Sandra's just dessert

chapter 1

"...and we were crossing campus between classes on our way to the cafeteria. Lucy had worn the cutest sweater and leggings that she could still squeeze her 325 lbs into; and yet as we walked, I noticed she couldn't help but give a feeble tug the hem of her sweater to attempt to cover her belly every six or so wobbling steps. She had got winded while we were playfully mocking the series of dull presentations we'd just sat through. I suggested we wait at the bench outside the cafeteria. Lucy's cries of protest in response to my suggestion were just loud enough to draw her attention."


The private chat room bubbled with conversation between John and the unknown man he had been searching-out for months. After chasing the stories and reputations through a handful of dead ends, John was finally talking to someone he was almost positive was the real deal.


"Go on--I don't want you sparing any detail. This is all critical information for the profile I'm building." The stranger replied.


"Right. Well anyway, Lucy didn’t like the idea of waiting or walking, so she told me to get something from the vending machine while she caught her breath. I went off to pick out her favorites, and that stupid machine wouldn't take my money! I won't forgive myself for what happened when Sandra made her way over while I was gone."

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"Oh my gawd Tawnya, take a look at the fucking whale oozing out of that bench by the cafeteria." Sandra cawed at her "frenemy" as the two of them pulled out their phones, turning their collective attention from the MoonLux coffee they'd been sipping to the impatient yelping across the quad. Sandra was dressed in a teal and grey sportswear halter top, which showed off the perfect combination of the cleavage of her c-cup breasts, her slim but untoned midriff, and her delicately tapering hips. Her yoga pants (which she actually wore to yoga) emphasized every supple curve of her tastefully thicc ass and thighs; hugging her waist and calves just right. Her jet-black hair was pulled back and high to accentuate her striking angular lips and cheeks, and hung to between her sculpted shoulder blades in a perfectly straight bundle that swung in time back-and-forth as she strutted directly toward the isolated *** in her sights. Tawnya had begun taking pictures of Lucy leaning heavily to the side in an effort to retrieve her own phone as she waited unawares. Sandra opened her face-camera, and began calling out to Lucy as she started recording.


“Hey. Hey! Yeah, you! No, don’t worry, this isn’t for my instagram or anything. We just have some questions for you!” The two took turns chattering and laughing as they descended on their target with light and bubbly bravado that sent tension through Lucy’s rotund frame as she shrunk into her shoulders in a fein attempt at disappearing. “So we’re doing like, uh *hehe* a health screening around campus, would you care to answer a few of our questions?” Sandra crouched in front of Lucy, facing her phone’s face-camera; making sure to get a low and unflattering angle of Lucy in the background squirming in discomfort while desperately scanning the doors of the student center for any sign of John. Lucy said in a timid voice “I’m meeting someone, I don’t have time for your screening...”


“Oh, it’ll only take a minute or two to get what we need from you. So, how much would you say you eat anyway? I mean in a single sitting; I don’t have time to hear how much you put into your body in a whole day! Do you know that the average female needs only about 1400 calories given proper activity and exercise? It looks like you get that in a single meal!” Lucy’s face began to flush beat red.
“What is wrong with you?! Leave me alone, I didn’t do anything to you!” Lucy spoke more sternly now; tears starting to well in the corners of her eyes. She scooted to the edge of the bench and tried to push up from the metal seat, but not before Tawnya grabbed Lucy’s shoulder, easily thwarting the overweight college student’s attempt at escape. Sandra stood up, and began stalking toward Lucy, turning her camera on the flustered blimpette.

“You haven’t done anything? Maybe if you had done something other than stuff your face and sit on your fat ass, it wouldn’t be taking up half of this bench! Nobody but a sick pervert would want to try to split the difference between your blubber and the other armrest! And I can’t even imagine what it must be like in your head. How do you even let yourself get this big? This is the kind of thing we’re trying to head-off with our little ‘health-screenings’; ***es like you need to be taught a lesson.”

“...and I came running! I saw her put down her phone to and began to post the video. All I could hear were the limpid sobs coming from my girlfriend as she cried out for help--pleading these gym-rat harpies to stop their insane ritual of cruelty! I shouted at the top of my lungs to try to get them to stop as they turned to run away, but I instantly ran to Lucy’s side to console her and get her to safety. But the rest of the details you asked for are written in the deposition we gave at the college when we tried a formal grievance, with no success.” John blinked hot tears out of his bleary eyes as he looked at the screen in the dark of his living room. Reliving that painful moment made the minutes that passed agonisingly slow. He resolved himself before typing and sending: “You’re the only hope we have for getting back at this bitch.”


Mike looked at the screen before him for a good 5 minutes before even touching the keyboard. During the onslaught of ugly details flying into the chatroom from John’s end, Mike had been quick at work pulling relevant search histories; private consumer reports; social networking metrics--data triangulated on Sandra’s life. Things that would reveal dimensions of her personality that even she would be oblivious to. Another 5 minutes. “Sure. I’ll take the job. I will need you to attend an event--maybe a party or something--where she’ll be. When you get there, and she’s there, call me and I’ll make my move. After that, I’ll leave and she will follow. The rest will be out of your hands.” His index finger hovered above the enter-key for a single moment more. “Nothing violent or illicit; I assure you. Merely charm and calculation.” and he hit send.


A mixture of elation and relief swelled-up in John over the next weeks. In some sense, it was up to him when this whole thing started. The only difficulty he had in finding a party where that bitch would be was in spending time away from Lucy, who absolutely refused to attend the party. She had been granted a few weeks grace period for her classes, per her counselor's recommendation, and so had been more or less attending to a mixture of online homework assignments, video games, and comfort food at home.

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The night John determined would be the easiest to manufacture Mike’s meeting Sandra was the hoaky fraternity Mardi Gras party that the Delta Delta Delta house would put on. John had made sure to leave Lucy with enough to do and eat, keeping her as comfortable as possible. He felt emboldened by his secret plan as he looked himself over before opening the door of his apartment. John knew that for all Sandra’s cruelty, she was too proud to be suspicious of someone like him. Doubling this air of vendetta, John was spared the danger of being the agent of his own revenge. A chill of uncertainty crept through him as he opened the door. He pulled out his phone and began to text Mike. Some time during the drive, John’s phone buzzed with notification in his cup holder. He grinned and pulled slowly through the narrow residential streets to the frat house.


John felt every moment he spent in the party was a fight to maintain an air of nonchalance. He rarely came to parties. Everywhere was a blend of differing lights and colors; a concoction of sounds and smells pulled his attention constantly from edge to edge of his vision. Clusters of people ranging from intimate couples to rowdy crowds of 10 or more seemed to fit naturally no matter what they were doing. Why would one person stand out? He couldn’t shake the feeling, but eventually his hand found a drink, or someone started a conversation. He made his way through the night, looking to the bigger groups for Sandra. Failing to find her, John excused himself from the poker game he was watching to step outside. He thought for sure he would have seen either Mike or Sandra at this point, and he became disillusioned. Maybe he had made a mistake? He checked his phone, and Mike’s response had been cruelly brief. “Sounds good.” and that was all John knew for sure.