Katrina's Costume Collection Vol 1.: Sexy Pumpkin

Katrina’s (Definitely Not Cursed) Costume Collection: Sexy Pumpkin

By BS Writer

As the bells rang to signal the entrance of an unsuspecting customer, Mathilde turned in time to watch a tall and slender woman saunter through the door with a flip of her platinum blonde hair. Before Mathilde could even get to her, the woman’s iced pumpkin spice latte was already leaving a ring on the glass counter.

“Mathilde!”

Mathilde’s eye roll was interrupted by her manager calling her from the back.

“Yeah, Gwen?”

In appearance it was almost as if Mathilde and Gwendolyyn (spelt correctly) were chosen to work together because of how opposite they were. Mathilde, appropriately dressed for the season in what were conveniently her everyday clothes of a black corset top over a short black lace dress paired with ripped black jeans. One would not need three guesses to get the color of her hair and lipstick.

Mathilde’s full figure filled her corset, and the holes in her ripped jeans invited the pale flesh of her thighs to poke through.

Whereas Mathilde was wide, Gwendolyyn was willowy. Her waifish figure towered over the rather squat Mathilde despite the latter’s dedicated choice of wearing heeled combat boots. Gwen, more generally dressed for fall, was wearing lederhosen with a white blouse and long white stockings. Atop her angular nose rested a set of round but thinly framed glasses.

Gwen came staggering out of the back room, catching the door frame for balance, and brushed her lanky blonde hair back away from her face and round wire rimmed glasses. She took less than a moment to catch her breath.

“Is the entrance charm working yet?”

Without looking back, Mathilde nodded her head toward the woman who was by now loudly clacking her long brightly pink painted fingernails against the glass counter.

“Yup. First victim just walked in.”

Gwendolyyn allowed herself to let out a long sigh. She had just finished experimenting with the components of the store’s compulsion spell and had not been entirely sure her theory would pan out. Luckily, it turns out one could simply substitute the normal goat sacrifice with a mix of synthetic proteins, coconut oil and beet juice, and the spirits couldn’t tell the difference.

With her morals and employment intact, Gwendolyyn felt comfortable enough to slip back into her usual pretensions.

“They’re not victims. They’re vessels of karmic readjustment.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna go curse her ass.”

“And that lack of professionalism is why I’m the manager and you’re not.”

As Mathilde rolled her eyes, they stopped in the perfect position to spot the bright red glop of coconut oil and beet juice that was staining the top of Gwendolyyn’s blouse.

“Can I get you a napkin for that?”

Gwen looked down at the unfortunate mark of her craftsmanship.

“No.”

Gwendolyyn sucked on her collar and turned around, allowing her thoughts of patenting “Beyond Sacrifices” to carry her to the staff room where she could discreetly begin work on her business plan.

Mathilde turned back toward the customer and half-heartedly ordered her lips to contort themselves into a smile as she approached the counter.

“How can I help you?”

The customer kept her eyes glued to her phone. Mathilde couldn’t see it, but she could tell that the woman answered her with the same airy nasally vocal fry as the painfully stilted makeup tutorial that the phone was playing.

“I need a costume.”

“Would have never guessed.” Mathilde felt shielded enough by the distraction of the customer reminding herself about the glories of good contouring to throw the full weight of her sarcasm behind that remark.

Of course, that was the exact moment the video hit the ad read, and even Miss Princess couldn’t watch herself do that.

“Ummm- excuse me?”

Mathilde stumbled as she tried getting things back on track. Losing this sale would disrupt the turning of the wheel of cosmic karmic balance and cost this woman the punishment her vanity and cruelty so righteously deserved. Plus it would mean missing out on her commission which she really needed right now. The corset strings on this too were starting to get pretty taxed, and she was looking to upsize.

“Sorry. Uh, welcome to Katrina’s Costume Collection. We have a variety of definitely not cursed costumes.”

“What?”

“We have a variety of costumes. Do you have a theme you’re looking to fit?”

“Sexy.”

“Of course.” Mathilde took the opportunity presented by stepping out from behind the counter to turn around and roll her eyes.

“What?”

Mathilde turned back around with her smile pasted back on her face.

“Of course we have every kind of sexy costume you could want.”

She led the customer down an aisle and ran her hands over a couple of choice animal costumes.

“Would you like to be a sexy mouse? Sexy cat? Sexy piggy?” Mathilde’s voice quivered at the mention of sexy piggy, and for a moment she was afraid she had given herself away a bit, but luckily the customer was too busy overdoing her disgust at the mere suggestion of dressing like a swine.

“Ewww. Gross. No animals.”

Mathilde nodded and moved her right along to the next section.

“We’ve got any number of sexy professions. There’s sexy cowgirl.”

“Is that a profession?”

“I… think so? If that doesn’t do it for you, we’ve got sexy cop, sexy nurse. Maybe sexy French maid?” At that last one Mathilde pulled at her dress. It was hard not to play favorites.

“Those are all so cliche.”

That comment snapped Mathilde out of her momentary daydream. She would need to focus and not let this commission slide through her fingers. Unfortunately, she was beginning to run out of ideas. With her best customer service face on and her feet moving at the speed of restrained desperation, Mathilde made her way to the next aisle hoping that something would come to her.

“Well…. I’ve got a bunch of sexy produce?”

“Produce can be sexy?”

“Anything can be sexy with the right amount of fabric which is as little as possible.”

The customer nodded with an appreciation that was taking a moment to dawn on her. Mathilde hoped that this was one of Gwen’s secondary charms beginning to take affect.

“What you got?” asked the customer as Mathilde thought she caught the smell of burning sage.

Mathilde’s smile was real this time, and her voice perked up as she could feel herself getting closer to a sale.

“I’ve got sexy corn, sexy pumpkin, sexy blueberry.”

“I can’t picture anyone wanting sexy blueberry.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“People ask you to be a sexy blueberry?”

“Oh, they ask. It’s very popular.” Mathilde’s smile slid into a sly grin.

“I refuse to believe people are willing to pay for sexy blueberry.”

“They’ll pay.”

This time it was the customer’s turn to roll her eyes as her patience ran through her foot and caused her toes to tap on the ground.

“Well not me. Let me see the sexy pumpkin.”

Mathilde could hear the sales bell ringing as she pulled the costume bag off the rack.

“Okay. Now, technically this is a sexy jack-o-lantern, but I assume that difference won’t mean much to you.”

“Well let’s see how it makes my ass look first.”

“Sure thing.” Mathilde said with an unusual amount of glee.

As the woman took the costume and began to walk toward the changing rooms, Mathilde began to fantasize about what would await her.

“Wait!”

The sudden outburst caused the customer to spin back on her heel in confusion.

“What?”

“What’s your name?”

“Why?”

“We… uh, like to provide the best customer service possible, and being on a first name basis with our customers helps that.” And having a name to put to the face always makes the fantasy stronger.

“Madison.” the customer responded as she looked Mathilde up and down.

“Checks out.”

“Excuse me?”

Mathilde hurriedly pointed at the counter.

“After you’re done, checkout is right here. I’ll be happy to ring you up.”

Madison spun back on her heel and threw the bag over her shoulder. She gave her response without looking back at Mathilde.

“If it looks good on me first.”

It took everything Mathilde had not to tent her fingers.

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll look amazing.”

And as Madison stepped into a changing booth, Mathilde let her mind wander off and imagine Madison’s future.

Mathilde pictured Madison wearing an orange set of bra and panties. That felt appropriate. And lace. Yeah. Orange bra and panties made of lace that held tight to Madison’s tight and subtle curves. A bra that was just on the other side of full and panties that perfectly hugged Madison’s ass so just the underside of each cheek could be seen peeking out with the rest pressed against the lace, skin viewed through the most tantalizing windows.

Mathilde thought about what must be tight abdominal muscles. Madison’s shirt hung in a way that said her trim waist was cut and featured little to no body fat to speak of. Madison must be very proud of that. Mathilde bit her lip at that thought of what would soon happen to Madison’s midsection.

Mathilde’s hand slid toward her thighs as she thought about the gap between Madison’s that would soon be closed. Matty’s fingers squeezed her own thigh and felt the fat ooze through her fingers imaging that it was Madison’s lean leg growing fat and flabby in her hand.

Madison caught her breath in her throat and hung onto that image for a long moment.

But no- No! Wait on the thighs. Savor that. Come back to it- She thought. The stomach first. Her mind moved back to Madison’s abs, and she pictured her own hands running over them.

“That’s right, Madison. I know you love to show those abs off, don’t you? Yeah. You’re a vain girl, a vain, mean, sexy girl. But those abs…. They’re not sticking around. You vain, vain girl, you’re about to get real plump, pumpkin. Plump, round, juicy… jiggly.”

Mathilde bit her bottom lip, partly from the plumpening that she imagined happening in that changing room and partly from amusement at her own cleverness. It was dramatically appropriate that given Madison picked a sexy pumpkin costume that Mathilde would focus on Madison’s stomach growing round like a pumpkin, a creative decision for her fantasy that she was very happy with.

“That’s right, future fatty. Grow for me. Grow like a pumpkin in the patch. Feel your stomach pumping with fat turning abs to flab. You’re the great pumpkin now, big and round like a sexy piggy- God, I can’t wait to sell that sexy piggy costume.”

Her fingers gripped the edge of the glass counter as Mathilde pictured Madison’s stomach blooming outward.

Madison’s abs began to melt like Halloween candy left on the radiator. Her stomach began to pooch outward over her panties, losing all definition and spilling over the waistband in a soft roll of flab with the consistency of fresh cut marshmallow.

Mathilde could picture herself squeezing Madison’s belly, feeling the developing fold of fat pinched between her fingers. She savored the look of panic in Madison’s pretty eyes as her pot belly grew, becoming more and more like the pumpkin costume she had chosen.

“There’s no stopping this, my plump little pumpkin. You’re growing nice and round. And you deserve this. Yes you do because you’ve been so vain. So mean. If you weren’t so bad you wouldn’t have found this place. But now you’re here. And you’re mine. And you’re going to grow- So. Damn. Fat.”

A low moan escaped Mathilde’s mouth as she imagined herself grabbing Madison’s luscious stomach, heaving the hefty weight up and down and feeling the flesh wobble so easily at her touch.

As Madison’s pot belly grew heavier and hung lower, Mathilde allowed her hands to travel down the thighs, both her own and Madison’s.

Under Mathilde’s touch, Madison’s thighs began to thicken. Mathilde felt herself twitch as Madison’s thighs trembled with new quivering fat. The pounds piled on, and the skin around Madison’s thighs grew tight for a moment before giving in and sagging and wobbling pockmarked with cellulite.

“Love that cottage cheese and those angry stretch marks. Not so athletic anymore are you? You’re not going to be running anywhere.”

Mathilde slid her hand between Madison’s thighs so she could feel the gap close and leave her hand feeling like the piece of meat squished between two fluffy pieces of white bread.

“You’re gonna be waddling around from here on out, Thunder Thighs. No more model strut, just clumsily wobbling about with your saggy spare tire bouncing around and leading the way.”

Heat radiated from between Mathilde’s legs as she kept her hand pressed between Madison’s burgeoning thighs before moving (on cue with her taunts) and sliding it up to the overhang of Madison’s bulging belly. She ran her fingers along Madison’s underbelly, tickling the flab as she went.

“And of course that tight little heart shaped ass of yours has got to go.”

Smack!

Mathilde’s hand slapped Madison’s cheek in a satisfying spank. She could feel the remnants of muscle beginning to give way.

Slap!

In an instant Madison’s behind was beginning to bloat.

WHAP!

Madison’s blueberry butt began to wobble in hypnotic waves that brought waves of ecstasy to Mathilde as she kept swatting away and watching the well filled cushions bounce up and down and every which way she wanted them to go. She dug both her hands into those cheeks like an eagle catching its prey.

“That’s right, big girl. This is who you are now. You’re the butt of the jokes you used to make. And what a big butt it is. Isn’t that right, Chubs?”

Madison’s rear continued to expand, stretching the limits of the panties past where they should have been, and they filled Mathilde’s hands like pillows filled with sand. Yeah. Mathilde liked that idea even if it didn’t totally make sense.

“This has been fun. Now let’s see about the rest of you.”

Mathilde ran her fingers up and down Madison’s wiry arms.

“Oh my. These slender things are going to have to go. Chunk up, baby. Wave those things and give me some bingo wings!”

Madison did as she was told and raised her arms in the air. She gave them a shake, and Mathilde watched with a laugh as the athletic arms filled with fat. The flab began to wobble below her elbows. What were once slim symbols of grace and elegance had become limp with lazy fat, filled with insidious adipose.

“Now those are some arms that are far better suited to lifting doughnuts than lifting weights. And it’s gonna take a lot of doughnuts to fill that greedy gut of yours.”

Madison's forearms also succumbed to Mathilde’s whims. They thickened, causing her wrists and hands to appear smaller by comparison. But it wasn’t for long. Her delicate hands soon followed. Mathilde knew it was a cliche to think of fingers filling with fat like sausages, but she couldn’t help but indulge herself as she imagined Madison’s hands doing just that, becoming thick and pink and pudgy. They were a far cry from the delicate digits they had once been.

“Getting those arms nice and plump has been fun, but let’s see how big those breasts can be.”

True to Mathilde’s words, Madison’s breasts began to swell overflowing the cups over her overtaxed bra. The back fat that stretched the band combined with the expanding mounds of billowy fat that began to surge forward and sag downward threatened to snap the bra right off.

“Not yet. Not. Yet.”

Madison’s chest was already ample and alluring, but as the adipose caused her bust to balloon further, Mathilde began to salivate.

“Oh but, baby. We need to focus on your face.”

Mathilde gently grabbed Madison by the chin and enjoyed the look of fear in her green- no blue- no- doesn’t matter- eyes… yes- the fear in her eyes.

“Such an angelic face. But so cold. Let’s give you a sweet face, a sweet, plump face. Right, Pumpkin?”

She savored the sight of a single tear falling from Madison’s eye. Its path was carved by the curving of Madison’s chubby cheeks. As Madison’s face continued to fill until it was a fat full moon, her chin fell and gave way to a second. Mathilde gave this newest piece of flesh a playful poke.

“That’s more like it.”

As Mathilde stepped back to admire her handiwork, her daydreaming was interrupted by the sound of the dressing room curtain pulling back. Mathilde’s breath hitched as she got to see what Madison actually looked like in her new costume.

—---------

“Damn it.”

Madison looked hot, but not hot in the way that Mathilde was counting on her looking. She looked typically hot, stereotypically hot, perfectly slim and sexy and nothing out of the ordinary hot.

The pumpkin outfit itself was a bright orange spandex leotard that hugged her slim but curvy body like a second skin and did a fantastic job of highlighting the trim hourglass of her figure. It cinched well around her thin waist and showed off the curve of her hips. The thighs are wrapped in dark brown and green fishnets designed to look inspired by vines. They glided up shapely and toned thighs. As Madison spun around like an elegant model in heels, Mathilde caught a glimpse of just how well the costume hugged Madison’s taught bubble butt.

“Damn. That girl works out.” Mathilde muttered under her breath as Madison sauntered over toward the counter.

The front of the costume was cut in a way that gave a generous view of Madison’s cleavage while appearing like the top of a carved pumpkin. The triangles dipped just low enough to show the perfect tasteful flash of black bra.

“Lace indeed.” That thought, at least, let a little hum run through Mathilde’s body.

What made the pumpkin costume technically a jack-o-lantern was the fact that it had several cutouts on the torso for the eyes and a carved out smile. The cutouts were filled with sheer black fabric that gave just a glimpse of the toned abs that were waiting underneath.

“Nice bod. Not a single damn change though.” Mathilde screamed internally. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Wasn’t she supposed to be different? Changed? Karmically realigned or whatever it was? Wasn’t that the whole point? And yet Madison did indeed look- not just normal- but extremely hot. She would, Mathilde had no doubt, turn a million heads for all the right reasons, but none of those were the reasons Mathilde wanted. None of this was close to what she wanted.

What Mathilde wanted was an obese Madison quivering in a mix of fear and humiliation with flab flopping everywhere as she felt the sting of every insult she had ever hurled at someone else. And Mathilde wanted to be there to squeeze her blubbery belly, laugh in her face, and then lead her off to her bedroom.

Okay- that last bit almost definitely wasn’t going to happen. But still! Madison could have at least had the common decency to come waddling out of the changing room. Getting to see what happens to her victims was supposed to be one of the perks of the job.

Damn it!

“There’s a hat.” said Mathilde through gritted teeth.

“What?”

Mathilde held up the hat that she had clenched in her trembling hand.

“It’s a cute hat.” she said while trying to regain her normal breathing pattern.

The hat itself was less of a hat and more of a cake topper for her head. It was a spirling pumpkin stem and miniature version of a cut pumpkin top. It was pinned to her hair and had some glittery leaves on it. It was in no way no way proportional to the rest of the costume but-

“It is a cute hat.” Madison said with a vain little giggle as she modeled the hat in the mirror.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, Madison felt a haze come over her, and she blinked. There was a smell coming from somewhere, a heavenly smell.

Her iced pumpkin spiced latte.

Madison had always loved the smell, the taste. That was why she bought it every year- that and the traditional social media branding. But now it felt like she was smelling the latte for the first time, and it was incredible. She clawed at the latte and sucked on the straw. And sucked. And sucked.

Mathilde tapped her foot and sighed.

“That will be the price that must be paid… and also sixty bucks.”

With one hand still clenched around the latte as Madison continued to suck it down, she reached into her purse and pulled out her card. As she handed it over to Mathilde, she heard the disappointing gasp of the last bit of liquid being pulled from the ice. She shook the remains of her beverage, took one last desperate drag and then slammed it on the counter.

“Thank you.” she said as she took her card back and sauntered back to the changing booth.

Mathilde groaned and grabbed the small garbage bin to throw out the-

Wait. Up until a few moments okay this had been a mostly full beverage leaving an annoying water ring on her counter. But now… now it was completely empty. Sucked. Down. Mathilde’s lips curled into a genuine smile as she caught the last whiff of the pumpkin spice as she dropped the cup in trash.

“Someone’s going to have an interesting night.”

And although Mathilde knew she wasn’t going to be able to be there, she purred at the knowledge she would enjoy imagining it all. Maybe it was a good time to head to the food court and get herself a pumpkin spiced latte and then find a dark quiet place and…

“Gwen! I’m gonna take my break!”

Mathilde waddled out from behind the counter and toward the food court with her mind already running wild. Yes. This was going to be everything her job had promised. She just went about thinking of it the wrong way before. It wasn’t about instant gratification. This was going to be so much sweeter, not just instant blubber and her to squeeze it. There would be binging! And laughter! And maybe even a ripping costume! Blubber would bulge!

The thud of the glass wall momentarily broke Mathilde’s trance and she shook her head and looked back to be sure that Gwen wasn’t looking. Saved from her own embarrassment, Mathilde went back to fantasizing about Madison's evening and her embarrassment to come.

Of course, it wouldn’t be imaginary for Madison. For her it would be humiliatingly real. And Mathilde was right.

It would be an interesting night.

—-----------------------

The party was quite the affair, as it always was. The Alpha Zeta Zeta Halloween Party was a huge deal on campus, and it was tradition for important recent alumni like Madison to make an appearance.

Last year, Madison had organized and run the perfect party as sorority president, and she was eager to see what her former little, and current president, Rachel would throw. She was certain it would be a divine party with just the perfect amount of flaws to peck at later. After all, Rachel was a friend, but she still needed to know that she had impossible shoes to fill.

“Rachel!” Madison shouted shrilly as soon as she entered the crowded room. All nearby eyes turned toward her, and Rachel set down her candy bowl to bee-line toward her friend. (Which was fitting as a sexy bumblebee was her choice of costume for the evening.)

“Madison! You look stunning,” said Rachel as she kissed Madison’s cheek and ass at the same time.

“I know,” said Madison through an easy smile and with a well practiced hair flip.

“So… glad you could make it,” was Rachel’s response as Madison’s signature hair flip was already putting her on the back foot. She was quickly and quietly becoming afraid that this would be a long night.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” claimed Madison with a twitch of her cheek before finally returning Rachel’s initial welcome kiss.

Madison looked Rachel’s costume up and down. It was a mini-dress with yellow and black stripes and complete with wings, stinger, and adorable wiggly antennae headband. Rachel had paired this with black tights whose plainness stood out next to Madison’s fishnets.

“Have you gained weight or are you pregnant?”

“What?!?” Rachel nearly fell over at the accusation.

“Bumblebee costume.” Madison pointed her finger at Rachel’s midsection and pursed her lips.

“Perfect for hiding figure flaws.”

Rachel’s face grew beet red.

“It’s just a cute costume, Madison,” scoffed Rachel, which did nothing but garner a curt laugh from the former A.Z.Z president who clearly still felt like she had the run of this place. Rachel had no idea how Madison had been able to keep her figure so perfectly in check while under the stress of being sorority president. She wished for just a moment that she could watch Madison break.

Yes. That would be sweet, to see a fat and sloppy Madison upended by her own greed and gluttony. She longed for the chance to see Madison subjected to the same cruel stares and comments she had thrown at others. With eyes closed for just a single blink of a moment, she pictured a bloated Madison stuffed into her sexy pumpkin costume and stuffing her face.

Madison, for her part, was satisfied that she had made her desired impression and properly reminded Rachel of her place, so she decided to let her off the hook… for now.

“Sure. Bumblebee. Fitting. You always did know how to sting.”

“I learned from the best,” responded Rachel. And now it was her turn at a cheek twitch.

The two laughed together, happy with their mutually perceived cleverness, and completely oblivious to the fact that bumblebees are the one species of bee that do not sting.

“Now let’s see how the rest of this party is shaking out.”

Madison had Rachel lead her further into the party and let her watchful gaze peruse the party guests. The gentlemen were fine if boorish as always. It was the ladies that Madison was truly concerned about. Her legacy was this sorority and she had to make sure it was staying in shape.

Speaking of shape, Madison was less than happy with the quality of freshmen recruits she was seeing. Girls she did not recognize were certainly carrying a few more pounds than she ever would have allowed into the sorority. AZZs with tight asses. That was the vision she subscribed to and had fought to uphold. PC culture be damned, she would need to have a long conversation with Rachel later about maintaining standards.

Madison saw a particularly wide girl waddle past her carrying a box of something. Madison glared at her wide-load ass crammed into a costume that may as well have been a sexy land whale. But the box…. There was a scent coming from the box that Madison couldn’t deny enjoying a temptation to-

No! No temptations. No room for error. Madison could never let herself become anything like the fat girl with the box. Diets and control were for winners. Giving into temptation was for losers.

And yet… it seemed like the universe, and more specifically Rachel was pulling her in that direction.

“And here’s the snack table!” Rachel pointed out with glee.

“We moved to more of a potluck model this year. We really feel like that makes for great community building.”

Madison inspected the snack table. Pretzels, chips, candy, cupcakes, pumpkin spiced cookies and more.

“Now I understand the bumblebee costume,” Madison scoffed as she pulled Rachel away from the snack table.

“People really like it.”

“Too much.”

Rachel chose to ignore the comment and instead focused on moving like a non-stop train right through all the plans she had for the year, the initiatives she had already started as well as the ones she was most excited about. And Madison did her best to keep up with the now one sided conversation as Rachel droned on and on.

But just the thought of those pumpkin spice cookies were enough to turn her eyes back toward the table.

Madison unconsciously rubbed her lower lip with her tongue. Maybe it was just her imagination but she could swear she could catch the scent of those cookies tickling her nostrils even from across the room. The sweet scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves called out to her, drawing her like a moth to a flame.

“Excuse me.”

She was powerless to resist the siren call of the cookies and had to fight herself to avoid making a scene by breaking into a run toward them. Instead she maintained her cool and slinked past a few would-be conversationalists and sauntered up to the table. As she stared down at the delightful temptations, her tongue swirled around her lips and removed the last of her lip gloss. Madison looked over her shoulder as her slender fingers slowly walked along the edge of the table and danced up to the tray piled high with cookies.

“Just one,” thought Madison as her nimble fingers climbed up onto one of the cookies. Her heart fluttered as she felt the cinnamon sugar crystals pressed against her finger tips.

Hand and head worked in tandem as Madison snatched up the cookie and whipped her head around at the same time to make the transition into her eager mouth seamless. The whole cookie was down into two bites leaving no time for witnesses and no trace save for a few crumbs that had fallen to the table. The rest of the cookie coated Madison’s tongue with cinnamon and nutmeg and cloves as it slid past and down her throat.

She tried to walk away. She really did. She tried to remind herself that diets are for winners, that only naughty girls sneak snacks, and that too many desserts is a problem for porkers. She couldn’t let herself act like a chubby chick. And yet…. She couldn’t stop thinking about that pumpkin spice cookie.

A moan worked its way up her throat in response, and Madison found that the best way to stop herself from vocalizing her pleasure was to plug up her mouth with another cookie. Two! Two just to be safe. These went into her mouth with equal speed but far less grace than the first one. The crumbs smashed against her lips and cascaded downward landing mostly on the table with a few stragglers hanging onto her cleavage.

“Just one or two more and then I’ll-“

It seemed to Madison like she must have blacked out for a moment because before she finished the thought she looked down to see her hands sticky with cinnamon sugar and other spices and a major dent had been made in the plate of cookies.

“Ummm…. Madison?” It was her friend Rachel whose eyes were wide with concern.

And a hint of glee.

“You’ve got some ummm…” Rachel gestured to her own impressive chest with a brushing motion.

Madison looked down and saw the crumbs laying on top of and stuck in the middle of her cleavage. A few more eyes were starting to turn in her direction, and not for the usual reasons she would have wanted them to. She knew she needed to discreetly brush the crumbs away. Perhaps a little bit of a show and the right amount of subtle jiggling might in fact turn things around and swing this toward the positive. Yes. She was the only one she knew who could turn a moment of pigging out into a social triumph.

Her hands began to brush the crumbs away, but as she reached into her cleavage to pull out some of the pieces that had fallen there, her fingers squeezed the cookie crumbs, rolled them over, and considered them deeply. She could feel that familiar cinnamon sugar… the tasty spices… the pumpkin.

Before she knew it, the crumbs were out of her cleavage and into her mouth followed by her fingers, knuckle deep as she sucked down on them to claim every sprinkle of sugar and spice that she could get. Her tongue greedily slid around her fingers collecting the sweetness.

“Uggh. Eww,” Rachel blurted out as she recoiled and walked away. Her interjection was what broke Madison from her trance and allowed her to realize what a show she was making of herself. She popped her fingers out of her mouth. It made quite the sound as her lips fought against the release. Madison started to chase after her friend to try to salvage the moment when a late arrival to the party, a chubby girl who Madison did not know, came and slapped down another large tray of pumpkin spice cookies right next to the old one.

“These ones have cream cheese icing!”

Madison took a step toward the fleeing Rachel, but her body immediately threw her into a pivot, and she barreled toward the table. She elbowed the chubby chick out of the way and practically threw herself at the cream cheese icing covered confections. Two at a time, the cookies made their way into her awaiting maw. Icing flew about and crumbs found an array of new homes.

Off to the side two women of unimportant names looked over at the display at the snack table.

“Is that… is that Madison?”

“It is.”

“She’s certainly putting on a show.”

“She is.”

“And did she do something to her hair?”

“Not sure.”

“Are you gonna say more than two words at a time?”

“Am not.”

There was indeed something different with Madison’s hair, not that she had done anything about it on purpose. Instead, on its own, it had grown even more fitting with her costume of choice. The familiar platinum sheen had given way to a gingery orange, and fitting her ravenous eating style, it had grown wild and fizzy like over teased strings of sugar. This all went unnoticed by Madison at the moment as she continued her feasting. What did not go unnoticed were the words of another set of passersbys who chuckled as they walked past her.

“Madison’s really going to town on those cookies.”

“Hell yeah. And it shows.”

“Damn right. That costume is looking kinda tight.”

“And not in the good way.”

At this, Madison felt a tinge run down her spine. She shot up, and, as she did, she could feel the response of the costume as it pulled tight against the new and unwanted pounds. She could feel herself pressing against the seams of the spandex, and her hands immediately flew to her belly- stomach- no- somehow she already knew.

And sure enough, when they got there, Madison let out an internal scream that momentarily shook her out of her hunger. There was a tightness to her costume and a horrifying softness to her tummy. Her fingers delicately squeezed the pounds of fat that had collected around her midsection. They pushed inward, sinking into softness. She fought the urge to squeeze and shake and try to push the fat back in, but she still had the wherewithal to realize that she was still in the middle of a crowded party. Hopefully people hadn’t noticed her unfortunate figure issues. Maybe she could just walk out the door- maybe even head to an all night gym.

Yes. That was what she could do. As she turned toward the door, she could feel the weight of her pudgy belly move with her. She had to fight the urge to catch it as the starter pot belly bounced up and down. With a step, she felt the slightest tremor of her thighs starting to soften.

This was a mistake. Coming to this party had been a mistake. How could she have let herself be seen like this? How could she have bought this costume? It must have been some kind of trick of the light and the mirrors in that shop. She would have to file a better business bureau complaint, and a lawsuit! It had to have been their fault. Not hers. It couldn’t have been hers.

She shouldn’t have come like this. Obviously, she had become less strict with her diet than she had realized, and now people who were less than she was were getting to have a laugh at her expense. She couldn’t stand for that. No!

No. It couldn’t have been her fault. She was perfect. Her diet was perfect. Her looks were perfect. It was just one bad night right now. The cookies! What was in the delicious cookies? It was the incredible, tasty, delicious, sugary, sweet, phenomenal cookies to blame. But who could one- just one more- no! How could one little binge of cookies do this kind of damage already. She was a smokehouse. A winner. Unbeatable. Always in control. Always… and to become this? To suddenly find herself on the road to being a fatty? A loser? A FAT loser?!? And all because of a cookie- okay more than one cookie, but just because of a few perfectly delectable cookies? Impossible. Then what?

It didn’t matter. She needed to leave. She needed to go home, peel this costume off, burn it, and then do sit ups until this jiggling jello turned back into her famous abs. She took another step toward the door.

But just one more…

Like Orpheus, Madison couldn’t help but turn back and seal her fate. She looked over at the disheveled tray of cookies, and then her eyes continued until they landed on a box next to them. A box filled with….

“Pumpkin. Spiced. Doughnuts.”

Madison pounced at the table. Her entire body jiggled as she slammed against it, nearly sending some of the more precariously balanced snack trays flying. And her wild eyes were wide with hunger as she clawed at the doughnuts.

Haunched over the table, with her elbows pressing against cookie crumbs, Madison couldn’t help herself. She was like a ravenous animal. No longer willing to stand up straight and wait the extra time it took to take the doughnuts from the box and bring them up to her mouth, Madison was now directly over the box so she could shove the doughnuts into her mouth as quickly as possible.

The sound of her eating was audible to the people walking by, but the sound of their laughter was drowned out by Madison’s singular focus. She. Needed. More. Doughnuts. Their siren song was irresistible. Their texture was perfect. The flavor, to die for- to kill for!

God help anyone who tried to get to that snack table. These were doughnuts worth murdering over, and if anyone tried to get in Madison’s way the only thing that could have saved them from their own destruction would be the fact that Madison would have been too distracted by the constant stream of doughnuts that she was so busy inhaling to complete the dark and deadly deed. But someone would have at least walked away with a sharp elbow to some soon to be broken ribs or maybe even a concussion. There was no getting between Madison and her snacks!

Luckily, those who were cognizant of the show that was going on in front of them were smart enough to either ignore it or sit back and enjoy it.

As she shoveled doughnut after doughnut into her mouth, her body fell into a rhythm and leaned into its desires and instincts until it became the optimal doughnut eating system.

With her right hand she would stuff a doughnut into her mouth. Inevitably, that doughnut would fall apart as, even with her mouth doing its best impression of an unhinged anaconda, Madison wasn’t physically capable of fitting an entire doughnut into her mouth at once. Instead, her left hand would collect the inevitable doughnut chunks and shove them into her mouth while her right hand selected its next deep fried delight.

She was an efficient eating machine whose output was pure gluttony.

Even her breathing was cooperative as every part of her body worked at its peak to consume as many doughnuts as quickly as possible. Madison had never been a practiced singer before, and yet, she had somehow picked up a knack for circular breathing. Her feasting was only ever interrupted by a few tell tale snorts.

This was to say nothing of the greatest contributor to her gormandizing.

Her stomach.

Most people would have stopped after one or two donuts. A braver few would have given up after three or four. Certainly five or six!

But Madison devoured dough as if she was a competitive eater whose stomach had trained its entire life for this very moment. An outside observer could not hope to have an idea of how many doughnuts Madison was consuming because her speed was simply too great. Dough filled her cheeks and was down the throat before it could be seen and accounted for.

Her impressive display of binging was beginning to attract more onlookers at this point. They couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of the formerly petite president cramming her face with junk food. The whispers were starting, and the comments were snide.

“Is that Madison? She’s really let herself go,” chuckled one current junior who had remembered Madison’s years of tyranny.

“Former president is a piggy,” laughed another in response. They had pledged together and put up with a multitude of diva moments from Madison. The ability to revel in her downfall was a sweet bit of schadenfreude that neither would soon forget.

“Should have thought twice about that costume, especially if she’s going to be eating like that.”

“Those seams are struggling!”

Some of the gentlemen who had been eyeing Madison since she walked into the party were continuing to do so now. Their eyes glued to her expanding ass as they talked about it.

“Damn, Madison got porky,” chortled the

“Yeah. Check out that ass. It’s fat!” said one of the senior guys to his friend in a statement that was both painfully obvious and delivered entirely too loudly since they were right next to each other.

“But not good fat.”

“Nah. Like soft fat.”

“Squishy.”

“Dimply.”

Both men couldn’t deny it. As they looked at Madison bent over that table with her fat dimpled dumper waving in the air. Squishy bags of cellulite be damned, they still each wanted to ride that rump.

“I’d still hit it though.”

“Same. But I wouldn’t tell anybody about it.”

“Hell yeah, dude.”

They had their dignity after all, unlike Madison who was still housing doughnuts non-stop. With each doughnut her ass cheeks grew further and wobbled a bit more. She moaned with pleasure at her feast and sent little shivers down her body that ended with her soft, plump cheeks swaying from side to side. Their weight magnified every little movement Madison made, but she did not care. She had no idea of the show she was giving away for free. She could only care about the next doughnut.

Only two things could have happened to stop Madison’s feast, and they both happened at approximately the exact same time. One, she simply ran out of doughnuts. Without even realizing it, she just got to the point where she reached for another one and grabbed nothing but air. Instead, she found herself tipping the corner of the box up to get at whatever crumbs and spice crystals were left. And as the last of those tumbled into her wide open mouth, that’s when the second thing hit her.

She could feel her belly pressing against the table.

As Madison threw down the box and pulled herself away from the table, she felt like she was moving further backward than she intended. Just like everything else, even her movement was out of control. As the curse of the costume bound her to binging, so did she now feel herself bound by her body to gravity and physics. The weight she had put on was all swinging in the same direction and pulling her with it. This stumbling had the effect of pulling her further into the center of the room while, at the same time, drawing even more eyes to her chubby crumb and sugar covered form.

And those eyes were hungry.

But they were not hungry for the reasons that Madison was used to. These were not stares of jealousy, lust or admiration. They were stares of bemusement, amusement, and derision. They were bad stares.

Madison looked down and found that her gut had indeed grown bigger than ever. Her chubby fingers cradled an impressive pot belly that threatened to burst out of her tight costume, especially through the eyes and mouth of the jack-o-lantern face where the black fabric was thinner. Without taking into account the reactions of others, Madison couldn’t help herself and heaved her blubber up and down several times. It was a sensation that was incredibly alien, and yet she could not deny that this was indeed her.

She could not deny that the laughter that was happening was being hurled in her direction either.

“Damn girl, you really let yourself go.”

Madison turned around to see Rachel approaching with a big grin on her face. She could see Rachel’s finger beginning to reach toward her pudge. On instinct, she tried to recoil backward, but her back fat was soon pressed against the snack table, and Rachel’s accusatory finger found itself sinking into Madison’s plush pot belly.

“I think this outfit fit better quite a few pounds ago,” Rachel sneered as she dug her finger deeper into Madison’s blubbery belly.

“Ow!” Madison swat Rachel’s hand away, but Rachel’s reaction was simply to reach forward with her other hand and catch one of Madison’s love handles, an action that caused a cheer from the crowd.

“Look at that! I can pinch an inch!”

The chubbette had never felt so deeply vulnerable in her entire life. This was an outrage! And yet… she felt completely powerless to stop Rachel from doing exactly what she wanted.

“P-please,” she whimpered.

“Please just leave me alone.”

But Rachel’s response was a simple but damning shake of her head.

“Oh, Madison. We are so far from done with you.”

Madison tried to squirm away, but Rachel wouldn’t let her. She kept her thrust up against the snack table. One hand squeezed Madison’s gut with a steady pulsing rhythm while Rachel walked the fingers of her other hand up Madison’s chest.

“What’s the matter Madison? Can’t handle a little scrutiny? I remember you had quite the critical eye when you ran this place. And now the gaze comes back around to you, chubs.”

Rachel leaned forward, pressed her entire body up against Madison’s flab, and whispered into her ear.

“You deserve this.”

She pulled Madison into the center of the room and gave the tubby girl a twirl.

“Check out this chub, everyone!”

Madison spun around and felt her flabby thighs clap together as everyone else followed along and chimed in with mock applause.

“You’ve got some real nerve trying to strut in here and act like you still own the place with your frizzy orange hair, your fat ass, and your cheap dimestore orange tan. Course, you can’t really do much strutting with those thunder thighs, can you?”

Madison was aghast as tears began to well up in her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Too late for apologies. You wanted to torment others, you wanted to lord over everyone with your figure. Well you’ve got a pretty fat figure now, so let’s show it off! What do you want to check out next, folks?”

Rachel bent Madison over and gave her butt a loud smack. The crowd recoiled with an audible “OOF!” and then went right back into waves of laughter as they watched Rachel give a few more spanks. Each one caused Madison’s chubby cellulite covered cheeks to bounce.

“There’s the ass that used to turn heads now the ass of someone who doesn’t turn down seconds! And look at those hips. Girl, the way you eat, they’re going to get so wide you’ll be needing to crisco yourself through doorways. I’d say you’d need to go through sideways, but I think we can all tell how big that gut of yours is going to get.”

The new president of Alpha Zeta Zeta put her hand on the former president’s formerly flat tummy and began to wobble it around as she teased her.

“Come on. Admit it… fatty.”

Fat as she was, covered in crumbs and by an outfit that was threatening to burst at the seams, Madison still refused to give in as she held onto what was left of her pride.

But the poking… the pinching… the jiggling. All of this continued paired with Rachel’s humiliating dare.

“Admit. It. FATTY.”

“Fatty! Fatty! Fatty!” chanted the raucous crowd. Rachel’s cruelty mixed with the sweet schadenfreude of seeing Madison reduced to this state had whipped them into a frenzy.

“FATTY! FATTY! FATTY!”

Rachel knew she had the crowd in the palm of her hand and Madison right where she wanted her, and she wasn’t going to let go.

“Admit it.”

Madison would have done anything to get away at that moment, and total capitulation seemed the fastest route to an exit.

“Yes. I- I admit it. I’m fat. I’m fat now, okay? I don’t know how it happened, but I’m- I’m a fatty. A fatty who’s only going to get fatter. Happy?”

Rachel bit her lip and clicked her tongue against her teeth.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Madison, frankly, I just don’t know how you went this long without realizing how much weight you’ve gained.”

Madison’s head felt fuzzy and everything went slow.

“I… neither can I.”

“I guess you just really let yourself go.”

“I guess I just really let myself go,” nodded Madison as her mind accepted this as the most logical option.

Rachel grabbed Madison’s hand.

“Well, I am glad you stopped by,” she said as she patronizingly patted the top of Madison’s hand and then raised Madison’s flabby arm so everyone could watch as it jiggled. Madison was frozen in fear, and Rachel took the opportunity to slink around her and raise her other arm so the crowd could clearly see the full set of bingo wings Madison was now sporting.

“Weren’t you an athlete? You were so strong. Now look at these weak, flabby arms. You’re weak. That’s how you go this way. That’s why you’ll stay this way. Weakness. You. Are. Pathetic.”

She leaned in close again and twisted a roll of Madison’s back fat.

“Say it.”

“I…. I’m pathetic,” gulped Madison as a bead of nervous sweat rolled down her forehead.

Rachel plucked the last pumpkin spiced cookie, a partly broken one that had somehow found itself unnoticed and neglected, and shoved it into Madison’s mouth.

“Good girl. You’ve earned a treat. We can all see how much you love treats.”

With a condescending pinch of Madison’s chubby cheeks, Rachel continued her taunts.

“It really is great to see you like this, especially since your social media postings have so clearly been lacking the truth. But don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll all be making sure people get to see the real you.”

Madison looked around the room with wild eyes. Finally able to break her intense focus on Rachel, she was able to see just how much of a spectacle she was to a room full of people with cellphones capturing her downfall. Rachel stepped aside to make sure everyone had an unobstructed view of Madison’s humiliation.

“That’s right, everyone. Make sure you get her good side. Get her bad side too. Get her FAT side which is all of them. Of course, circles don’t really have sides, and, with the way she’s going, she’s going to end up so round she doesn’t have them at all.”

Without realizing it, as Madison staggered around looking for a way out, she was in fact spinning around and giving everyone perfect three-sixty views of her ballooning figure.

“I’ll… I’ll leave. I never should have come. You’re right. I’ve let myself go. Now- now let me go. I’m a fatty. Okay? Just- just let me waddle on home,” sobbed Madison as she tried to collect herself enough to find her way toward the door.

Rachel was about to let her go. (She had had her fun.) But then she heard the turning of wheels which led to the turning of wheels in her head. As she saw the cart being wheeled into the room, laden with even more desserts, Rachel just couldn’t resist, knowing Madison couldn’t resist.

“But wait, Madison,” she said as she sauntered over to the cart.

“You couldn’t possibly leave us,”

And picked up a dessert.

“Without trying a piece of pie.”

Madison spun around on her heel, and her nose sniffed the air. She shouldn’t. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She just needed to turn back around and head home, even as Rachel held the pie directly under her nose. She was stronger than this. She could leave right now and save herself a small drop of honor. Yes. All she had to do was reject this one extra dessert and that would be the last memory people at this party would have of her, her restraint.

But then Rachel said the magic words.

“It’s pumpkin.”

Madison practically slammed her face into the pie. As whipped cream shot up her nose, she snorted and continued her quest to devour the pie in her hands as quickly as possible. In short order, the pie itself had disappeared save for the traces of it that remained smeared all over Madison’s face.

She didn’t even have time to savor the flavor of the pumpkin pie before someone else handed her another one. In an automatic motion, one half crumpled pie tin was tossed to the floor and the second was brought right up to her awaiting mouth. With her double chin bouncing with anticipation, Madison dove in as the partygoers began to cheer her on.

The hooting and hollering, clapping and stomping, all grew as Madison found herself consuming a third pie!

All the while her costume grew tighter as her body grew more rotund. The sheer black panels in the front of the costume ripped first which led to Madison’s belly fat ooozing out from the jack-o-lantern mouth like spoiled biscuit dough through a ruptured container. Then the sides of her costume began to split and fray, unleashing thick, doughy love handles decorated with bright orange stretch marks.

Unfettered, Madison’s fat hands shoveled more and more pie into her mouth. Pie by the slice! Mini-pies! More whole ones! Store bought or fairly freshly baked, Madison’s sausage fingers stuffed each one into her face without care about their origin until her chubby chipmunk cheeks could cram in no more. As she snorted, and sputtered, chunks of pie fell to her chest and the floor. Those pieces that fell to her chest soon found their way back to her mouth. Those that made it to the floor were left there thanks to the last withering shred of decency and dignity that Madison had left.

She wasn’t wearing the sexy piggy costume after all.

No one could say exactly how many pumpkin pies Madison ate. Nobody bothered to keep count. After all, it wasn’t the number that was important. It was the show that everyone got to bear witness to, and they all knew they were graced with something special, something almost otherworldly.

When she was done, Madison was a big ball of lard with every part of her stretched round with fat. With her frizzy orange hair and her bad tan looking skin, she truly did look very fitting in her costume (not that the costume fit very well at all). It was somehow still clinging on, desperately, but, like a lumpy gourd, bulges of fat popped through whatever seams were busted.

And there were many.

Rachel smiled and reached over to grab a big bulge of Madison’s double belly. She pulled Madison forward and got her arm as far as she could around Madison’s fat waist and back. Rachel pressed herself once again against Madison.

Madison’s body had grown so immense, so filled with soft fat, that Rachel’s body appeared to start to sink into it, to almost become enmeshed with the adipose, fused with the flab. She couldn’t help herself and bit Madison’s earlobe.

A hint of sugar and spice graced her tongue.

“I think it’s time for you to get going now. You don’t need any more dessert,” she whispered.

She slid her hands down and needed both hands to grab a single one of Madison’s dimpled ass cheeks. The soft pillowy fat still oozed through her fingers.

“This is the ass of an AZZ who will never be thin again.”

Madison caught her crumb covered reflection in a mirror, at least what she could see of it since the width of her body expanded beyond the frame. She couldn’t explain how she had gotten this way, but she knew that Rachel’s words were true. She was fat forever, never to be thin again. And so all she wanted to do now was to waddle home and devour an entire pint or six of pumpkin spiced ice cream.

With her head down and double chin fully inflated, Madison began her walk of shame home. Sadly, she failed to realize that all of the wild stomping and partying while she was feasting had shifted the rug in the living room just enough to make a bump for Madison’s fat foot to catch on it. The fat girl fell forward and hit the floor with a thud. Luckily for her, her fat folds cushioned the fall.

Unluckily for her, several strapping gentlemen took this opportunity to roll her like an oversized pumpkin toward the door.

—--

Mathilde finally found herself enjoying the spoils of her job.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?” screamed a customer as she grabbed hold of her exposed belly and gave it a hard shake to emphasize both the size of her specific problem area and the size of her anger.

“Looks like a pretty pudgy belly to me,” laughed Mathilde, practically having to fight falling out of her chair.

The customer, when she walked in, had been tiny and lithe, the kind of woman who looked and walked like a dancer, most specifically like a prima ballerina. Now, standing in front of Mathilde, she was still quite short but far from lithe. While not growing in height, she had certainly grown in width. Every part of her body had chubbed up, especially from the middle down.

Her previously pointe ready feet were now fat and flat, weighted down by the thunder of thick thighs that hoisted up a plump piece of an ass filled with juicy fat and paired with a wide set of hips enwrapped by matching love handles. And none of this held a candle to the belly which the customer herself now held onto with her chubby hands. While the rest of her had thickened, (she now had a clear double chin, softer arms, and her previously modest breasts and grown somewhat in weight but much more in sag) this all paled in comparison to the pale glob of gut that the customer was left shaking. Where once was washboard abs, now there were waves of flab shaking up and down.

“If you didn’t want such a prominent belly. You shouldn’t have chosen the belly dancer costume,” shrugged Mathilde.

“It was just for fun!” exclaimed the BELLY dancer with a stomp of her foot.

Mathilde poked the turgid pot belly. She shivered as her finger sunk into the yielding flesh and caused the bells on the customer’s sash to jingle. It was music to Mathilde’s ears.

“And now you’ve learned your lesson. Culture. Is not. Costume.” With each poke, the customer grew redder. Mathilde thrilled at the sight of the now former ballerina’s pudge pushing inward and then popping back into place. It was like a dance in and of itself.

“Well, I… I’m not paying for this,” whined the bloated ballerina as she wiped a tear from her eye.

Mathilde couldn’t help herself and grabbed both of the customer’s love handles.

“Looks like you already have!” She positively cackled. It was one of those throw back your head full throated Disney villain type of laughs. Ursula would have been proud.

The poor unfortunate soul’s newly round face now looked like a tomato has her body which had filled with fat now filled with both humiliation and anger.

“Let go of me, you cow!”

Mathilde did as she was told, albeit with a few more pats to the sides first. She pressed on the customer’s love handles as if she was smoothing out wrinkles on a dress.

“Okay, kettle. Let’s relax,” she said as she gave the fat overhang of the customer’s belly one more flick and watched it jiggle on its own for a moment while chuckling to herself.

“I want to see your manager.”

Mathilde’s smile instantly vanished and she stared at the customer with a face of stone seriousness.

“Trust me. You do not want that.”

“I- I’m gonna sue you!”

Mathilde leaned back on the counter and shook her head.

“Lady, let me let you in on how some of this magic stuff works. Once you leave here, you’re never going to be able to find us again. Second, who the hell is going to believe you? ‘Oh! The magic costume shop in the mall cursed me and now I’m fat! Nobody is buying that truth. They’re just going to think you’re crazy and that they somehow never realized how much weight you’ve been gaining recently.”

Mathilde leaned forward and tickled the customer’s double chin.

“And then they’re going to be really happy about it. Do you know why? It’s cause you’re a bitch. You’ve probably always been a bitch. And if it wasn’t for this, right here, you’d probably go on being a big ol’ bitch. But now you’re just gonna be big. Big now. Big forever. Probably gonna get bigger. And now people are going to savor the way karma has bit you in the BIG. FAT. ASS!”

Really feeling herself, Mathilde gave the customer’s rump a smack.

“Try to enjoy it.”

The customer wanted to retort, but she felt her belt getting tighter. To her horror, her belly was still growing larger. Mathilde noticed too, and this elicited another peal of laughter.

“Oops. Looks like you’re still growing. If you don’t want to end up in a scooter, I suggest you get that costume off. And, since I doubt you’re squeezing back into any of the clothes that you came in here in, if you don’t want to be going about stark naked, I suggest you waddle on home as quickly as possible.

The customer turned frantically to begin doing just that when Mathilde stopped her with a wag of her finger and a loud tsk, tsk, tsk.

“Not so fast! (Not that you can go as fast as you used to.) I suggest you pay me that sixty dollars you owe me first. You don’t want to see what happens when you try to steal from here.”

As her belt tightened further and she felt her thighs beginning to press together. The customer tore through her purse, pulled out her credit and began tapping on the card reader over and over again. With each failed attempt, the pounds piled on until….

“Oh, sorry. I’ll have to swipe that for you. We haven’t gotten around to updating our card reader.”

Mathilde picked the card out of the customer’s trembling hand, took her time, and then delicately swiped it through. After a final beep, and with a great big grin, Mathilde handed the card back.

“Thank you. Have a nice day.”

The customer let out a shrill shriek and, left with a pile of now useless clothes in her arms and pressed against her flesh to try as best as possible to hide her bloated body, waddled out the door. Mathilde could hear the laughter that accompanied her reentry into the mall as the door closed again.

“I love my job.”

As Mathilde sat back down in her chair behind the counter, the curtain to the back opened up once again as Gwendolyyn poked her head out.

“Another satisfied customer?”

“You know it.”

“Good. There should be more soon.”

Without looking back at Gwendolyyn, Mathilde leaned forward and, in a perfectly cliche fashion, tented her fingers.

“I’m looking forward to it.”