FAT FOXES OF THE FUTURE
By Sasha Steele
"Damn it," Shandra hollered, pounding her fat hands against the padded steering wheel of her X10 Super Sportster. She punched up Corbin on the cell. "My fucking car stopped." Shandra told him, her announcement reverberating in his ear.
"Did you try the auxiliary?"
Shandra punched up the auxiliary; there was just enough juice to power the door and the seat lift. Corbin looked at the GPU screen for Shandra's location. "Okay, I've got you, be there in twenty minutes," he said.
"Hurry up," Shandra ordered, "I'm bloody starving." She swore again and threw the cell phone into the seat beside her. Shandra had just picked up her brand new X10 and decided to do an out city tour on the old road system before going out for supper with Corbin, when it had suddenly powered down. She had just rounded a bend past what was once a filling station - still in use by the outsiders, but mostly as a country store now.
Shandra hit the button. The car door wound open; the seat moved back in and then turned outward; the leg rest rescinded away from her and, five-inch heels firmly planted on the ground, the chair lift engaged lifting Shandra to her feet. Shandra flipped an errant strand of waist-length kinky curled auburn hair from her stunningly beautiful pear-shaped fat face and pursed her thick succulent lips. The store was perhaps a hundred feet back along the road. A fair distance, considering Shandra's weight and the fact that she was wearing high heel shoes - not to mention that she had not walked anywhere near that distance. Not that she could remember, anyhow, with the moving sidewalks, stairs, and halls throughout the cities, but Shandra thought that she could make it all right.
It was warm, too - and, like most city women, Shandra never ventured for long outside of conditioned atmospheres. These outsiders live in the damn dark ages, Shandra thought as she checked her image in the mirrored glass of her car, the thought lost with how perfect she was. She was dressed for her own environment, for appearance and sensuality only. Her smooth sexy legs were clad in beige nylon stockings that pulled up high into her crotch, fancy sculpted elastacine tops holding them in place on her colossal 80-inch thighs.
Shandra's short, light brown earthen colored dress rode more than three feet across her wide hips and over the shelf of her huge, huge ass, barely covering the heart stopping expanse of it, protruding out behind as if she had shoved a couple of basket balls into the seat of her white silk panties. Shandra's dress pulled tight onto and part of the way back under her stomach, which was so big that she couldn't clasp her hands around it. The dress left her shoulders bare and a foot or so of cleavage, Shandra's massive watermelon like breasts resting atop her gut, upheld in a custom made white lace bra. Her bare arms, measuring almost four feet around at their thickest part, lay against her thick broad torso flaring out to the sides of her.
A little brown purse slung over her heavy shoulder, brown high heel shoes clicking on the old asphalt road, Shandra slowly waddled toward the store. Her massive boobs jiggling as if they were afloat, basketball sized butt cheeks bouncing up and down, big fat gut swaying, Shandra's hulking 900 pound body jutted side to side, legs spread wide in order to slide one massive thigh around the other creating a voop voop voop sound as she went. A few steps on she was breathing heavily and starting to sweat; the waistband of her panties was cutting into her stomach and her white lace belly support belt was chaffing against it. Her fat feet were killing her. She was hungry; she was thirsty and she had to go to the toilet.
Shandra stopped to catch her breath; maybe she should have just stayed in the car and waited for Corbin. Halfway, she decided to carry on. Arriving at the store, Shandra squeezed her hulking frame through the old style door, thinking that they all must have been skinny fucking runts back then. A concerned outsider rushed over as soon as he saw the beautiful behemoth enter his store, motivated no doubt, not only by the city laws protecting these gorgeous creatures, but mostly by virtue of Shandra's alluring beauty.
The shopkeeper helped Shandra into his air-conditioned parlor and led her to the sofa. Shandra plunked herself down, the sofa groaning under her weight, her massive backside covering the better part of it. "May I offer you something to drink?" the shopkeeper asked.
"Yes," Shandra said between gulps of air, her chest heaving with every labored breath, "chocolate milk." Then, her mouth watering added, "and bring me something to eat as well. Those cinnamon buns in your store look good; bring me the whole tray." The shopkeeper summoned his wife to assist their special visitor. She came, as did her two young teenage daughters - both of them budding beauties weighing over two hundred pounds apiece and both of them fascinated by Shandra's sexy colossal sized body, a body that either girl would die for.
Shandra lay back with her eyes closed, allowing the shopkeeper's wife to pat her sweat beaded forehead with a cold cloth as she waited for her chocolate milk and cinnamon buns to be brought to her. The woman had worked in service in the city before and knew exactly what to do. She unscrewed the cap on the two-quart jug and inserted a straw holding it up for Shandra to take a drink. "Uncover the buns," she instructed one daughter, who did so, and then, following as her mother motioned her to do, she held a large cinnamon bun to Shandra's lips so that she could bite into it. Handing the chocolate milk over to her other daughter, the shopkeeper's wife stepped back to watch as the girls attended to the gigantic woman who covered most of her sofa.
Feeding Shandra, listening as she hummed her approval, the girls looked at one another, reading each other's mind. They would need to double or even triple their eating if they were to reach anywhere near the size of the huge beauty sitting before them. They were envious of Shandra, the way she carried her enormous weight, her designer clothes, her pampered life style, all the food that she could eat, and the really good looking guys, who were always falling over backwards for women this size.
Shandra had just finished eating the whole dozen buns and finished the two-quart jug of chocolate milk when Corbin arrived. "It's about time," she said, and then grunted, leaning forward, struggling to stand as Corbin and the shopkeeper helped to pull her up from the sofa.
"None the worse for wear," he said, kissing his gargantuan girlfriend. "Do you want me to take you home - or straight out for supper?"
Shandra smiled. "Right to the restaurant," she said rubbing her massive belly, "I'm fucking starving."