Chapter 2

Pooran was quite in denial that she was no longer in shape to perform the same ruse as the year before. The days the other brides found her naivety charming were long gone, and the general sentiment went from pity to loathing toward this ravenous glutton that ate herself into obesity in the span of only two years. However, her fall into decadence gave an idea to the eldest bride, a stunning blonde priestess whom had been craving more attention from the Divine. She devised a plan to use Pooran to gain more time with the Sun divinity, under the guise of helping the fool in her futile game.

When the Divine Sun returned for the second day of truce, Pooran was led to the palace’s cellars, going down the small staircase under the guidance of the more mature bride. Squeezing her fleshy hips past the narrow doorway, the overfed young bride sat on a pile of cushion, hidden deep in the palace’s belly, and waited in the company of mead and wine. When at last the Divine Sun went for the expected game of hide and seek, the other bride, whom had dyed her hair and put on a veil, played the part of the younger Pooran, quickly getting caught on purpose by her deity. Feigning a genuine erotic game, she made the Divine Sun put on a blindfold, and had her way with the entity like she wanted, while Pooran slept in a drunken haze in the cellars, her rotund body taking most of the space. When the day was spent, the Sun Brides were once again left alone as their patron returned to their heavenly duel. Another year would pass until Pooran’s excesses would be at risk of being exposed.

Without surprise, none of these events triggered any change in Pooran’s lifestyle for her third year spent in the solar palace. By this time, the enormous bride was no longer only eating to sustain her culinary curiosity, but to keep her ravenous appetite at bay. After years of stuffing, she was properly insatiable, her stomach turned into an abyssal pit that growled in anger after a mere hour without food. Hunger made an ironic comeback in Pooran’s life, but now she could feel it by merely not being full enough. She spent more time feasting than ever, often being handled by avian servants, or occasionally another bride out of morbid curiosity. She seldom left her personal chambers, only getting up for short walks toward the baths or the feasting hall, and she no longer jogged to be the first to get to the dessert, for anything faster than a slow lumbering waddle was now impossible.

Pooran’s belly had grown even heavier since her time in the cellar, and it was now inching its way to her knees, while her buttocks were now so fat and well-padded she struggled to get up by her own power, so heavily anchored she was by their mass. Her breasts were beyond sanity, big enough to make an earth goddess blush from jealousy, and heavy enough that she struggled to lift one without using both hands. As the end of her third year neared, she surpassed mere obesity to turn into the fattest mortal in this time and age, an avatar of excess and opulence in a world where hunger was assumed.

In that context, the other Sun Brides should have been wiser than to assume they could keep Pooran hidden, but they drank the tale of the last truce stratagem and for them, the obese young damsel represented one less competitor to share the Divine Sun’s attention with. They convinced themselves they could keep fooling their host year after year, reproducing the ruse used by their senior and getting more time with their master. Their duplicity wouldn’t go unpunished.

When the Divine Sun returned at last, after another year of endless combat, they wanted nothing more than to finally see the face of the young Pooran, the mysterious bride that became their favourite through her games and mysterious ways. Made impulsive by the long wait, turned restless after day dreaming of this reunion for months, the mighty entity ignored the protocol and asked to see Pooran right away, storming through the palace, majestic and terrible in their lust and love. The brides tried to distract them, for Pooran wasn’t yet hidden in the cellar, but there wasn’t much time left.

While six brides were luring the Divine on false paths and dead ends, the five others were helping Pooran escape her chambers and trying to get her to her hideout. The enormous Sun Bride was now so immensely fat she struggled to move at any descent pace, and she was half-dragged, half-carried by the five toned women. It was an odd spectacle to say the least, to see the athletic and slender ladies pushing on her mushy bum, pulling on her ham sized arms, and supporting her enormous curves by armful to help her waddle faster. The contrast was intense, for the five women together were barely outweighing the humongous butterball that was the youngest of them all.

Huffing and puffing, and already menacing to reveal their position with her earth shaking steps, Pooran finally reached the staircase to the cellar, but as she was about to step into the passage, she was immediately stopped in her track as her thick love handles bit into the door frame, far too plump to squeeze through.

Confused, the five other brides watched as their blubbery comrade overflowed the narrow doorway, even her breasts slightly too big to fit in. One year prior, she managed to slip through, but she had grown enormously in these twelve months. Frantic, they tried to turn her sideways, to push her belly, to cram her inside with all the strength they could muster, but she was too fat, too deliciously obese to even get stuck in the doorway. She couldn’t even begin to fit through, and as she was shoved too harshly against the stone, she whimpered in pain, and soon, the Divine Sun dawned upon them, catching the group off guard as they stormed into the palace, solar flares appearing in the edge of their halo from disappointment, wrath, and disgust.

The Divine Sun immediately understood the charade they had been served, and their anger was great, immense, in proportion with the offending ingrate they saw flaying powerlessly in their light, and the eleven snakes that lied to cover this infamy. Light turned to fiery rays, and with every scream, fire spread through the palace, turning drapes and furniture to ash and embers, and melting stone and glass like butter. The wives ran, all of them, fleeing the devastation they all brought upon themselves. Toned legs and nimble bodies quickly reached the edges of the burning solar palace, where avian servants waited in anguish. Knowing it was the end, the winged creatures decided to flee with the damsels, judging the gorgeous brides undeserving of such an awful fate as to burn alive in a god’s anger.

By pairs, the bird-like creature grabbed the women by the arms, and with a flutter of wings, hauled them into the sky, slowly bringing them down to the surface of the earth, to safety and rescue. The creatures were strong and disciplined, and they quickly saved the eleven women, but as Pooran busted from the burning palace, red faced and buried in quivering flesh, the pair that remained exchanged a worried glance. Huffing and puffing, the cow sized beauty lumbered through the courtyard, her pendulous gut slapping against her knees each time she tried to move faster. Her swaying breasts throwing her out of balance, she collapsed on hands and knees near the edge of the floating palace, her decadent stomach spreading under her body, so fat it hung low enough to rest heavily on the stone pavement.

Slowly, the solar paradise tipped, sending Pooran slipping into the sky below, unable to catch her fall with her fat laden limbs. With a scream of terror, she felt her obese form plummet through the emptiness, while the two avian servants dived to attempt to catch her fall. Talon like feet grasped her plump wrists, and the pair expended their wings to slow her fall and hopefully gain some lift. Sadly, what was enough to fly a slender damsel couldn’t suffice to carry a woman of Pooran’s girth, and no matter how much the avian creatures struggled, they couldn’t slow her fall, and with a sad cry of powerlessness, they let her go, falling through the sky toward the arid expanse of a desert.

As the beautiful and enormous girl fell to her doom, her fear and despair attracted the attention of many gods, whom couldn’t help but feel ashamed by the Sun’s outburst. The first to come to Pooran’s aid was the Great Wind, whom unleashed their mightiest upward gust in an attempt to save the decadent mortal, whose only crime had been to enjoy life too fully. Sadly, even the strongest wind was too weak to fight the results of Pooran’s three years of revelries, and the sky god backed away, saddened.

The second god to come to Pooran’s aid was the Gentle Rain, whom clouds were of velvet softness. They attempted to weave a cushion of cloud under the girl’s rotund form, but she busted trough like an arrow through soft clay, her overfed body too plump and heavy for such a diaphanous mattress. The Rain was surprised, for they often welcomed mortal on cloudy beds, not unlike the solar palace. Yet, this poor girl was simply too heavy for the fragile sky cloth.

At least, as her fall drew nearer to the earth, Pooran caught the eye of the Desert God, cursed by the Divine Sun into an arid land unkind to all life. For aeons, the Desert languished the curves and folds adorning the bodies of their kin from fertile lands. They were earth gods, yet the Desert was no more fertile than the sky above. The cursed god saw in Pooran’s body their dreams come true. Her body was a topography of dunes, valleys, hills, and canyons, like an homage composed to the Desert’s glory. She brought with her lifetimes of bounty; so much abundance couldn’t be gathered in the arid sands, even in centuries. She was a blessing, and the Desert God wasn’t going to let plummet to her death. With a loving hand, the land itself reached for the sky, gigantic fingers and a titanic arm forming a gentle slope of silk-like sand. Pooran landed on the opened palm, and slowly rolled down the divine arm, until her fall was caught, softly, gently, into a bath of sand.

It is said that Pooran cried of relief once she realized that she made it alive from the solar palace, and that her tears filled the depression formed by her landing, creating the first of all the oasis. The former Sun Bride was then embraced by the Desert God as their sole spouse, and her abundance lifted the curse cast by the Divine Sun, bringing life again in the dunes, and especially in the islands of plenty that were the oasis. To these days, Pooran is no longer known by her mortal name, but instead as the Fruitful Oasis, a fertility goddess worshipped by any traveller fearing the Sun’s wrath.

*

The End