Saturday 15 August 2020

A Date To Remember

A week had passed since your fateful encounter with that horrid witch and the results were life changing to say the very least. Whatever you had done, it came with a heavy price; the witch rewrote your reality entirely changing you into an gross, obese woman in front of the entire bar. Your very first memories of your new life involved being humiliated in front of an entire crowd of people with you running away as fast as your new body could take you. Your recollection of what came before all this was foggy at best along with the rest of your old life, but you knew you fucked up in some catastrophic way. Now you sat here, in the darkness of your room, dealing with the consequences brought on by someone you no longer were. 

The first few days were troublesome and left you sorely wanting. Whatever the witch had done to you, it also ensured that life would be as excruciatingly difficult as possible. First and most obvious was your newfound weight, you were easily the fattest woman you've seen in public so far, not that going out was a common occurrence for you anymore. It was blatantly obvious that the person you became neglected exercise to the point of undue hardship. You were pathetic, barely capable of mustering the strength of a child let alone the strength required to move around with your immense frame; the endless struggle with your weight was one that would never end. Your tits were always in the way, your ass constantly bumping into everything, the bulging rolls of your belly eating up what little space remains in front of you. Sweating buckets wasn't exactly an exaggeration when it came to you either. Even the chill of your overworked air conditioning could only hold it back so much, the ever-present odor of sweat easily perceptible around you particularly between your thighs and within your plunging cleavage. Your stomach became a constant concern as well once you quickly discovered you were inflicted with a monstrous flatulence problem. You were constantly saturating the air around you with the acrid stench of your noisy, wet farts. They never seemed to stop and you found it impossible to get used to the smell. You felt terrible for anyone that had to share a room with you - including yourself - as well as anyone who had the displeasure of being trapped downwind of you. Relief was a rarity, allowing you only a handful of minutes to freshen up until you ruined it all again.

By the time the weekend was in sight, you began to feel frustrated. The witch sure didn't care one bit when she dumped you into this life, she didn't even care to rearrange your old one! It sure felt strange sitting in an unfamiliar apartment, the various trinkets around you holding no meaning whatsoever while your wardrobe was essentially worthless. At the very least your old apartment had a variety of creature comforts and entertainment options to keep you distracted. Going outside was simply out of the question, your social life was effectively crippled by everything about you. Still, you felt a deep sense of longing. You had to get out there, try and introduce your new self to the world, find someone to take good care of you. 

Luck and an unhealthy amount of persistence finally paid off. You decide to open a dating profile. Minutes blur into hours as you struggle to make yourself look as appealing as possible. You make sure to emphasize the size of your huge tits in almost every one of your photos while taking care to hide your prominent double chin. Your extraordinary size guarantees that your prospects are few and far in between, but you finally hit it off with a guy who takes a very keen interest in you. After arranging a dinner date at a nearby restaurant, you couldn't help but feel excited, it was a light at the end of a tunnel. Obviously, there was a lot of work ahead. You spent all of Friday eating as little as possible in a desperate attempt to keep your gas contained while doing everything possible to doll yourself up. Multiple showers, almost an entire stick of deodorant, a freshly washed dress, and a cramped, humid bathroom that smells like rot. This is as ready as you could ever get.

Things got off to a worrying start once your date came around, eying you up and down. You could see a subtle hint of disgust flash across his face for a moment until his eyes fall upon your tits for a few solid seconds. You didn't find him all that ideal but this was your only chance, wasn't it? You smile and introduce yourself before leaning off to the side to grope around the seat beside you, an excuse to flash your date a view of your obscenely massive ass. As expected, your date remains focused on your ass until he's seated. You decide to make small talk while you order, getting yourself a large glass of soda while the two of you awkwardly trudge through surface level topics. Somehow, you find yourself getting a little engrossed, excited even. This is the first time you've had an actual conversation in what felt like forever. Just as you open your mouth to gush about a show you've been watching, a noisy gurgle from your stomach interrupts you. You were starving. "I..I haven't eaten all day.." You quickly make an excuse, but your date gives you a look that suggests he doesn't believe you whatsoever. You neglect to mention that your breakfast consisted of a full pizza from the night before, but that didn't count. Trying to disperse the awkward tension, you lean against the table before you, watching as your date's gaze casually drifts downwards to gawk at your enormous tits propped up by the table.

Your efforts ultimate prove futile as you lean back, exposing two great circles of sweat as your breasts slap against your belly audibly. You pretend not to notice them but your reddening face gives it all away. Your date looks off to the side, pulling out his phone for a quick moment. "T-The food should be here soon.." You say in an attempt to break the silence.

"Uh-huh."

"Do you have any plans after tonight..?"

"Some friends want to hang out in a few hours."

"C-Can I.."

"Oh, it's nothing you'd be interested in."

"Do you want to come back to my place?" You pose the question as strained as ever, trying not to come off as hilariously desperate. In response, he flashes you a devious grin. It quickly became clear to you that this guy wasn't as interested in you as you were led to believe. His halfhearted answers and constant gawking made it clear that he wanted nothing more than to fuck you and run as far away as he could possible get. The thought bounces around your head, leaving you silent as you grind you sweat-soaked thighs against one another. Shit, not now! You were starting to feel wet and that wasn't the least of your worries. An all too familiar pressure swells within your belly, steadily accruing without any end in sight. Fuck, please, not now! I did everything right! Your thoughts race. You recall sitting on the toilet, grunting and moaning from the monumental effort of venting uproarious, putrid farts that left your bathroom feeling more like a sauna than anything else. You scoot towards the opening of the booth, your date chuckling as the damp, sticky noise that results from peeling your drenched thighs from your seat. 

Everything was coming undone, and fast. Beads of sweat roll down your pudgy cheeks and tumble onto your dress below. The sweat from your cleavage was starting to leave a long, dark line down the front of your dress, your flanks suffering a similar fate. You had to save yourself, and fast. "P..Please give me a moment to use the washroom, I-I.." He nods carelessly. Still, your date kept a close eye on the way your ass shifts and bulges against your dress even as you continue to struggle. There was some hope. I can't fucking believe this.. Please, just a little more. I want him so badly, why am I fucking this up? You feel the horrid sting of regret once you swing one massive, cumbersome thigh over the edge of the booth, only for you to inadvertently press your stomach into the edge of the table. You're left absolutely dumbstruck as that intense pressure quickly releases in the form of the most thunderous, ear-piercing fart you've ever made in your entire life. The harsh noise is only amplified by the ridiculous size of your ass. The noxious odor is thankfully contained to your corner of the restaurant, not that it matters anymore, you practically announced the end of your date to nearly a hundred people. You can hear the clatter of cutlery and dishes, the entire restaurant was staring at you. Your date's disgust can hardly be contained. All trace of desire and perversion were erased. You fight to contain your emotions. "I, uhh, need to wash my hands." He murmurs, getting up to leave, leaving you in the aftermath of the only date you could manage to get. Over five agonizing minutes pass and your date is still absent, the restaurant effectively back to normal even though you can hear several horrid comments regarding your weight among other details. You remain silent even as your food arrives, only weakly asking the giggling waitress if you could have the bill - he wasn't coming back. You glance around the restaurant before unceremoniously dumping your date's meal alongside your own before making your way home as quickly as possible, ignoring the various comments made behind our back as you waddle out of the restaurant. 

 

You spend the remainder of the evening stuffing your face after deleting your dating profile, the noise of the television in the background unable to mask the noise of your endless chewing and flatulence. Tears stream down your face, ruining your thick makeup, your vision blurs as you messily cram entire handfuls of food into your mouth leaving a wide array of stains all around your pale body. Before long you had a hand crammed beneath your stomach, feverishly working your drenched pussy. The low, steady heat of arousal didn't let up one bit even after the worst date in your entire life. You figure it was just another treat by that cursed bitch of a witch. As you easily work yourself up to climax after explosive climax, you reluctantly begin to accept your life as a massive shut-in of a slob.

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