Chapter 5 - the talk of the town

Six months after they had last seen them, both girls were transported to the statehouse in New York City. Neither side has seen their Miss America candidate in all that time, and therefore, neither side knew what to expect.

The last six months had been a blast for Betsy. The buxom beauty had truly enjoyed the company of the New York Attorney General. Burr didn't live far from her house, meaning that he was able to visit often, something she thoroughly enjoyed.

The reason for her enjoyment was that she hadn't lost a single pound or done a single minute of exercise. She didn't start eating better. She didn't stop going out to the taverns. In fact, she did the opposite.

She spent entire days at the local bars, knocking down bottle after bottle of liquor and eating plate after plate of unhealthy food. She would only return home at night, where Burr would be waiting for her.

Despite having been friends for the previous two decades, Burr had always had a deep-rooted resentment for Hamilton. He hated to see Hamilton succeed at everything he did, so when he was given the opportunity to sabotage the Treasury Secretary and hurt him in the eyes of the president, he decided to take it.

Burr worked as an enabler to Betsy's unladylike habits. He worked hard to keep her drunk and stuffed at all times, often pouring entire bottles of bourbon down her throat as she sat back in a chair, rubbing her taut tummy. In her drunken state, he would feed her until she was ready to burst, unable to resist or say no with her mind drowning in alcohol.

Every late night binge session stretched her stomach out, making here need more food to stay sated, which she never was. She could eat and drink all day, which she usually did. Her belly would grow larger and would slosh with every labored step she took. Her breathing grew husky, as did the rest of her, as her breath constantly reeked of booze.

Burr had changed her from a woman who enjoyed a good meal and a stiff drink to an alcoholic food addict who needed copious amounts of both just to survive. He pumped her full of both until she couldn't get up from her chair. Then until the chair collapsed under her immense weight.

After about the third month of him 'assisting' her, she stopped leaving the house, unable to walk straight without falling over. As her drinking and her weight kept her confined to her home, Burr remained persistent, stuffing her into a stupor until her stomach couldn't take anymore. She was so wrapped up in the pleasure of the food and the liquor that she didn't even notice what he was doing to her.

Betsy had simply been a chubby party animal when Hamilton and Knox sent Burr to supervise her. Now she had become an obese pig of a woman. By the end of the year, she was bedridden, pinned down under her own mammoth-like weight. Her belly rolled down past her knees when laid in bed, as it piled high to block her blurry double-vision view of the wall in front of her. Her sizable breasts, which had once drew the eye of every man in the bar, now hung heavily to the sides of her immense physique, sagging off the bed that had broken beneath her some time ago, allowing her massive melons to press down on the floor beside her.

Her mind had deteriorated quite a bit under Burr's influence, having no concept of time or even where she was most of the time. She forgot a lot of things, like what her life had been like before meeting Burr. All she was capable of thinking of was food, booze, and pleasure; which Burr happily provided.

To him, she was his crowning achievement. He was proud of what he had done. For the first time in his life, he had beaten Hamilton. He had turned his rival's Miss America into his personal hog. Every time he rubbed her bloated middle as she squealed out in a mindless haze of gluttony-induced climax, he knew he had won. He knew it was a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but it felt just as sweet as any other.