stuff their faces and grow as blubbery - as sexy - as the entertainment.

I’d never heard of anything like this, but my heart pounded in my chest with an odd, feral need anyway. I wanted to join in. I wanted to be a part of this bizarre underground where no matter what I weighed or what my body looked like, I wouldn’t be fired or judged. All I could think of were the people in my life who’d been snippy about my weight, like Jason and Mr. Sykes. Even before them, I’d never been the popular one at school thanks to my chubbiness. But here, at Hedon? It was an opportunity for an entirely new hierarchy, one I definitely didn’t mind participating in.

“Holy shit,” I breathed, continuing to gawk around the room. The more I looked, the more I saw: shirtless bartenders with beer bellies hanging low over their waistbands, apple-shaped servers in low-cut tops and high-cut shorts, thigh highs and heels bending over tables to serve cocktails and massive meals to patrons. There were hourglass beauties, too, but they were always, always at least a size 24. I was the skinny one. The runt.

An odd feeling swirled in my belly, a cross between butterflies, eagerness, and feeling like a fish out of water. Weight was a tricky subject to me. I came from a family of people who knew how to eat, and had never been considered skinny growing up. It wasn’t until the car crash, really, that I became a “normal” weight, and being a dancer had kept the pounds off– mostly. But a small part of me, the part that was bitter about losing my job for my body shape, the part that had subscribed to diet culture for years and that was always dreaming about just losing five pounds, the part of me that couldn’t really be happy not because I wasn’t happy but because the society I was enmeshed within wouldn’t be happy with me– it saw a beacon of hope on the floor stages of Hedon.

I felt Madame Carly’s soft, warm hand on my back. “This could be yours, if you’re willing to reach out and take it,” she murmured.

I gulped, still overwhelmed by everything I was seeing. But I nodded. “I want it. Dear god, do I want it.” I wasn’t much for prayer, but in that moment my words searched for any deity who would listen.

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The Big Bellied Dancer is available for purchase now! Get your copy here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09T8CTWWP