Chapter 1 - Prologue

Katrina’s Costume Collection: Fat Cat and Sexy Piggy

By BS Writer

Her watermelon-sized breasts pressed heavily against her plaid shirt. The cloth parted to display a massive amount of flesh spilling out of visibly overtaxed bra cups. The tops of breasts with fresh stretch marks showed even more pain as they attempted to heave themselves out of the far too small bra with each and every angry breath. Even through the bra, her chest was sporting two, large, obvious wet spots.

To say she was an unhappy customer would be an understatement. To say she was a fat one was an even bigger one. In her limited time working at Katrina’s, this particular customer had come out of the dressing room as the fattest that Mathilde had ever seen.

The plaid top was held in a way that could still vaguely but technically be called closed only by magic stored in a single mighty button. The dramatically positioned button was heroically keeping the dead center of the shirt closed, but all that did was give a distinct flair to the shirt as the top spread open to reveal most of her bra, and the bottom half flared out over and fully exposed her enormous belly.

The belly, which on many would have given way to two distinct folds, on this customer instead spilled out on one huge spare tire framed perfectly by the mostly open shirt. It rolled forward over the busted open flaps of her jean shorts. It rolled so far forward that it pushed the shirt upward which revealed two very full inches of pale, stretched out flesh. Her gelatinous gut was decorated by stretch marks that matched her billowy breasts.

Those shorts were painted on, and the paint was beginning to crack. Poorly contained thighs burst out from the legs of the frayed shorts. Where the flesh was forced to be enclosed by denim, it grew an angry shade of red. In the future, the problem of how to actually peel these pants off would become a more pressing one, but, at the time, the bigger issue on the customer’s mind was the largess of her cellulite covered thunder thighs which were pressed together by an amount of flab that also forced them apart into a permanently bow legged stance. They trapped her pants from below just like her massive muffin top spilled over and trapped it from above. In the middle square in the middle though extremely round in shape was her equally massive ass.

Her shelf of an ass was made with two globular ass cheeks whose structure was only maintained in the slightest by the tight fit of the denim shorts. Free of the confines of the shorts, the dimpled dumper would have flapped flabby and shapeless (unless one would consider LARGE to be a shape). Crammed into the shorts, her big booty did what it could to get some air. As part of that bold attempt, each cheek peaked through the bottom of the shorts as well as the top which stretched and pulled the back of the shorts down enough to reveal her ass crack even when she was standing straight and still. The only thing that might have served to distract from the exposed crack was the juicy roll of back fat that pushed its way out from under the ill fitting top.

That top was further strained by thick wobbly arms. Her arms were so full of fat that they were permanently pushed outward from her fat sides. The lard on her biceps melted over her elbows and flapped freely with the most minor of gesticulations.

These arms were perfectly mirrored down below by a thick set of cankles that had partly busted the boots the customer was wearing. And, while obscured by said boots, the woman’s feet were undoubtedly fat comeple with tubby toes that nicely complimented her sausage fingers.

Yes. Every bit of her was large except for the comically small straw hat that sat upon her fat head. The strap holding the small hat to her head was now well hidden by her round face. It was tucked away somewhere behind jowls and a multitude of chins.

“The cowgirl costume suits you well,” snorted Mathilde as she slapped her hand against the glass counter.

“This is crazy!” cried the woman who mere minutes ago was half Mathilde’s size and now was double it.

“I mean yeah. People don’t normally get whammied as hard as you right in the store like this. You must have done some real mean shit.”

“Change me back! Change me back, right now!” The customer’s fat cheeks grew red and her jowls jiggled with every angry word.

Mathilde couldn’t help but chuckle at the woman. Hell, she was fighting not to turn her laughter into a full blown maniacal villain cackle. (She had to maintain some sense of professionalism after all. Her last evil cackle had gotten her a stern talking to from her manager, and long ass boring lectures from Gwendolyyn was one of the worst punishments she could conceive of.) But this woman was making it difficult not to laugh full out.

She was the roundest woman Mathilde had ever seen. With her ass, her belly, and her breasts all forming spheres of their own, it was like the woman was a puzzle put together with globes of fat stacked on top of each other to somehow form the unifying shape of a boulder fit for Indiana Jones.

“Are you listening to me?!?”

Mathilde was, in fact, completely lost in a daydream at this particular moment. There was a very large part of her that wanted to be running her hands along the underside of this customer’s massive overhanging gut, to undulate it back and forth in waves and waves of fat. She wanted to bury her tongue in her belly button.

And there was another part of her that was thinking about how small her hands were compared to the woman’s overfilled beach ball-like breasts. Mathilde wanted to burrow her face into the gap between the woman’s heaving bosom, to curl up in her bra and live off milk leaking from her nipples. (Mathilde could feel herself leaking a bit at the thought of it all.)

And yet a third part of her still wondered what this woman would look like if she simply grew even larger and blew up and floated away like a parade balloon.

“I want to speak with your manager!”

Mathilde slammed both her palms flat against the counter as the cowgirl’s latest remark forced her out of her daydreaming.

“Now listen here, pardner,” sneered Mathilde.

“You absolutely do not want to do that.”

“I absolutely do.”

“I’m warning you. You don’t want-”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t want. Just do what I do want and go and get-”

“Lady!” Mathilde exclaimed before leaning closer and bringing her voice down to a harsh whisper.

“Who do you think cast the spell that led you in here? Who do you think maintains half the charms in this place? You have been cosmically chosen for karmic realignment, and she’s a big part of that. You really want to challenge her handiwork to her face? You’re already a human beach ball full of lard. You wanna find out how she can make that worse?!?”

The cowgirl’s jowls jiggled from side to side as she shook her head. They joined with her series of chins in a chorus of agreement that somewhere being this hugely obese was still better than whatever else might happen.

And it certainly would have been worse. Mathilde may have overstated some of Gwendolynn’s powers and contributions, but she was still the manager for a reason, and she would not have been pleased to be called to the register. Still… a part of Mathilde couldn’t help but wish that she had gone and gotten Gwen. She began to imagine what the manager would do to this foolish fatty…..

“I would like to go home now, please.”

Mathilde was once again snapped out of her daydream.

“Oh! Yeah. That’ll be sixty bucks.”

“For the costume?”

“And the lesson.”

The cowgirl handed over her card, wailing at the sight of her perfectly manicured sausage fingers as she did so. Mathilde gave it a swipe.

“Please sign to accept the charge.”