The Princess wide - commision.

“Oh sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”  Mrs Heaney proclaimed, her bony hand flew to the crucifix hung around her neck.

The 60 year old dinner lady wailed in sorrow as she bore witness to what had just monstrously prowled into the halls of her canteen.

A girl so abominably obese that her belly was no longer just a stomach anymore, it was a multi-faceted waterfall of cascading folds and gelatinous rolls that were barely contained by the highest form of custom clothing.

All of this free-flowing flab draped heavily downwards, mercilessly tortured by gravity and swinging like a blobby pendulum between knees that were simply crushed by the solid, impossibly thick folds of lard that warped the long-gone curvature of her legs.

Further below, alien like calves resembled the thickest slabs of cured beef rather than actual limbs, every few inches the surge of fat became disjointed into quivering factions of independent blubber.

Section after section of swollen formless meat led to shoe bulging ankles and feet that suffocated beneath so much additional flesh that the gaps between her corpulent toes were stuffed thick with obesity, as if each swollen piggy little foot ends was dripping with calories.

She really was the definition of a blob, dripping beads of sweat over a mere sedate slow wobble of shuffling sliding thighs, supported by her female friend.

The bony girl clearly struggled to support her boundless blubbery companion, her lithe thin hand was swamped and crushed beneath the baby-like inflated fingers of the apocalyptically swollen behemoth, the inexcusably hefty hunger slave drooled dreamily at the thought and smell of inhaling as much food as her stretched leg draping stomach could handle.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity they had completed their great pilgrimage to the buffet. The few people in her way rushed to the sides before her tidal advance.

Claire’s moon shaped fat swollen face sucked for air as her stupendous vat of blubber she called a belly smothered the tray rack, her puny aching arms utterly unable to grasp any of the goodies that were completely out of her each.

Her friend Katie kissed her cheek conjoined chins and frantically assembled four groaning trays, piling each platter two feet high of fried and greasy dripping lard smothered junk food.

Student and members of staff alike were speechless before the shuffling pyramid of apple-shaped enormity. Ever since she came to her new school she had been massively overweight, the past two years of incomprehensible gluttony had only accentuated her size.

It started out with one groaning tray, then two and three then four. The non existence of any form of exercise or restraint had finally resulted in a 650 pushing pounds circular tottering lump of dough that required special desks, reinforced chairs and the highest of motivations to simply roll out her fluffy queen sized bed.

 Her maid always ensured she had heaps of sweet sugary treats at hand whenever a single element of movement was required, otherwise she would just lie on that fat mess of a bouncy castle that resembled a back, breasts flopping about against the curtain of chin flab that swelled out seamlessly from her swollen cheeks.

Claire’s helper quickly set about paying for the food, whilst Claire gasped in pain from having to stand for so long.

She relied on the hanging sea of belly fat for balance. It hung wide and low smothering several feet of the buffet, she could feel the heat waves rise on the expanse of flesh that rode up her jumper by several inches.

The 2 metres wide wrecking ball of pork whimpered with hunger and fatigue as she swayed frantically towards the closest table her feeder could provide. Her impatience for the next feed overcame her fear of unassisted waddling.

Oceans of sweat began to pool and deposit in-between her multiple folds and rolls, she began to smell and every inch of her clothing was soaking wet with the Carolina heat and humidity of the kitchens deep fryers.

Grunting like a pregnant cow she required assistance to even sit down, the metallic legs of both chairs screaming in pain barely able to withstand the little elephantine American who simply didn’t know when to stop.

Katie knew just what to do. Her goddess was much too obese to even eat from the table, four colossal rolls slabbed heavily upon it, like Michelin tires made of jelly pushing the trays several feet away.

Her assistant in gluttony wheeled a chair by the quivering mass and spoon fed with both hands, Claire guzzled and chomped so sloppily and carelessly that all manner of cream and grease ran down her chins and formless jowl colliding breasts like a river.

The gorging went on and on, passersby shuffling away in horror. In record time she had finished all four trays and begged for another.

It was her birthday soon and she was feeling like the pampered princess she always dreamed of becoming.

Knowing her bloated  soon to be birthday girl like she did, Katie whipped up two more, assuming that with enough belly rubbing her pig of pigs could finish most of the offerings that she provided.

She paid as she always did, using Claire’s mummy’s credit card, ignoring the dark disapproving glances of the staff and ferried the trays over as if she was feeding a starving refugee.

Mrs Heaney’s jaw dropped as she realised that this heretical fatty had  unleashed her oceanic gut wholesale by unbuttoning her slacks and that not only did she smother the table, but it drooped far below her invisible dwarfed knees.

A foot of exposed flesh bulged to the sides as her jumper rode up the swell of her gut, her love handles flapping and writhing as she flopped back and forth for the next incoming bite, while her belly hardened and tightly expanded.

The canteen bell rang, but there was absolutely no way that they were moving until the beastly ball of blubber had painfully packed her colossal stomach.

Slobber, grease, butter, ketchup and mayonnaise covered her freshly cleaned uniform and the clothes she had custom ordered a few months ago where now riding up every crack, crevice fold and bulge that quivered from the eternally suffering skeleton.

 All manner of muscle strength was being ground to dust beneath her ballooning weight.

Finally, they were at the last slice of chocolate cake when the seams on her sleeves gave way to the copious piggy flab that swam around her arms, the heaving sacks of flesh crashing heavily down the sides of her 8 ft wide body.

She was so stuffed that the three buttons around her middle simply snapped inwards and even her socks felt tight wrapped about calves so large and unwieldy they swallowed her ankles and carried their very own rolls.

“Time for your class my big piggy!” Katie cooed in her chubby ear, wrapping her skinny arms around the incredibly swollen apple bomb’s belly.

“Ughhhhhh, Not the stairs” Claire moaned, all she wanted to do was sit and eat until she fell asleep. Waited on hand and foot by her food-feeding slave.

Katie fretted as she attempted to coax her enormous queen from the twin set of chairs that she inhabited, the chairs were completely grounded under so many excess pounds.

“Mrs Heaney!” she squealed “can you help me?”

This was the last thing that the aging slender woman wanted to do, but she had to get this oozing butterball out of her cafeteria somehow!

With an enormous heave, both girls took a limp pale, dimpled flabby elbow in both hands, the member of staff worried for the wellbeing of her own spine as she gasped at how there was no sense of bone definition whatsoever.

The Engorged spoilt cow sighed and moaned with every iota of movement as she was virtually useless, her vast swinging set of belly blubber preventing her from pushing up on the table.

Relying upon the dwindling strength of her stubby little legs, smothered with the results of her constant binge-eating they felt as if they were trapped in wrapped up carpets of thick cellulite.

She hated standing up, the pressure on her ankles simply proved too much for her these days without help.

The moment they had her groaning to piggish feet a stomach the size of a pregnant swollen elephant sloshed forward causing even less mobility to the already bed-wishing careening  blob.

Both her mobility assistants were sweating themselves by the time they had shovelled her mountainous form through the canteen’s double door exit, but not nearly as much as the terrible bloated food-sweats Claire was experiencing.

She was in absolute agony, her fat buried ankles burning  and sausage fingers stroked the expanses of her swinging gut, in a vain attempt to comfort the enormous amount of calories that were sure to add even more flab upon this monument to the obesity epidemic that plagued American soil.

She knew, she was getting pretty close to needing a mobility scooter and her only consolation was that her class was in food-tech.

Her fellow students were usually pretty weirded out by her size and constant snacking during class so just let her breathe heavily on her two seats and eat the stuff they made.

“We’ll take the lift sweetie, okay?” Katie consoled the tearful vat of near immobile lard.

Katie took action and slipped a giant candy bar into a fleshy sweaty palm, Momentarily quieting the pondering heap who chomped away with abandon, being granted a small form of relief in the rush of sugar and dopamine.

‘I hope it doesn’t break’ Katie feared, waving goodbye to the dishevelled and gob-smacked new canteen attendant.

The janitor spotted Claire’s hallway blocking bulk swaying clumsily towards him as he taped around the out of order lift.

“I’m sorry girls but you’ll have to take the stairs” although giving a second glance towards the frankly preposterously obese 17 year old still chewing food from her lunch break,  he felt foolish suggesting such a course of action.

Claire was beginning to get even more emotional now as she reeled from the horrors of fighting a gravitational battle with a steep stairwell and an ever more swollen boulder belly.

“Noo.. stairs..!” “Wanna go.. home!” “call mum!” She whimpered and whined, finishing off the large block of dairy milk clasped in tight swollen fingers.. She continued to wail like a great pig afraid of the slaughter, globs of chocolaty saliva cascaded down her wobbly chins.

Katie ushered her off towards the school office, she knew full well that they weren’t getting even a foot up in the air without the enormous butterball falling back and possibly ending her own life.

Those little hands once again submerged beneath Claire’s thick folds of fat that encompassed her hips, as if she was driving a forklift truck.

Swiping a chair from the hallway she quickly used it as a doorstopper allowing her to manoeuvre Claire’s bulk through with both of her hands.

 God she was horny by now, she was almost tempted to call for a dominos pizza so that she could stuff her lardy love goodbye in her mother’s car before they dropped her off.

The receptionist didn’t even have to be told, they had Claire’s mother on speed-dial, she was always being picked up early from school, the winded whale simply found the rigours of school life too strenuous to bear.

Either she was falling over, getting stuck in desks or crushing chairs, the patience of her fellow teachers and pupils was bare-thin.

The seatbelt extender really was on its last legs as the frayed Velcro painfully suffocated her billowing abdomen, the thick and smooth chambers of flab that inflated Claire middle writhed in agony over it.

Given the sheer size of this humongous heifer Katie wondered if it was even needed, I mean it wasn’t like she was going to fly out the window...

Both Katie and her own mother had to help haul her titanic mass sideways into the SUV,  the wheels squeaking and the suspension creaked ,even such a large American vehicle was nearing the limits of it’s capacity to transport roly-poly Claire’s gigantic girth.

“shhhh it’s alright my little cupcake, well get you tucked into bed and Martha the maid will make our princess feel much better!”

The bloated princess had never met her father, and it was apparent that Mrs Baker clung to the sizable sloth of a daughter like a relic, never wanting to be alone even if it meant feeding her daughter so shamelessly that she needed assistance wherever she went.

“Why I can almost smell the cake that she’s baking, just for you!”