Nightmare Pigs Epilogue - DRAFT

This epilogue is turning out way longer than I thought it would, and, at over 2,500 words I thought this would be a nice place to stop for now and share what I've done. When I finish the second half of this piece, I'll post both together instead of posting them as part one and part two and being confusing since ultimately I want to publish the whole thing as one big epilogue.

Anyway...

Enjoy!

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Things weren’t always easy for Marjorie. Even in college people aren’t exactly the most mature, and the world can be cruel to people of her size. She knew that. She was well aware of the fact that she was on the higher side of fat, morbidly obese as it were, and that a lot of people would look down at her for that sort of thing. They warned her about medical issues. They insulted her with their fake concern. They called her lazy and out of control and all sorts of names.

But Marjorie also knew she had something for when the world wanted to look down on her, something that would keep her going even through the darkest of times.

Marjorie had some of the best friends anyone could ask for. Her friends were kind to her. They were supportive of her. They were always there for her, and they knew what Marjorie was going through because they were going through it too.

All of Marjorie’s friends were big fat slobs, bloated, gassy girls far from glamorous. And even though each and every one of them was fatter than Marjorie was and faced more insults than she did, and certainly had to deal with a number of hygiene issues that Marjorie didn’t have to deal with, they were all unashamed, and Marjorie found that to be incredibly inspiring.

Take Syn for example.

Marjorie watched Syn waddle into the campus dining hall and instantly watched heads turn to leer and gawk at the fat woman in fishnets and a pair of black shorts that barely contained her bulbous rear end. Syn wore a broken corset that couldn’t hope to contain her massive belly which spilled out from under it and over the waistband of her shorts. Her jelly belly jiggled with each pondering step, and the fishnets threatened to break from the friction of her fat thighs rubbing together. Cellulite covered fat oozed through the holes, and people took notice. Several of them stuck their fingers in their mouths and made a gagging sound, and a few especially mean sorority sisters came up to Syn, poked her in her gelatinous gut and then let loose a loud chorus of moos.

And how did Syn react?

“Fuck you, hos!” she declared with a defiant double bird to her would be tormentors.

Then she slapped her belly and gave it a big shake.

“You jealous? You prissy pricks want some of this? Oh yeah! Look at it! Look at it! Drink it in, losers.”

And then…

PPPPPFFFFFFFPPPHHHRRRRRRRBBBTTTTT!!!!!!

Syn lifted her leg like she was going to take a sumo wrestler stance and instead ripped a titanic fart and wafted the stench over toward her enemies who began to gag for real and run away.

“Yeah. You like that, you bleach blonde bitches! You skinny whores! Take it! Take it all!”

And with a few more less controlled toots for good measure, Syn waddled over to Marjorie’s table.

Marjorie wished she could have Syn’s devil may care attitude and outrageous outward confidence. She was sure that the cruel words must be getting to her on the inside, at least a little bit, but Syn was strong and didn’t let it show. She was always able to give just as well as she got and turned what others made fun of her, her fat and her flatulence, into some of her greatest weapons. She often left Marjorie in awe with her raw fat goth biker chick kind of energy.

The dining hall bench groaned as Syn sat down next to Marjorie. For a moment there was a flash in her mind. She was Cynthia again, disgusted, horrified by the obese slob that she was. She pawed at her belly fat as she felt heat flash across the back of her neck. She felt her fat flabby well cushioned ass sit down on the bench next to this fat loser she used to make fun of, a fat loser that was now thinner than she was (without losing any weight). The bench groaned under her blubbery body weight, and she thought about how thin and light she used to be, how graceful she had been, how prim and proper. She tried to push herself up to run away but only ended up lifting one leg and-

Pfffffffffft

Then she looked at Marjorie.

“Sup, slut?” Syn asked as she stole one of Marjorie’s cheese fries and plopped it into her mouth.

“You can get your own, you know,” snarked Marjorie. Standing up for herself like this was still relatively new to her, but her fat friend group had filled her with confidence.

“Yeah. I know. I know,” muttered Syn in deference.

“It’s just such a long walk and I needed a breather. Okay?”

Marjorie looked at Syn and nodded with sympathy.

“Yeah. Okay. But you owe me more cheese fries when you get up.”

“And cheesy garlic bread and some cookies. I know the drill. You got it.”

“Thanks… whore.”

“Yeah. No. That doesn’t sound the same coming from you.”

“I thought I’d try it on.”

“It didn’t fit.”

“Just like your corset.”

The two laughed together as they shared the cheese fries with Syn hungrily calculating just how many she could have and how long she would be able to go without having to get up and get more herself. She figured that if she could just hold out long enough, another one of their friends might show up, and she might be able to convince her to get the food for them.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Big Bee came waddling in.

Bethany would have strut with purpose. She would have had a confident, dominant gait meant to demonstrate her power and cultivate both awe and fear. But Big Bee, alternately known as Big Bertha depending on the moment, had a slow ponderous waddle mostly because of the immense size of her tree trunk thighs but also because of the amount she had just toked up before coming here. With her eyes bleary and her fat legs feeling like they were walking through sand, Big Bee giggled to herself and let out a little toot that elicited another burst of laughter as she was “propelled” toward the table occupied by Marjorie and Syn.

“Heeeeeey there…. Ladies.” droned Bee.

“Sup, Bertha, you big bad bitch,” replied Syn whose eyes gleamed as she saw the opportunity she had been waiting for.

“Hey, do you mind getting us some more food while you’re already up?”

“Awww yeah, kiwohsabeeeeeeeee. Anything for me amigops.”

The unnecessary p at the end of amigos was further punctuated by a pop of flatulence that burst from Bee’s blubbery behind.

“You don’t have to,” interjected Marjoie.

“But if you wanted to,” hurried Syn.

“We would love some more cheese fries, some cheesy garlic bread, some pizza, some meatballs, and some cookies.”

“You got it, homeslice,” nodded Big Bee with her mind really leaning toward that mention of pizza.

She threw up the weakest finger guns that her chubby, uncoordinated sausage fingers could still manage and waddled off to fetch the food for her fat friends.

As She began to pile her platter full of plates of food, the same sorority girls from earlier came circling around to make fun of Bethany.

“Hey there, Big Bertha, you bloated cow.”

“Moooooooo, you fat hippie loser.”

“Gonna cram your big fat face full of more food, aren’t you? You really need all that, pig?”

“Piggy can’t help herself. Isn’t that right, Piggy? Oink. Oink. Oink.”

“Yeah! Come on and oink for us, Piggy!”

“No. No. Moo for us, you fat cow.”

Big Bee just let the insults bounce off her blubber and shook her head.

“Why you gotta like make fun of my body, man? Like all bodies are b-beaUTiful no matter how big they are. And yeah. I may be big… big, big, blubbery, big blubber wubba chubba wubba blub blub blubbery blubber big and blubbery but I’m big and beautiful… baby.”

“You’re fat and disgusting,” one of the girls spat back.

“Well that’s like… your opinion, man.”

Phhrrrrrrbbbbbtttt

The fart squeaked out of Bee and got the sorority sisters gagging.

“Oh, god, not again.”

“This fat pig is just like her friend.”

“Of course she is, we could already smell her from a mile away.”

“Gross!”

“What’s the matter?” Bee asked with a shrug and a sniff of her own flatulence.

“It’s like natural. All of us do it, you know.”

“Have some decency and do it elsewhere?”

“Why?” asked Bee as she let rip another trumpeting fart that sent the sorority sisters running and screaming.

“Some people just can’t handle a little bit of nature,” mused Bee as she raised her fat arms above her head exposing her sweaty armpit hair. 

As a whiff of her own body odor hit her, Bee’s eyes went wide.

For a moment she was Bethany again and dealing with the fact that she had been turned into this fat, flatulent, foul smelling pig, an absolute obese hog. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. She was supposed to be slim and sexy, prim and proper in complete control. She was the one who pushed around others not just the kind of fat pathetic loser who let others insult her. But here she was, fat as hell and smelling disgusting.

Bethany couldn’t help herself and took a big sniff of her armpit just to see how bad things have gotten, and as she coughed at her own smell and sent her bingo wings wobbling along with the rest of her big fat blubbery body, she let out a few more farts. Bethany tried to fight against it all, but her drug filled haze began creeping forward again in her mind, and soon she was Big Bee once more.

“Now where was I?” she thought before looking at the platter she had been filling.

“Oh right! The pizza. Yuuuuuuuuummmmmm.”

Big Bee went back to piling her platter with all the food she was asked for and brought it over to her friends.

“Here you go,” she said with a wide lazy smile.

“Thanks, slut. You gonna have some?”

“Nah. I’m gonna go back and get my own pizza… and some wings… and some pasta… yeah.”

“You sure? Syn can share this pizza with you and get you more later. You shouldn’t have to do all the work.”

“Heeeey. Nah. Is fiiiine. We are… fully good,” Bee said with a chuckle and then turned to waddle off back toward the buffet line to fill a platter for herself.

Marjorie watched Big Bee waddle off and couldn’t help but stare at the way her big blubbery buttcheeks bounced and sway with every sing slow lumbering step. She admired the way Big Bee walked- well waddled- through life with seldom a care in the world. Whereas Syn was full of confrontation, Bee was endlessly pleasant and relaxed. They made an excellent pairing. And their trio was completed by–

“Booyah!” blurted Didi as she bellied her way through the dining hall door. And once inside her blubbery butt let loose a tremendous trumpeting blast of ass gas.

“WOOF! Get a load of that! Damn!” Didi, formerly Diana, said as she lifted a leg and let another one rip followed by a peel of loud nasally laughter that sent her big belly bouncing.

Didi, despite how heavy she was, managed to bounce with a pep in each waddling step. Syn showed her confidence through her ability to confront and stand up to others. Bee displayed hers by being relaxed and letting things come as they were. The artist formerly known as Diana let her confidence shine through pure unadulterated joy, a kind of manic energy that could not possibly be contained just like her clothes could not possibly contain all her blubber.

She was a bubbly blubbery girl, and her outfit reflected all of that. She was a big girl in bright pink booty shorts that barely contained her blubbery butt cheeks and a matching pink tube top that was not ashamed to let big gluttonous gut hang out. Her big meaty muffin top was out and proud as it spilled over the waistband of her shorts which were ridiculously tiny on her butt would have fit old mousy Diana in one leg. This new and improved version also proudly displayed her tig ol’ bitties with the help of a heavy duty push up bra. She had big balloons for breasts that still made her rather popular at parties with men and women alike despite her proponderous sides and propensity for flatulence.

Didi was truly like a balloon filled with hot air include in her empty head. That head was topped with platinum blonde hair teased with enough hairspray to get her an international reprimand under the Paris Climate Accords. Her fat face was graced by two extra chins which wobbled along with the rest of her ballooned out body as she waddled about without a care in the world just doing whatever she pleased as one big supersized id. 

She didn’t even bother to blush as she was met with a mix of cat calls and jeers, lustful stares and judgmental leers alike. Didi just carried through it all like carried herself through the majority of life, mostly oblivious. 

Once again those pesky sorority sisters came around.

“Oh, god another one of those pathetic fatties.”

“It’s a real pig show in here today.”

“They’ll just let anyone wander around with their gut hanging out. Like, that’s disgusting. People are trying to eat here.”

“You’re gross!” one of them shouted as she slapped Didi’s big sweaty belly and gave it a shake.

Didi couldn’t help but let out a little moan as her blubbery belly was touched.

“And you’re hot. Wanna bang?”

As Diana felt her big belly being pinched and shook, her old personality slipped back, and she had to admit that what she was saying she said freely. An unexpected side effect of completely emptying her mind seemed to unlock a lot of incredibly repressed sexual inhibitions, and Diana fully came forth in moments like these where she felt like she was living like Jekyll and Hyde. She felt herself practically purr at the thought of it all. As much as her fat body disgusted her, this unbridled confidence she had gained, this carnal awakening, it was intoxicating and she wanted more of it. Unlike most of the others, Diana found herself in control so much more often. She’d shift from Didi, take what she wanted and then fade back into blissful ignorance. Diana was free to live a life of unbridled lust and then let Didi live her life of unbridled gluttony. She would almost be thankful for it all if she didn’t have to spend her time being an incredible fatso, a gluttonous pig in garish pink outfits.

Old prejudices die hard, but they seeped away as another whining fart escaped her fat ass and Didi took over once again.

“Damnit, this one too!”

“Of course she’s full of gas. She’s a parade balloon!”

“You disgusting pig!”

“You cow!”

Didi was blissfully unaware of the cries of the sorority sisters as she helped herself to a cupcake before filling her own platter with a hearty multi-plate dinner and waddled over to her table of friends.

Marjorie really admired how Didi wasn’t afraid to put herself out there and was always so joyful. She was really happy for Didi and her ability to find happiness with seemingly anyone she wanted.

Of course, Marjorie was a one woman kind of gal, and the butterflies in her big fat stomach fluttered as she looked over and saw her big beautiful girlfriend entering the dining hall.