Chapter 1 - Zaria’s Ball

Zaria’s knees lay atop the foam bathroom mat which separates her from the cold tile floor. She grabs a piece of toilet paper, tearing beyond the serrated edge. She folds the toilet paper once, tucks in the jutting out piece into the front, where it fit so perfectly without overlap. The paper was destined to always tear that direction, at least then and the time before it.

She folds the toilet paper once more to an adequate thickness. Using the paper to wipe off her mouth. She cleaned off what she could, then threw the used paper to the toilet to be flushed alongside what else it contained.

Moving to the sink she inspected her coiled dark brown hair for any spots. She then washed her face. Once dried, she washes her hands and exits the bathroom.

She pulls a mint from a half-full display across the hall, and pops it into her mouth. If she were to walk to the left she would find a long line of single family portraits arranged like a map in the hall. The greatest of grandfathers portrait sat the highest, with his wife’s to the side and slightly below it. Only the first living daughter appeared on the portraits, and the sons would need to be sent to another home once of age to marry into another family. The greatest of grandmother’s daughter, sat entirely below and to the side of her mother, with her husband in between and up a bit, vertically overlapping with her mother. This pattern continued up until Zaria, where she sat, completely beneath her mother, separated by the space of one picture frame, to be filled by that of a suitor.

To her right was the ballroom, where Zaria was going to meet a suitor tomorrow, and she had to look healthy, if that were a word to describe it. Donations by all of the suitors was required upon entry. Some did the bare minimum, others did large amounts to wow Zariah in effort to become her husband. Not that it would have any bearing on her choice.

The donations’s Zaria’s mother received from this very same event has helped support both her mother and herself. As of today, there was nothing left of the money except the money spent to host this ball, and the last bit of remaining food which Zaria was going to be stuffed.

Turning left at the mints, Zaria went all the way to the end of the hall where there was a staircase. She turned and walked into a door on the right which was an accessibility closet under the stairs. The closet had a secret passage which she walked into.

The room was almost entirely cement, similar to that of a dungeon, with her mother sat perfectly in the middle next to the feeding station.

“Zaria!” Her mother yelled. “That’s not a mint I smell is it? You know you need to take this seriously, you need to be as plump as possible.”

“But mother, I’m already larger than you were for the ball.” Zaria whined.

“Honey, we’ve had this argument before, you are the weight that you are because of me. I didn’t have the money to gorge myself on gourmet food for the first 19 years of my life.” Zaria’s mother politely snapped back. “Now put on this new feeding tube.”

The feeding tube that her mother handed her had a ball gag at the end. It appeared to let food in but not out. Zaria had taken a seat onto the feeding station. She sank into the many feet of foam cushions. The foam was firm, but her body exerted a force to sink her all the way through the cushions when sitting upright. She barely touched the floor, but it was impressive that she was the only one in her family thus far to accomplish this. She sprawled out onto the foam cushions without further instruction as it was procedure, it was the last time she would be doing this. Her large body was hugged by the cushions making her feel near weightless despite that being far from the truth.

Liquids flowed down from the tube into Zaria’s mouth. She took it like a professional for the longest time, filling her up to where she once was. As soon as she drank more than from last session she started to roll back and forth on her back groaning in discomfort. Her mother then adjusted the knob to near stop.

This has been Zaria’s life for the past 2 weeks leading up to the ball. Finally this was the closest thing to a break, and she was able to pass out with the feeding tube locked to her mouth slowly trickling the last of her food.

Her mother patiently sat beside her, ensuring she was safe during her slumber. And a slumber it was, Zaria slept for 16 hours, where her stomach grew to proportions that nobody has seen in her family.

When Zaria awoke, she needed assistance with getting up, and walking, and pretty much everything. Her stomach jutted in the way of everything. Her mother detached the tube, keeping the gag for retention.

Slowly but surely, Zaria is led upstairs to her mother’s room. Each step came in massive swings, thumping on the ground and reverberating through the fat on her body. The room was lit with afternoon light, the ball was now closer than ever. Her mother pushed back many different dresses of identical style, a sequin lace jade colored long sleeve gown Zaria had picked out many years prior. Her mother pushed back nearly 20 different smaller sizes, which there was only one dress larger than the one she grabbed.

Zaria raised her arms and her mother helped slip it into her frame. Her mother helped maneuver the dress into each arm before zipping up the back. It pressed into her belly slightly, but not so much that it was too small.

Zaria looked into the mirror entranced as her mother started on her hair. She looked at her face, puffy and round, her arms jiggly and fat pressed up against the transparent floral patterns on her arms, and her legs squished together by the gown, forced to hold up her bloated tummy. Her whole life she was counting endlessly, pounds into the 300s, calories to the 4,000s. This is what it was all for. She now had done everything in her power to live to societies’ expectations, and she felt empowered by it.

As her hair was finishing up, her mother took off her gag keeping the last 16 hours of food in, it now probably held no use with how long it’s been since she’s been up. Her mother did her hair in cornrow braids with curls. Her look was simple and effortless, elegant but not overpowering. Following suit, the makeup was also simple and clean, foundation, eyeliner, and lipgloss.

By now the suitors were appearing and queuing up at the doors. Her mother walked her down the steps and down the hallway to the ballroom, where she sat aside her mother and father at a table.

Over the course of the afternoon, many men danced alongside their mothers to impress Zaria. There was no need for them to come to her, they already have, they were at her ball, for her. Her mother trained her to search for short men, so the blessing to carry weight would be passed on. Zaria then proceeded to find and dance with every short man, marking a list of people she would then have a year to date all she can, before deciding to marry.

Zaria now was exhausted from carrying her bloated belly and swaying it all afternoon. As quickly as the people came in, they left. Zaria had now finished the single most stressful night of her life, and now her family had the money to support her family for one more generation. She now had a year to be free and pampered before she would transition into a wife, and then mother.