House arrest

chapter 1

Ivy was fresh out of high school. It was late July when she walked out of the nightclub in her high heels, which boosted her to a height of 5'7. Normally, she stood 5'3 and weighed 110 pounds. She carried most of the weight in her perky breasts, but her ass was nice and round, fleshy, but far from saggy. Her slender, pale thighs protruded from beneath her black bedazzled dress. She lifted one leg up into her jeep, and then another, sitting down with a plop. The sound was a combination of her ass cheeks smacking the leather driver's seat and her breasts kissing the top of her flat stomach. She didn't wear a bra, she never had and said that she never would.
It was ten minutes later when she was pulled over.
"How much have you had to drink?" the chunky female officer inquired.
"I drink lots of water," Ivy replied.
But it was no use. She was clearly drunk. Her light blue irises floated in the blood shot whites of her eyes.
A search of the vehicle turned up an extensive amount of cocaine, a scale, and multiple baggies. Ivy was booked into jail with a list of various felonies.
Once in her cell, her handcuffs were removed from her slender wrists. A tray filled with pasta, potatoes, and what kind of looked like meat was brought in. Still suffering from the drunken munchies, she devoured every bite.
The next morning, she was brought some shitty offbrand pancakes, an apple, and some oatmeal. She only ate the oatmeal and the apple. For lunch, they brought her ramen noodles and bread. She ate that meal out of boredom. 'Food is the only fucking thing to break the monotony in here,' Ivy thought.
That afternoon, she was arraigned via a video conference with the judge. The shrewd old judge told her that she faced up to 5 years in prison if convicted on all counts. Ivy's badass demeanor was shattered. She was terrified. Tears rolled down her gentle cheeks and over her plump red lips.
Once back in her cell, she finally remembered her friend's phone number. She got through, and soon she met with a bail bondsman, and she was released.
"Fuck, Jessica, thank you so much! I was going to lose my shit in there."
"Hey, that's what friends are for. How about we go get some real food?"
Ivy's face lit up. "I'm game for that! I'd say let's get some bud and get lit, but they're fucking drug testing me before I've even been convicted."
"That's how it goes, but you don't need drugs to have fun, do you?"
Ivy thought for a second. "Well, not anymore, I guess."
The two pretty girls pulled into a Taco Bell drive thru. They both ate in the car as they went to Ivy's grandmother's apartment, where Ivy lived. Before her run in with the law, she was never there. She slept there about once a week. The rest, she was on one couch or the next after some wild party, or she slept in her jeep, or in a tent somewhere off in the woods while high on mushrooms or whatever else she may have gotten her hands on. Though it sounds that she was a trashy drug abuser, her looks certainly did not indicate such. I suppose it was good for her that she was caught at only 18 years old, before her lifestyle could catch up with her.
"You wanna watch a movie?" Ivy asked her friend.
"Nah, I have to go. I got a tinder date," Jessica replied.
"Ohh, okay." Ivy went off inside. She went to her freezer, grabbed a tub of vanilla ice cream, and watched Shameless on her laptop until she dozed off to sleep.
When she awoke, she called all of her friends in an attempt to make plans, but all of their plans involved drugs or going on a road trip. Ivy could not do drugs, and she couldn't go too far because she never knew when she would have to go to court to take a drug test in the morning. She felt trapped. She cried that day. She ate more ice cream. This routine of hers continued for two weeks.
It was the day before her court date, August 11th. She had been notified that she needed to go take a drug test.
"Ivy! Hurry the fuck up! We're gonna be late," Her grandma yelled.
Ivy said nothing, as she stood behind her closed bedroom door, trying to button her pants. "Fuck! I've gotten fat this goddamn soon?!" she spoke quietly to herself. "I'm coming grandma, I just have to use the bathroom!"
There, she weighed herself. The scale said 122. It was as if her metabolism had been high on uppers, and then suddenly became lethargic, just like what had happened to Ivy herself. Tears poured down her soft cheeks once again. She grabbed her soft, silky black hair and cried, looking up to the ceiling. "Noo!" she moaned between sobs. She looked back down at the scale. It still read 122. She saw the shrewd face of the judge in that scale. She heard him say, "No! You can not be a skinny hot little drug dealer, you need to become fat like the rest of us!" Ivy was literally losing her shit.
She went to her bedroom, found a floral patterned dress, threw it on, and didn't dare look at the small pot belly that showed ever so slightly through the fabric.
She pissed in the cup as the woman watched. She went back home, and started to pack her things. She called her friend in the neighboring town, and he came to pick her up.
"Damn, you look a lot sexier than the last time I saw you," Keith said right after she climbed into his car.
"Do I? I thought I'd gotten chubby."
"No, I mean I guess you're slim thick now. Just a little bit. I don't know, I dig it."
Ivy smiled uneasily.

Her and Keith lived together in his studio apartment for the next 3 months. She had pretended as if her run in with the law never occurred. She went back to the same lifestyle she had before. She sold her jeep, spent the money on drugs, and made a casual living selling it at nightclubs and hotel parties. She lost the weight she had gained, to Keith's disappointment, but she felt more confident than ever before. She felt as if she was some badass who is immune to the long arm of the law. That is, until she was set up.
It was a hotel party on Thanksgiving night. Ivy wore a tight red dress. She had just bought it, and it hugged every miniscule curve of her now 108 pound frame. Guys were all over her, but she had no interest in sex. She wanted to make some cash. Unfortunately, an undercover police officer there wanted to make an arrest. He did. She found herself back in that cell eating noodles.
Ivy was arraigned again, notified of her outstanding warrants, and told that her bail would now be $50,000. She was fucked. So, she remained incarcerated for 2 weeks until her pre-trial.
Once she arrived in the general population of the jail, she noticed that many of the girls were overweight. Still hearing the shrewd judge in her paranoid mind saying, "Get fat like the rest of us!", she made a point to not eat too much, and to get an adequate amount of exercise. Her cellmate thought she was nuts. Ivy was always on the floor of the 8x10 cell doing crunches and other ab workouts, squats, push ups, burpees, etc.
"Who are you tryna impress?" LaTicia, her cellmate asked her.
"Nobody, I just don't want to get fat," Ivy replied.
"Well shit, everyone gets a little chunky up in here. You get out, slim down, you thick, and then you can get any type of dick you want. I like jail for that."
"I just don't think I'd look good with extra weight. I like how thick girls look, but I wouldn't like that look on me. I like to feel thin and pretty and free."
Laticia snorted and laughed. "Ain't nothin free about the either of us."
Regardless, Ivy continued her strenuous workouts and remained 108 pounds when she was brought into the court.
The judge was not happy with Ivy, but he agreed to have her released under one condition: house arrest.
Ivy let out a deep sigh.
An hour later, a black ankle bracelet was fitted around her slender ankle. She was released to her grandmother, and she was ordered to not leave her grandmother's residence without court given permission, or she would go to prison for 5 full years.