"Fit to Fat Slob": A KCC Tale Part 1

Still been super busy, so I appreciate everyone's patience. Here's part one of the "Fat Slob" Katrina's Costume Collection story as voted on by you with hopefully part two coming out today if not tomorrow.

Enjoy!

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There were perks to working in a costume shop that specialized in cursed costumes that fattened people. For instance, Mathilde got to watch a previously slim woman with an arrogant strut now waddling out of the store dressed in a fat hippie costume with an emphasis on the hippie part.

The previously slender vixen was now a real wide load with hips that knocked over a rack of costume makeup, much to Mathilde’s annoyance, as she waddled as fast as her brand new thunder thighs allowed her.

And they did not allow her to waddle very fast at all. The masses of flesh slapped and rubbed together as the formerly arrogant woman was now dealing with the the humiliation of losing complete control of her body, something that was aided by the way her now massive and blubber butt cheeks flapped up and down bouncing and slapping against her tree trunk thick thunder thighs all while spilling out from under the hippie dress.

Those wide hips of hers soon found themselves squeezed into the doorframe, so close to her escape and yet so far away thanks to the blubber that was binding her in place. The fat woman screamed and squeezed and finally managed to squish herself through the doorway, nearly falling to the ground as she barreled into the next customer who was planning to enter the shop.

That woman greeted the fat hippie with a laugh and a derisive “Watch where you’re going, Fatso,” before stepping inside. It was the first taste the now fat woman got of the kind of humiliation she used to so easily deal out to others, and she began to cry as she waddled away knowing that this was her life now, a life stuck living as exactly the kind of person she had always made fun of, fat and unhappy.

The woman who came into the store after her came in with the same arrogant strut that most of Mathilde’s victims- or, as her manager Gwendolynn would say, vessels of karmic readjustment- did. She looked around the room as if the whole place disgusted her before strutting over to the counter.

“I need something that will make me look atrocious.”

Then she gestured to her hot body which was clad in a skin tight maxi dress meant to show off her abundant but carefully trimmed curves. 

“I know. That sounds impossible. But I have a costume contest to win and the theme is most outrageous transformation, so I need to look as hideous as possible because, let’s face it, what could be more outrageous than that? So there must be something in this rinky-dink operation that I can make work.”

“Rinky-dink?” Mathilde asked, taking professional offense to the remark.

“Honey, you’re a seasonal shop in a mall. I’m just hoping you’re one step above Spirit Halloween.”

“Oh, we are quite a few steps above Spirit Halloween. Come with me.”

And then, for her own amusement, Mathilde threw a little hitch in her step as if she were Igor as she led the woman, whose name she would later learn was Elizabeth thanks to her credit card, in search of the perfect costume for an outrageous transformation.

It wasn’t long before they found the perfect thing, a costume labeled “Fat Slob”.

“This is the perfect thing,” said Elizabeth in agreement with the universe.

“Fat Slob,” she mused as she held the heavy costume in her hands with all the padding and the pre-greased sweatpants.

“It’s so deliciously low, so horribly dirty. I love it. This disgusting thing is the farthest from me that anything could ever be. What a delight! I’ll be sure to win! And look at this.”

She noted a little remote and pressed the button causing a large PHHHRRRRRRBBBBT to erupt from a speaker in the costume’s well padded ass.

“It’s perfect! So disgustingly perfect! I’m going to try it on right away.”

Elizabeth quickly took the costume and skipped into the dressing room eager to try it on which of course got Mathilde’s mind spinning. Just Elizabeth’s eagerness alone was enough to get the fat goth chick panting.

Mathilde loved the idea of this particular costume, and as Elizabeth disappeared to change into it, Mathilde could only bite her lip and resist her desire to slide her hand between her plump thighs as she thought about it. (Gwendolyyn had been quite cross the last time she caught Mathilde doing that, giving her a lecture about the importance of professionalism- even though she could catch a certain glimmer in Gwen’s eyes as she did so. It was a rather flush moment for the both of them.)

But that wasn’t the moment at hand.

No. Mathilde’s thoughts turned once again toward Elizabeth. The idea of the prim and proper princess willinging turning herself into a pig, purposefully turning her vain body into everything she had despised and mocked, the irony of her choosing to be a big fat slob- even just temporarily was absolutely delicious. 

And what was even more delectable was that Mathilde knew the truth.

Elizabeth wasn’t going to be enjoying a simple dalliance into decadence, a momentary slip into slobbery, she was paying Mathilde to be turned into a fat farting slob forever.

Mathilde could picture it, the way that Elizabeth’s belly would be spilling over the waistband of her pants, the sweaty, greasy flesh just lazily hanging out there for all to see, jiggling as she scratched it with her chubby fingers. She could picture the way her formerly fit turned fat ass would sag as it simultaneously stretched out the back seats of her well worn and sweat stained sweatpants. 

Her nose sniffed at the air and Mathilde could just imagine the smell of Elizabeth’s sweat. She would be too fat to be able to control it. And the flatulence that would come from Elizabeth constantly binging on junk food, just the thought of it made Mathilde’s nose crinkle with disgust and delight.

She could so easily picture Elizabeth’s confident model strut reduced to a slow awkward waddle with her thick sweaty thighs rubbing together constantly and threatening to start a fire if it weren’t for all the moistness. It was her destiny thanks to the costume she had chosen, the fat slob, to become a meaty woman with a mighty muffin top and swollen pendulous breasts along with a doughy double chin, or maybe even three!

The thought of Elizabeth’s piggish face made Mathilde moan.

Mathilde could see so clearly the acne ravaged face that Elizabeth would have, swollen with fat and greasy from sweat. She could picture Elizabeth’s hair, laying limp and lifeless, a greasy mess just like the rest of her framing her fat face. That face would have jiggly jowls replacing her high cheekbones and making her eyes look beady. She wanted Elizabeth’s nose to grow fatter as well, thicker and wider becoming more like a pig snout and perfect for sniffing her now smelly self. That would be the perfect punishment for this vain, stuck up bitch, to be stuck so keenly aware of just how far she had fallen, reduced to a fat slob, a swollen, smelly sow.

And then Elizabeth stepped out of the dressing room, and Mathilde was far from disappointed.

The fat suit really did look tremendously realistic. And Elizabeth was quite pleased by how thoroughly ridiculous she looked, and felt, honestly.

Elizabeth could feel her thighs rubbing together. While she couldn’t feel the fabric of the greasy sweatpants thanks to all the padding that was pressed against her legs, she could feel how all that fat padding was forcing her to widen her stance. And her perfect ass looked like it had added a lot more junk in the trunk. The suit had given her a big round shelf of a butt, two massive cheeks that really added to the slowness of her waddle, even though they were just padding. She felt like she now had an extremely fat and flabby ass, and she especially loved the way the fat cheeks crested over the costume’s greasy pants like two fat moons cratered with cellulite, giving her a tasteful and hilarious plumber’s crack.

But Elizabeth’s favorite part of the costume was her big blubbery belly. It made her look like an absolute fat cow! The big belly looked so realistically fleshy and greasy. It even came with a realistic and incredibly deep belly button clearly visible as it lurched out from under the sweatshirt and over the waistband of the pants. It had a humorous jiggle with even the hint of moments and seemed to have been pretreated with some potato chip crumbs and grease marks. She loved that she was able to hold it with both her chubby hands and give it a hefty shake as if this bulbous pot belly was her own even though she could still feel the back side of the padding rubbing up against her precious abs, what a delicious dichotomy.

The extra sag caused by the weight in the costume’s boobs caused them to rest heavily on the top of Elizabeth’s new bulbous belly. And though her breasts were now technically even bigger, the sag and the sweatshirt diminished the appearance of their size, and the way they sat on her belly like it was a shelf only emphasized the size of her new blubbery gut even further which, for the sake of this costume, suited Elizabeth just fine.

The only thing that hadn’t changed about Elizabeth was her face which still looked as slim and gorgeous as ever. Her head was quite the contrast from the rest of her fat and sloppy looking body. She was still in her perfectly applied make-up and not a hair was out of place. This worked for her because she knew it would keep her from being totally unrecognizable, and the contrast would also make it clear to any of the idiots who hadn’t seen her in a while that Elizabeth had just let herself go. It even presented her with a fun opportunity to tease her hair into an elaborately planned mess.

The face was a disappointment to Mathilde as it broke the illusion that Elizabeth was actually a fat slob. Mathilde would have to make due with smiling to herself, content in the knowledge that the truth was Elizabeth would be turned to fat slob for real soon enough, and that change would be very permanent.

Elizabeth changed back out of the heavy costume and happily paid for it confident that she was going to win the costume contest.

Mathilde rang her up and watched her walk away smirking that the knowledge that the confident strut would soon be a waddle. Mathilde knew a truth that Elizabeth was going to have to find out the hard way.

This party was going to be the most transformative and humiliating night of Elizabeth’s life.