A Gift From Aunt Rhodesia

Chapter 1 - the reading of the will

Jasmine sat uncomfortably in the foyer of her aunt's house in London. Or in her house now, she supposed. She hadn't seen dear Aunt Rhodesia in years and years, not since she was a child. She felt a bit guilty now, about never visiting, now that her aunt had passed away. She glanced at a photograph of Rhodesia on the mantle. Rhodesia had been horribly, hideously overweight. She sat on a couch, as she had for most of her life, buried in her own body. Huge blubbery hips almost as wide as the couch, an enormous belly hanging out from beneath huge, pendulous breasts. Pudgy little hands were trapped at the ends of arms as wide as tree trunks and as flabby as pudding. In the photo she seemed to be enjoying herself, fork raised, staring longingly at a plate of chocolate cake in her hand.

"Figures," scoffed Jasmine to herself. She remembered Rhodesia always trying to feed her sweets and chocolates whenever her family visited. But it hadn't worked. Unlike her disgusting aunt, Jasmine had something called self-control. She stood up and walked over to a mirror on the wall to admire her own slender form. Jasmine had huge green eyes above a pouting mouth in a heart shaped face framed by long, raven-black hair. Her eyes were the largest thing about her. She was rail thin from head to toe, the only bits of fat on her were her cute round butt and her perky a-cup breasts. Even her cheeks were hollow. It had taken years of starving herself and exercising 3 hours a day but it had paid off. She was now one of the highest-paid models in London.

"Auntie just didn't understand," Jasmine thought. "She always wrote asking why I never came to visit. Maybe if she'd stopped with the sweets once in a while, or gone on a diet. Ugh, what a pig." All in all, it was a bit surprising Auntie had left her anything in her will, considering they hadn't spoken in over 10 years. But then, Jasmine's parents had passed away, and Rhodesia hadn't had any other relatives, so there really wasn't anyone else, was there?

*ahem.*

Jasmine broke out of her reverie and turned from the mirror, to see her aunt's solicitor standing at the door, beckoning her into the dining room.

Finally! Jasmine grinned evilly. She was sure to inherit the estate. All these knicknacks would go first. Then maybe she would convert one of the enormous pantries into a gym.

She seated herself primly at the enormous dining table, directly across from the lawyer, who began to read.

"I, Rhodeisa Puddingmore, being of sound mind and body..."

Jasmine hated legalese. Get on with it!

"To my dear niece Jasmine, my last surviving relative. If only you had come to visit me more. Family has to stick together. And the way you starve yourself, it's not healthy. I see your pictures in those magazines. Anyway, it's been ten years and you have not answered one of my letters, though I did notice you cashed the checques I sent you for Christmas each year. Nonetheless I can practically consider you estranged. Imagine abandoning your dear auntie in her old age, your dear sweet auntie, who had nothing but love in her heart and hugs and bonbons to give you. So it is with heavy heart and thighs that I am leaving my estate, the majority of my belongings, and my financial holdings to a trust which will give an annual donation to feed the unfortunate in our community.

"As for Jasmine, I do so love you and I want you to be happy. I'm leaving you this one item. I hope it brings you what you deserve. Your just desserts, as it were."

At this, the solicitor reached into his jacket and produced a small, ornate wooden box, with inlaid pearl and goldwork. A small intricate latch held the box closed.

"A stupid box, that's all I get?" Shouted Jasmine indignantly. "What an old fat hag. I'm glad I never visited her!"

She snatched up the box and stormed out. It probably contained some ugly piece of jewelry. At least she could probably pawn it for a few pounds. If it was a necklace or bracelet that fit Rhodesia, it would have to be worth a fortune in material alone, just to be long enough to have reached around her fat.

That evening, back at her own flat, Jasmine slumped herself down in a chair at her kitchen table and stared at the box.

"Well, may as well see what's in it." She said. She touched the latch and it popped open, revealing... revealing...

A fork! A stupid fork. To be fair, it was a gold fork, or perhaps just gold-plated. It was very ornate though, with gems inlaid into the handle. She could probably hock it and get a few pounds.

But there was something about it. She found her hand drawn to the fork and before she knew it she had grabbed it and was gazing at it, as if hypnotized. Her stomach grumbled. All she'd eaten today was two leaves of lettuce and a bit of whipped egg white.

There was a cake on the table in front of her. Where had it come from? A giant cake, taking up most of the table. It had multiple tiers, like a wedding cake. Her tiny kitchen table seemed to groan under its weight. Her thoughts seemed confused. "Cake...what? Disgusting!" And yet, she was salivating, and before she knew what was happening the fork had stabbed into the cake and a giant giant bite of gooey, frosting-covered cake had been shoved into her mouth.

It was the best thing she'd ever tasted. It melted in her mouth even as the bite filled it completely. So creamy, so sugary. It tasted like ten orgasms. But this was wrong, it was so wrong...

"Mmmmmmmmmmmph." She murmured, as without even thinking she scooped up another huge bite of cake and shoved it into her mouth. And another, and another...

In the distance, under the sound of contented grunts and cake, you could just faintly hear the sound of her aunt laughing.