Mrs. sanders' big brunch

Chapter 1 - part 1: stoutness exercises

Winnifred lived in a small, cozy room on the ground floor of the big doll house. This was largely out of convenience, since stairs had a tendency to leave her huffing and puffing by the time she finished climbing them. The entrance to Winnifred's residence was a door bearing a gold plaque above it which read 'Mrs. Sanders." This was the title by which other dolls in the house typically addressed Winnifred out of respect, since she was a bit older than the dollhouse's other inhabitants.
One late morning Winnifred was sitting in a (necessarily!) large armchair in front of her fireplace, humming blandly to herself and trying to think of something. She wanted to do something useful with her day, but since her head was filled with fluff, it usually took quite a bit of pondering and deliberating for her to produce anything remotely resembling an idea. "Think, think, think . . ." she murmured softly, gently tapping the side of her head with her pointer finger. Suddenly, her reverie was interrupted by the chiming of her cuckoo clock, and her face brightened as her attention shifted to the intruding noise. "Oh! Ten chimes--that means that it's time for . . . something . . . oh bother, I've forgotten again," the doll pouted.
Winnifred stood up slowly from her chair, revealing her outline for the first time. She was an extremely stout doll due to her age and rather hefty appetite for freshly-baked bread and anything sweet. Although she had a soft, round belly, her bust and backside were both large enough that she maintained something between an hourglass figure and a pear shape, despite the extra stuffing she carried. Winnifred spent most of her time in the big doll house in a peculiar state of half-dress, which is to say that on her top half, she wore a simple shirt that she had outgrown long ago, and on her bottom half, she wore nothing. In the past, when she was a younger doll, she had been in possession of many outfits, but over the years they had all worn out or been lost, and since she was only a doll, her partial nudity did not seem unduly strange to herself or the other residents of the big doll house.
But back to the story at hand: the simple-minded Winnifred trundled over to her full-length mirror with a pensive expression still etched on her face. "I just can't seem to think of anything, can you?" she inquired of her reflection. In response, she slowly shook her head back at herself. "Think . . . Think . . . THINK!" she grunted shrilly, holding her head tightly between her hands and scrunching her eyes closed in her effort to find purpose. Suddenly the doll relaxed and addressed her reflection again in excitement. "Oh yes!" she exclaimed, caressing her belly with pleasure. "It's time for my stoutness exercises. How could I have forgotten?!"
Each morning, Winnifred would stand in front of her mirror and perform a short exercise routine. Of course, she never lost any weight as a result of her exercises. In fact, Winnifred enjoyed her morning stretches because by the time she finished just a few repetitions, the doll's prominent stomach would have begun growling insistently, indicating that it was time for brunch. Winnifred centered herself in front of her mirror, and momentarily settled into a half-squat position, chanting with determination: "UP . . . DOWN . . . UP"
She then began reaching up as high as she could into the air, and in turn reaching as low as she could towards her toes (which required significantly greater effort due to the inhibiting bulk of her belly). As she did this, she sang a short, catchy song, accompanied by her reflection.



When I up, down, and touch the ground
It puts me in the mood!
Up, down, and touch the ground
In the mood . . . for food!

The doll paused to smack her lips in anticipation of a hearty midday meal and fondle her belly, which was already beginning to notice how empty it was. Winnifred was extremely proud of her figure, which was by far the most voluptuous of any doll in the big house. Before completing her exercise with a few more toe-touches, she turned in place, admiring the reflection of her curves and beaming with joy at her twin in the mirror.

I am stout, round, and I have found
When it comes to stuff and fluff
I enhance my appetite
When I huff and puff! -Oh!

As she approached the ground for the last time, Winnifred made a mighty final effort at touching her toes. She just managed to brush the ground with her fingertips, but as she did so, she let out a small gasp, looking up at her mirror and wearing an expression of shock. "Umm ... did you feel something funny?" She asked her reflection uncertainly, still bent double with her backside in the air. She nodded back at herself wide-eyed. Still breathing heavily, the doll carefully straightened up and turned around, presenting her rump to the glass and twisting her head back as far as it would go in order to view the reflection of her posterior. A seam ran lengthwise down the center of Winnifred's back, disappearing between her two enormous buttocks. With a coy expression, she reached back and spread her derri�re open, exposing the remaining length of the seam.
Winnifred breathed a heavy sigh of relief at the sight which greeted her. "Oh," she chuckled nervously, "Just one little stitch. No problem." Deep in the rift between her buttocks, a single bit of thread in her stitching had popped as the tightly-stuffed doll bent double. This was not an uncommon occurrence, and closer inspection would reveal that the stitching here did not match the stitching farther up the seam, having been resewn many, many times. She let go of her buttocks, which snapped rigidly back into place due to their fullness, and turned back to her glass twin. "Everything should hold just fine back there, as long as we're careful. Now, where was I? . . . oh!" Winnifred looked down at her belly with an expectant look, pulling her shirt back just as a strange noise began emanating forth from her gut: pitpitpitpitpitpitpitpitpitpit pit, pit, pit . . . tss-POP! Her stomach visibly shuddered and trembled as it did this.
Winnifred and her twin simultaneously looked up at each other with expressions of joy and excitement. "Oh YES!" They both exclaimed. "My tummy is rumbling at last!" The doll bid her twin a hasty goodbye as she skipped over to her cupboard and resumed singing to herself.




I am short, fat, and proud of that
And so with all my might
I up, down, up and down
To my stuffing's great delight!

Winnifred usually like to begin her brunch with a thick slice of bread spread generously with marmalade, but this morning, her enthusiasm quickly dissipated as she retrieved the jar where marmalade should have been. "Ohhh, bother!" the hungry little doll grumbled, "Only the sticky part is left!" She stuck her fingers into the jar in an attempt to harvest the last bits of sweetness and promptly slurped up the resulting stickiness. "Oh, help and bother. Now I'm hungrier than ever." Winnifred began tapping her head again, desperately trying to identify an alternate source of sustenance for her impatient midsection. "Now, an empty marmalade jar makes me sad," she reasoned out loud to herself. "Sadness is another word for sorrow. And sorrow rhymes with . . . borrow! And Eleanor across the hall is always willing to let me borrow a little marmalade!" she concluded happily. Winnifred rubbed her belly with anticipation and promptly headed out the door and across the hall.