Perona Robs the Holiday Islands! The Lady Pirates Intervene!

Every last drop of nog swirled down her mouth before Perona crushed her carton hard and threw it well over the table into the dark void beyond where she sat. She pinched her brow together as she dwelled on the thought before a familiar roar filled her ears with its dull warning. Quickly, Perona licked her lips clean twice over and brought her pudgy knuckles to her mouth. She hated to be oh so unladylike, but the rich scent that wafted up her nostrils made breaking the taboo all the more worth it. 

“GWWWOOOOOOOOOUUUUUURRRRRRPPPP!!” 

Perona’s belch lasted a good few seconds until eventually ending when she leaned back down, allowing gravity to stop her. She smacked her mouth at the aftertaste left behind by her meal, the rich sweet flavor blending in alongside bitter alcohol, then swiped at another carton of her nectar sitting on the table and raised it to the roof. Strangely enough, it looked to be closer to her than when she last lost herself to the glowing chandelier some twenty seconds ago. The hairs on Perona’s neck stood tall and settled just as soon as they arose. Perhaps the view of her built-in woman’s cave started playing with her mind. She must have seen that painting left behind by the previous owner showing what appeared to be a furry green man in a red outfit holding a bag over his shoulder every day since she moved in. It was admittedly the only thing that gave her home any life beyond the drab gray palette that met her at every corner of the room. Perona, nonetheless, gave a half-hearted shrug as she continued to sift her hand inside the plastic box of cookies again and squealed when another trio of treats fell to her lap.

She deserved this. It didn’t matter what some punk or bitch on the street said to her, because in her mind, Perona deserved her happiness and then some. Soft whirs and lion roars echoed in the cave while she sipped on her drink, lost in thoughts of when she first saw Nami’s chest. She remembered the faint pink outline of her areolas slipping past her bra, the ample shape of her tits complementing her voluptuous frame, not unlike Perona’s flat curves. Perona rubbed her stomach while heat flourished up her sunken wrist. Were Nami’s boobs always so big? That fat cow’s tits must have been too tight for her bra if they were squeezing out of them so much. The fact that there were men out there attracted to a body like hers, Perona couldn’t understand. The hourglass frame was a boon to bear compared to her fortune, so what if they cushioned her blows or kept her healthy? With a pig-like snort, Perona finished the last of her eggnog by raising it to the top of the roof (narrowly grazing it as she did), content to live her life as low as she could.

Although just when Perona shook her carton of any last droplets remaining, she came to a halt when her eyes went to the container before carefully drifting to her forearm, now straining on her fleece coat. There were pockets of flesh that jutted through the torn holes and seemed to stretch farther even as Perona remained still. Then when the rips reached her wrist, she rushed her hand right back to the table. She pinched the open flaps between her fingers before the folds extended onto her forearm, and she released her grip just as quickly.

Damn it, not mummy’s old top! Perona thought.

Perona’s knuckles whitened, and within a flash, she tore her coat clean off; cloth splitting apart past her flabby forearms. She tossed what remained of the mess beside the table before she leaned back in her chair. The weighted ton in her stomach tightened further with every passing second. She brought her hands to her forehead and then rubbed them in small circles before all the noise in the quiet cave stopped. Because the instant Perona brought her fingers to her stomach, she shuddered at a sudden spike in heat that went up to her wrist, now smothered in a smooth gelatin embrace.

____________

FULL STORY CONTINUES IN THE ATTACHED PDF FILE; ART BY OKIOPPAI IN ANOTHER POST