The Spoiled Princess

Chapter 1

“Deandra - sweetheart, I’m very concerned about you.”

The middle-aged business man stood on the patio looking over his grown daughter who was sitting there sunning herself, eating grapes and drinking a mojito.

“Daddy,” she whined, curling her lip as she twisted a single lock of her long blonde hair, “do we have to talk about this now? You’re blocking my sun.”

“Look at you,” he went on, “you’re twenty-six years old, you lay around here all day, eating and drinking, getting fat and drunk.”

The young woman just lay there exasperated, rolling her eyes under her $400 sunglasses. She took another big slurp from her mojito, and gave her bare belly a pat as she let out a small burp.

“Mimi!” she beckoned, calling for her personal maid. “I need another drink - *hiccup!* - and bring more snacks too!”

“Yes, miss,” the maid said humbly, scurrying off to fetch more for the young princess to indulge herself in.

“Listen, sweetheart,” the man continued, “I think it’s time you thought about meeting a guy - you know, get married, have a family; settle down in a place of your own.”

“Ugh,” said the young princess, “married?”

“Wouldn’t it be nice,” he added, “to find yourself a nice fella you could make a life with? Someone who treats you as good as I do?”

“But every guy I meet is either a creep or a loser,” said the young woman. “They’re all so - beneath me.”

“Well, honey,” said the man, nervously running his palm across the back of his neck, “the older you get and the bigger you get the harder it’s going to be to find someone who wants to be with you.”

A forlorn look fell over the young woman’s face, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wasn’t dumb - she knew she wasn’t a teenager anymore, and she knew all too well just how fat she was - but hearing her father say it, standing there staring at her as she lay there helplessly in her two-piece swimsuit; it felt like an attack.

“Oh, daddy!” she whimpered.

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m just calling it like I see it.”

The gentleman started pacing back and forth on the patio top awkwardly, looking as if he were searching for a place where he could hide.

“I just want you to get out there before it’s too late; before you get too much older - or any fatter.”

Just then the maid returned with a fresh drink and a tray full of food. She set them down on the table beside the spoiled young princess. Deandra stretched out a chubby arm and yawned a bit as she grabbed a fistful of grapes and stuffed them in her mouth.

“Listen,” the girl’s father stammered on, “there’s this fella, he’s one my company’s top clients. I think he’s in the oil business.”

Deandra audibly groaned, again rolling her eyes and tilting her head away as she took a big sip of her fresh mojito.

“Anyway, he’s a nice fella, and he’s single,” he went on to say, shifting and shuffling in place trying to maintain his daughter’s attention. “I was talking with him the other day, and I was telling him about you.”

A loud slurp emanated from the young lady’s mouth, followed by another soft but long burp. She grimaced and patted herself on the belly, sending it wiggling and jiggling about, then stuffed a single chocolate bon bon in her mouth and practically swallowed it whole.

“You know,” her father continued, “he says he likes a woman with, um - meat on her bones.”

Setting her drink down, she leaned her head back in her deck chair and both both hands on her belly. She’d been sitting there stuffing herself all afternoon and had suddenly become aware of just how full she was.

“Heh, that’s how he put it,” her father chuckled sheepishly, “meat on her bones.”

Deandra began massaging her tummy more intently as she tried to ease the indigestion she was feeling, when suddenly a very loud burp escaped from the depths of her gut. Her lip curled up again and her nose crinkled, and she let her tongue hang out of her mouth as she let out a gasp of relief.

“So what do you say, honey?” the man asked, as he ceased his incessant pacing to gaze down directly at Deandra. “Would you meet up with him this weekend?”

“Fiiiiine!” she groaned disgustedly, finally relenting to her father’s pleas.

“Great!” The gentleman exclaimed gleefully, celebrating the small victory, “I’ll call him and we’ll set the whole thing up. His name is Cal; I really think you’re going to like him!”

With one hand still on her bloated belly, she again reached for her mojito and resumed her drunkenness.

As the gentleman scurried off to his home office to make the arrangements, his daughter called to him to tell him one last thing:

“Daddy,” she said

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“If I do get married and move out - “

“Yes?”

“I’m taking Mimi with me.”