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Old 07-17-2008, 10:59 PM   #1
Join Date: Oct 2005
Posts: 4,349
Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!
Default AR19: Excursion from Chaos - by Matt L. (~BBW, Magic, ~MWG )

~BBW, Magic, ~MWG – Rebecca is successful as a professional, but at a cost, until she sought refuge in Leah's shop...

An Alternate Reality Story

AR19: Excursion from Chaos
by Matt L.
(For the previous installment of this series please click here)

This story is the property of Matt L. and is reposted with his permission. His e-mail address is writer59@aol.com, he'd like your comments sent to him.

[Editor's Note: This story is unique in that it has as an ending two widely different epilogues.
They will each be given their own thread.]


Leah was behind the counter, sipping her usual noontime tea as the young lady entered her shop. There was a certain air about this young woman, not the typical variety of customer that frequented the shop. For one thing, she had perfect posture and strolled around the various articles on sale like a debutante at an elegant ball.

She seemed impressed with the jewelry behind the glass case, glancing over the trinkets at her leisure. Pearl earrings and a silver chain garnished her being; thus she had knowledge in such ornaments. Leah tapped her chin, sizing up the feminine customer; wavy brownish-blond hair that rolled over her shoulders, revealing the chiseled bone structure of her alluring face.

Her curvaceous figure in a red and black striped shirt and top of the line black slacks. Amply endowed, trim waist, lean thighs, roughly 125-pounds if not a little better? Casually attired, but not practical to her profession. She wasn’t a blue-collar damsel, not by a long shot.

She took her time inspecting a few books and manuscripts that Leah had available. Her obvious comprehension of the tomes evidenced a better than average, probably prestigious education, perchance an Ivy League college in the east? Leah studied her, contemplated her body language, how she delicately moved, the strength of her eyes, the confidence in her walk. A passing glance snagged the verdict of who was browsing through Leah’s shop.

Leah crookedly smiled, “Rebecca Sterling, what do I owe this honor?”

Rebecca’s hand lightly brushed across the row of apparel, “You know me?”

Leah acknowledged Rebecca with an articulate nod; “I do watch Court TV.”

In brief, Rebecca Sterling was a renowned attorney whose career in law was on the fast track, as well as a fledging leader of the woman’s rights movement.

Leah’s fingers circled the top of her cup, “You won the Hampton VS Hampton case for Arial Hampton, though most critics felt she was a gold digger and not entitled to a penny of the estate. Likewise, you managed to set Catherine Connors free, even though it was considered murder, not a crime of passion.”

Rebecca smugly replied, “Thanks for the history lesson. To be honest, I only slipped in here to escape the cameras. They’ve been hounding me night and day, every since I agreed to represent Brandi Tatum Myttle.”

Leah was up to speed on that future trial, “Ah yes, let me see if I got this right? Vegas showgirl meets wealthy businessman, they hit if off, then conspire to off the Mrs.?”

Rebecca stood on her tiptoes to get a better view out of the shop’s picturesque window, then faced Leah, “Yeah, something like that.”

Leah’s lips curled, “Not one to commiserate with your public?”

Rebecca adjusted her trendy blouse, “It’s crazy. If it isn’t the reporters bugging me, it’s my fans and wannabe’s. The trial starts next week, and all I wanted was a little time to myself before the case starts.”

Leah acknowledged Rebecca with a smile; “You’re on vacation.”

Rebecca folded her arms over her bust, “That was my intention. I need a break, you know? Besides my legal career, I also do work for the A.O.F. Organization”

Leah lifted her eyebrows, “What organization is this that I’m so ignorant I’ve never heard before?”

Rebecca remarked with a stale expression, “It stands for ‘Advancement Of Females.’ It’s a grass root movement centered mainly in the Los Angeles area but we’re just about ready to go nation wide. Our foundation enables underprivileged females to find work as well as education in a male dominated society where they won’t fear harassment or prejudice.”

Leah’s elongated fingernails made a clanging sound as she tapped her teacup, “What do you know about the underprivileged? Correct my error in regards to your station in life, but aren’t you from a well to do family settled in New York City, when not entertaining at their Cape Cod summer home? Further more, didn’t you attend private schools your entire life, studied at Princeton as well as Harvard?”

Rebecca sneered, “Lady, you’ve done your homework.”

Leah enjoyed a modest sip of tea, then resumed, “Most of your clients are exceedingly wealthy, the handful that aren’t give you publicity. All have one thing in common. They’re all guilty or at the very least, far from innocent. You handle the jury with poise and sharpness. Sway verdicts with your charm and intelligence. Much like your male companions. Mostly wealthy men who are dazzled by your appearance, but you used them for your personnel gains. Notably to build your career and to secure your power and personnel wealth.”

Rebecca sighed, “You have a point?”

Leah tilted her head; “You’re an arrogant, self-centered young lady who doesn’t really care about people or justice.”

Rebecca was sincerely agitated; “I’m a professional in spite of what you may think of me. As for the men I acquaint myself with A. it’s an even trade. I look good on their arm; they open doors for me. And B. it’s none of your business.”

Leah chuckled, “Open doors for you? I would think a founding member of A.O.F. would open her own doors. I sense you think the male members of our society are Neanderthals that our gender needs to be protected from. The exception being those who can enhance your career. My husband Boris is a decent man, not quite a saint, but comparable to Gary Cooper if you know what I mean?”

Rebecca unexpectedly enquired, “Gary Cooper?”

Leah rolled her eyes; “You’ve studied at Harvard and don’t know who Gary Cooper is? Sergeant York? The Plainsman? Never mind. What I mean is, there are plenty of men, decent men like my Boris who are right gentlemen, some who labor hard in the pursuit of equality for females in the work place. Men who are considerate and loyal, gentle and kind. The type who would open the door for you for the right reason.”

Rebecca slowly backed away from the counter, “Thanks for the lecture.”

“Leaving so soon? Why we haven’t even discussed your appearance yet?”

Rebecca froze in her tracks, placing her hands over her hips, she elevated her chin, “What about my appearance?”

Leah walked around the counter and approached Rebecca with an all consuming smile; “Your appearance is your strength.”

Curiosity vexed the prim legal eagle, “Really?”

Rebecca took a step closer to Leah; “I eat right, exercise, the whole nine yards. But you’ll forgive me if I disagree. Sure I’m attractive. But it’s my intelligence that has built my career.”

Leah circled Rebecca; “You actually believe your intelligence matters? Far from it. Those doors that were opened for you, were open based on your looks.”

Rebecca whirled her hips to keep eye contact with Leah, “That’s hardly true.”

Leah scrunched her eyebrows, “If you were a smudge heavier, who’d take you seriously? Not those men you associate with. Materialistic and hollow, you couldn’t dazzle them, thus they wouldn’t open those doors for you.”

Leah paused in her tracks; “You’d still be in New York, working in small claims court, wearing your office butt like a badge of honor.”

Rebecca planted her hands on her hips, “I’ve worked very hard, my appearance has nothing to with my success.”

Leah’s eyes sparkled as her lips parted into a mocking grin, “Pity, a smart girl like you should be more realistic. Intelligence isn’t what they favor; it’s how you fill out a dress.”

Leah cleared her throat, “But you’re aware of that. You’re assertive, yes. Though skillful with your womanly charms, a vixen when it comes to flirting, you flaunt your body well enough to manipulate even the most cunning man.”

Rebecca crinkled her nose, her expression ripe with contempt, “Hey; it’s me against them. It’s a male dominated society, if I decide to dress provocatively to get noticed, to advance my career, all I’m doing is taking advantage of their hormones.”

Leah’s fingers ran diagonally over a rack of garments, “Becky, you do have a nice figure, I can understand why you’d want to show it off.”

Rebecca nodded, “Yes, thank you, but I prefer to be called Rebecca. More professional sounding.”

Leah concurred; “I see your point. Becky Sterling doesn’t cotton well with your lifestyle.”

Rebecca duly noted, “If I fetched coffee at some diner or was a milkmaid, sure.”

Leah hands breezed through the clothes, “Then you agree, Becky’s a more casual, less pretentious name?”

Rebecca joined Leah over by the clothing rack; “You’re trying to tell me something?”

Lifting her eyebrows, Leah shrewdly told her, “If you prefer not to be bothered on your vacation, then slip into a world where you’re simply Becky.”

Noticing the baffled expression haunting Rebecca’s exquisite face, Leah elucidated in detail, “Becky Sterling wouldn’t be inconvenienced by reporters or her fans, would go unnoticed, blend in with the crowd. There would be no need for you as Becky to exhibit your intellect or clothe yourself in trendy garments.”

A perceptive glare emanated from Leah’s eyes, “Without your ostentatious standard of living, your vanity would fade away, and there would be no pressure for you to diet.”

Rebecca nervously whirled a strand of hair around her finger, “Tell me about it. I’d be as big as a house if I didn’t count calories.”

Leah glimpsed over Rebecca’s hourglass figure, “That strict diet you’re following keeps you away from the chocolates and cheeseburgers you crave. Still you’re not without your insecurities.”

Rebecca let loose the strand of hair; her body became restless, “No, not really. I’m in the best shape ever.”

Leah reached out and took Rebecca’s left hand; “You’re self - conscious about your tummy, which is why you’re wearing a tummy control undergarment to contain the little pouch that makes you feel uncomfortable. You even have considered getting a tummy tuck. Ah, you might have dropped the pounds you put on while in college but, your belly has never retained it’s smooth surface.”

Rebecca withdrew her hand, “Hey! How did you know that?”

Leah’s smile sparkled, “Ms. Sterling, I’m privy to more than just your puffy belly. I’m aware you’ve been on a strict diet for a couple of years now. Around your twenty-second birthday when you noticed your slowing metabolism and how the pounds crept on with ease. You exercise, but not as often as you like. Once in a while, you do cheap on your diet. You curl up in bed with a gallon of ice cream or go to the extreme with take out from a fast food restaurant. Secretly you wish you could do this more often, matter of fact if you didn’t have such a high profile career you know you could. But then...........”

Rebecca finished Leah’s sentence, “There’s be no one to open doors for me.”

Leah nodded in agreement, then sighed, “Of course you’re aware of that. You’re own social prejudice speaks volumes.”

Rebecca’s brow wrinkled, her voice soften, “Well, most men don’t find fat woman appealing, why would I want to get fat?”

Leah swung head, “Pardon me, but you’ve been rude on several occasions towards plus size females, going as far back as high school. You consider them frumpy and unsophisticated. You fear being thought of in the same regards.”

Leah smiled with her eyes as well as her lips, Rebecca’s dumbfound expression was priceless.

Last edited by Observer; 07-17-2008 at 11:58 PM.
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Old 07-17-2008, 11:12 PM   #2
Join Date: Oct 2005
Posts: 4,349
Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!Observer has a ton of rep. Literally. As in over 2000!


Leah turned and faced the clothes rack, busily searching through the garments, “Let’s find something nice for Becky to wear.”

Rebecca’s shoulder brushed along side of Leah, “Excuse me? I thought you were speaking in metaphors? I couldn’t possibly walk outside wearing any of these clothes; I’d be embarrassed and laughed at.”

Leah looked over her vintage bifocals, “Who said anything about leaving the shop?”

Rebecca bounced away from Leah, “Now you're scaring me.”

Leah flinched her head sideways, muttering something in Russian. Rebecca flipped back her wavy mane, “Mind sharing your thoughts with me?”

Leah paused from her search long enough to reply, “Just a an old Russian adage that doesn’t translate very well into English.”

Leah continued rummaging through the clothes, “Roughly, don’t expect a tree to stand as tall in another forest.”

Rebecca displayed her sharp wit; “You’re trying to say I’m not as strong or as tough out of my element.”

Leah twisted her head towards Rebecca, “Precisely.”

“Refusing to put on some frumpy, secondhand dress for your amusement doesn’t take strength, it’s common sense.”

Leah grinned as she pulled off the rack a rather large dress; “This will suit you just fine.” The old fashion variety of gown was made of cotton and was designed in two sections. The top part was white with short ruffle sleeves and crew neck collar, connecting the second part was a pair of brightly color yellow straps that exactly matched the long skirt.

“That’s more of a tent than a dress!”, Rebecca laughed as Leah brought the garment to her.

Leah held the dress up to Rebecca’s body for size; “You’ll look nothing out of the ordinary in this.”

Rebecca rolled her shoulders, keenly inspecting the dress, “Hmmm, cotton, approximately early to mid 1950’s.”

Leah was quite taken by Rebecca’s observation; “I’m rightly impressed, well done Becky.”

Rebecca reclaimed her Gucci Girl posture, smiling with her response; “Fashion and dress design was my minor in college.”

Leah handed Rebecca the gown, “While on vacation you’ll possess no knowledge of your academic career, what you’ve learned in high school will suffice.”

Rebecca rolled the gown over her arm, “You’re not making a whole lot of sense and honestly, you’re starting to scare me again.”

Always one for the dramatics, Leah vigorously walked over to the curtain that divided the antique shop from her backroom.

Firmly griping the curtain, Leah announced with sweeping bravo, “Your vacation awaits!”

Rebecca softly repeated, “My vacation awaits?”

Leah happily explained, “You’ll have no break while you’re Rebecca Sterling, you’ll be continually bothered. However, assuming the identity of Becky Sterling without all the extravagance that comes with your fame, you’ll be an ordinary young lady. You’ll be able to come and go as you please, need not excel with your brilliance and eat anything you desire.”

Rebecca wasn’t quite sure what to make of all this, thus squinted at Leah, “As tempting as it sounds and it is very tempting to take a break from my prestigious lifestyle and be just a simple kind of girl for a while. I’m not too keen on entering that room.”

Leah sensed Rebecca’s fear; “I understand and well put. I shouldn’t have expected you to take leave of your wits and just enter some eccentric lady’s backroom.”

Rebecca half smiled, though as she was about to comment, Leah reached down and patted the ornate bracelet on her wrist.

A momentary lapse of time separated Rebecca from her reply, “I’m delighted you understand how............I feel...........what happen? Did I black out?”

Leah grinned as Rebecca discovered she was no longer in her trendy garments, but in the frumpy old fashion gown. A tad disoriented, Rebecca examined the gown that was several sizes too large for her slender body.

“What happen to my clothes? The clothes I was wearing?”

Leah held back her giggle; “Becky and you would have different taste in clothes. See how easily that was done?”

Leah spoke as she strolled over to Rebecca, “I can just as easily return your over priced clothes to you, or would you like to go on a real vacation?”

Rebecca was still a little dazed by the switch of garments, “Kind of, I guess?”

Scooping up the fabric that hung towards the floor, Rebecca wiped away a loose curl out of her eyes with her free hand, “I’m totally dumbfounded, I’m not crazy, or at least, I don’t think so?”

Leah calmly took Rebecca by the hand; “You’re as sound in mind as always. There are indeed philosophies and wonders beyond practical science, timeless secrets that are never spoke in public or taught even at Harvard. Worlds that lie before us, assorted dimensions and alternate realities.”

Leah slowly escorted the pretentious attorney to her backroom, “In some other reality Ariel Hampton isn’t a gold digger, but perhaps an Algebra teacher, and in another dimension Brandi Tatum Myttle isn’t a Vegas showgirl, but maybe a brainy accountant.”

Rebecca glanced at the large full-length mirror with the borders made of oak, “That must have sent you back a decent penny?”

Leah tilt her head, “Expensive yes, but it was gift given to me long ago, before I left my homeland.”

Rebecca’s eyes twinkled as she smiled; “You have wonderful taste in vanity pieces.”

Leah lightly chuckled, “You haven’t a clue.”

Clearing her throat, Leah then proceed with the details, “Usually when I invite those of whom that wish to journey through the mirror, I rarely give them a chance to travel back.”

Leah sighed with a grin, “You can’t please everybody. So I have on occasion obliged them with a second chance.”

Rebecca nodded; her eyes focused on the tall looking glass.

“I’m going to change the usual agenda with you. It’s going to be a little complicated, but as long as you don’t get greedy.”

Leah playfully squeezed Rebecca’s shoulders, “And you won’t get greedy. You’ll be alright.”

Rebecca turned to Leah and blinked, “I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you?”

Leah’s fingers softly massaged Rebecca’s upper arm, “After a brief span of time, 48 hours, you’ll be able to return back to this present reality by simply looking into any mirror as long as you arr alone and concentrate on your natural settings.
Wealthy lawyer, living in Beverly Hills, that type of thing.”

Rebecca shook her head, “I understand, completely.”

Leah sighed, a serious depth to her voice, “No, you don’t understand. I’m happy to be of service, but do not take advantage of the wonder you are to experience. You’re intensely ambitious and creating another milieu for yourself indistinguishable of the one from which you came out of for greed or for power will be corrected in the reverse.”

The wide eyed Rebecca simply uttered, “Okay.”

Leah gradually backed away, “I do sincerely wish you an refreshing break from this reality, but I needed to warn you.”

Standing a far enough distance away, Leah instructed Rebecca, “Close your eyes, think, dream, imagine a reality where you’re merely Becky. No long hours in the court room, no fame or college degree. Visualize yourself as Becky, in a different world at a different time, where you don’t have to diet and you rank among the ordinary.”

Rebecca closed her eyes and exhaled, her mind consumed with her attire and a less than pretentious lifestyle to match. A cold chill zapped through her body followed by a numbing sensation, the room seemed to spin.............

Becky opened her eyes to a room full of noisy chatter. Though still suffering from a mild case of light headiness, Becky was aware that she sitting in a busy 1950’s era style beauty shop. Narrower than wide, the walls covered with mirrors and the floors covered in black and white checkered tile.

An old fashion metal fan buzzed from a lengthy shelf on the wall along side of a number of hair products, including Wildroot Hair Cream and a once famous shaving product she’d heard of called Burma Shave. . Taking up the spaces on the wall where no mirrors were present was vintage Norman Rockwell prints and an ornate clock made in the shape of a hare facing a tortoise.

Becky observed the cluster of females, maybe nine in all, cheerful in their banter while either getting their hair done or in the process of their duties. The topics of conversations varied, from cooking to fashion to the secrets of brewing a good cup of coffee. Ranging in age from the early twenties to middle age, Becky noticed one distinct similarity all had in common. They were all chubby or heavier. Shifting her head to her side, Becky saw upon the table besides her a box of donuts and a newspaper with the headlines, Fireman saves cat from tree.

“You can’t get any more simplistic than that”, Becky thought to herself while noticing how heavy her head felt. Lifting her arms to inspect her head, she felt the cold plastic of big curlers and then noticed the size of her upper arm. Her mouth plopped opened; her eyes grew wide as she realized how husky her arm had gotten. No exactly huge, but bigger than before and without the firmness it once possessed.

Becky proceeded to lower her chin, to her shock; her breast size had enlarged from a firm 36 C to a bosomy 38 DD! Underneath her bust, roamed an inflated belly that was as big as it was round. The gown fit according now.

A cheery voice interrupted Becky’s inspection of her body, “Hello; I’m Tammy, Tammy Kwan.”

Becky looked upwards, there stood an remarkably stunning young lady whose bouncy ponytail kept the bangs away from her chubby, pretty face.

“You’re Becky, right?” She grinned. Barely 21, Tammy was of olive completion with dark brown hair and extremely wide body. Her attire consisted of a pink smock with a cartoon of a mouse holding a heart on it and underneath an ivory colored housedress with a floral design.

Becky simply nodded, though with a pleasant smile.

Tammy handed Becky a tall glass of apple juice, “Sorry I was tardy with your drink, I lost track time looking for the latest copy of Modern Housewife for Mrs. Taylor.”

Becky didn’t want to seem impolite, matter of fact she was overcome with friendliness, “It’s quite okay...Tammy.”

Becky briefly paused; her voice seemed to be lacking something? Taking a sip of apple juice, Becky proceeded to thank Tammy, it was then she noticed her voice was minus the sound of confidence and further more, was of a higher quality rendering her speech less elegant.

Tammy’s brown eye’s twinkled, “Welcome to Rockwell Valley and have another donut. They’re free, but at the price you’re paying for getting your hair done here, you might as well eat your fill.”

A gentle chuckled emerged from the front of the saloon, “That’s enough Tammy; you can visit with Becky on your own time. Right now, you might want to stock the shelves.”

Tammy loudly giggled, “Sure thing Mrs. Abernathy!”

Tammy spun her head around as she carried her plus side body towards the back, “We’ll catch up later Becky, maybe at the coffee shop? Then we can talk about guys and stuff.”

Becky turned to look towards the front of the shop and noticed a stout, middle aged woman approaching her. Miranda Abernathy was the shop’s owner. Red hair set in a mature style that splendidly captured the essence of her congenial features and attired in the very same smock that Tammy wore, over her dark green pantsuit. Somewhere in the upper 200-pounds range, Miranda’s gait was impressively delicate.

“Don’t mind Tammy”, Miranda beamed with absolute kindness, “She’s one to chatter.”

Becky looked upwards, “I don’t mind, she’s very nice.”

Not used to the monotonous droll of her voice, Becky scrunched her nose, to which Miranda remarked, “Those curlers are starting to annoy you? Don’t fret honey, judging by the clock on the wall, you’ll be out of them in 15 minutes or there about.”

Becky’s fingers tapped the curlers, “Guess I’m not really used to them?”

“Just relax, enjoy your apple juice and have another donut”, Miranda cordially told Becky.

Becky gazed at the donuts, “Another?”

Miranda laughed, “Why you’ve had two already, another won’t do you no harm.”

Becky smiled, “Yeah, I think I will have another, thanks.”

Becky plucked a chocolate donut out of the box, her inner thoughts granting permission, “While I’m here, I might as well take advantage of snacking, in 48 hours I‘ll be counting calories again.”

Becky permitted herself to indulge, not realizing that in this pseudo reality, her appetite was just as distorted as her body and voice. Becky gobbled up the donut, then reached for yet another without a second thought. This version of Ms. Sterling didn’t battle her cravings, she embraced them.

The bell over the doorway rang a jingle reminiscence of an earlier American era. Warmly greeted was a hugely pregnant young lady with two small children in tow. The innocence of her tranquil facial features put her at around twenty-three years of age. Long curly black hair, soft green eyes and cute, round face. Her 300-pound figure was completely circular in shape and attired in an effervescent navy blue with white polka dots, sleeveless sundress that magnified her girth.

“Julie, you look like you’re about to pop already!”, Miranda happily remarked.

Betsy ran her hand over her enormous belly, replying in her usual bubbly tone, “I hope not, I got two more months to go!”

Miranda cheerfully spoke to Betsy’s children as she pointed to the backroom; “You kids wanna play with Tammy? She’s in the back!”

“Why are these people so loud?”, Becky thought to herself as the children ran by her to join Tammy in back. Ms. Sterling wasn’t used to such unbridled enthusiasm.

Miranda waved Betsy on over, “We’ll be with ya shortly, why not take a seat and get acquainted with Becky.”

Julie waddled over to the chairs and teetered herself into a seat between the table and Becky. Julie helped herself to a jelly donut while congenially introducing herself, “Hello Becky; I’m Julie Macintosh, spelled just like the apple. Welcome to Rockwell Valley.”

Becky encountered some difficulty in adjusting her position to face Julie; owing to the fact she wasn’t quite used to her plus size body yet. Becky couldn’t keep from gawking at the width and roundness of Betsy’s belly,

“Yes, nice to meet you too; this is your third?”

Julie spoke as she nibbled, her voice still full of the same pleasant bubbly tone, “Not quite; the oldest is at school.”

Becky lifted her head; “You must have been a child bride?”

Julie chuckled, “Not really, got hitched right out of high school, like everyone else.”

A surprised expression badgered Becky’s face, not quite sure what to say, she smiled. Julie folded her hands over her colossal belly, enquiring with a jovial grin, “What about you, single or married? Any offspring?”

Becky calmly admitted, “Very single.”

“I know we just met, so don’t think I’m the nosy kind, but my brother in law is single and he’s a right, decent man”, Julie blissfully informed Becky. Becky wasn’t sure how to reply, good thing Miranda arrived with a big glass of milk with ice cubes for Julie.

“Julie dear, don’t go playing matchmaker”, Miranda giggled.

Handing Julie the refreshment, Miranda added, “Anyway, Mrs. Layton at the boarding house plans to introduce Becky to her nephew.”

Julie took a generous sip of the milk, then turned to Becky with an ecstatic smile, “Very nice for you; Grant is a peach and a better catch than my brother in law. My brother in law, all his qualities aside, mows lawns for a living but Grant, he works at Harper’s Department store.”

Becky held back her disgruntled expression, “Is that right?”

Julie enjoyed an extra long slug of milk, then picked up another donut, “They make about the same in cash, but having a hubby that works at Harper’s, think of all the discounts you’ll get!”

Becky eased back into her chair as Miranda went to assist a customer and Julie chimed on, “You’ll save money on fabric and household appliances and I think you’ll get something like 10 per cent off on clothing?”

Becky glanced over the patron’s then sipped her apple juice. Julie was still in progress of dishing out the benefits of having a mate that worked at a department store, when Becky needed to change the subject. Though oddly, Becky had meant to say, “Having a husband with such a lucrative career would be vastly rewarding.” ~ But those words never left her lips, uttering instead ~ “Having a guy like that would be nice.”

Becky briefly closed her eyes, was her cognitive thinking impaired due to an after effect of entering a different reality? She still felt a tad light headed. Hopefully that was the case. Julie was still bantering a mile a minute, thus Becky cordially asked, “I’m curious, what does you husband do for a living?”

Julie smiled with pride; “Ben works at the rail yard, pretty exciting huh?”

Again the words Becky meant to say were twisted. Meaning to say, “About as exciting as watching paint dry”, left Becky’s lips as, “You’re so lucky, Nice!”

As Julie continued to chirp away about her husband, life in general and having more children; Becky thought hard, actually coming up with a possible answer, “Perhaps in this simplistic reality, I’m not so tightly wound. I’m as easy going as the locals.”

Becky broke out of her trance as Julie enquired, “Are you the new librarian?” Before Becky could reply, Miranda shouted from across the room, “Does Becky really look the brainy type!”

Pausing while she brushed Mrs. Jenkins hair, Miranda politely told Becky, “No offense.”

Becky scrunched her nose and half grinned, “No offense taken.” Though in her thoughts, Becky couldn’t help to disagree, “I’m smarter than these rustic types. How many of them graduated from....?”

Becky was profoundly confused. Why couldn’t she remember the colleges she attended? Did she even go to college? Becky’s thoughts were interrupted as

Miranda continued, “Becky is working as Mrs. Layton’s assistant while rooming at the boarding house.”

Julie nibbled away as she commented, “Making beds and cleaning, that type of stuff?”

Miranda couldn’t have sounded as exuberant if she had the job herself, “That’s right, Betsy! For the time being that is. Becky you’re working what? Friday evenings and Saturday afternoons at the diner until Fern Allele weds?”

Becky was puzzled, Miranda was correct in every detail. An uncontrollable ambiance of happiness entered Becky’s mind as she cheerfully admitted, “Yes Miranda, that’s right!”

The aura of enthusiasm had woven into Becky’s behavior. Julie tapped her large, swollen belly, “Good for you! I just love doing housework!”

Miranda resumed her duties as Julie chattered away, sharing with Becky various helpful hints in cleaning. Becky did listen, just to be polite, no wonder her brain was turning into mush. Julie meant well, but to Becky, it was pointless dribble. Pretending to make a move on another donut, so Julie wouldn’t get the jest of her boredom, Becky’s eyes scanned the headlines of the local paper. The Rockwell Valley Gazette.

The newspaper was in two sections, which Becky pulled a part after she reached over. The front section was stereotypical small town news stories. A fireman pulled a cat out of a tree, someone bought a new tractor, Mrs. & Mrs. something or other got married, and the post office has new hours. The other section of the paper was the woman’s section and it was filled with articles on recipes, social affairs, fashion and beauty tips.

Becky leaned back into her chair and interrupted Julie while she was still carrying on about housework; “Your newspaper is, well kind of vague on news stories. Isn’t there like a section with, well, national or world news?”

Julie giggled, “Why, what for? Even if there was, why would you be interested in reading it?”

Becky cleared her throat, “To be informed on current events?”

Julie’s pretty face twisted into a humorous expression, “You’re funny! Women around here, our only concern is cooking, having babies and important things like that.”

Julie rolled her eyes as she polished off the ice milk, then giggled louder; “You’re a good kidder!”

Rubbing her forehead, Becky watched as Julie was waved on over to a chair.

“We’ll talk a little bit later, time for me to get gorgeous!”, Julie happily blurted.

Becky shook her head while Miranda shouted to her, “Five more minutes Becky, and then we’ll take out the curlers!”

Becky reached over, grabbed another donut, and then proceeded to leave her seat. Inexperienced with her newly acquired girth, standing up was a challenge. Becky successful rocked herself out of the chair after two attempts and once on her feet, she felt an uncanny difference. Needless to say, Becky felt heavier, her belly jiggled before settling and she noticed that her thighs felt closer together.

An empathetic look appeared on Miranda’s sweet face, “Something the matter, Becky?”

Becky nibbled on the donut, “Nah, I’m fine, just need some air.”

Becky took her first step as a plus size woman; the added weight jumbled her once delicate walk. Rebecca could glide through a room with confidence in her stride; Becky merely ambled with her own personal waddle. Walking at a slower than her usual pace, mainly because she had yet adjusted to her size, Becky reached a full-length mirror situated near the door. A tad apprehensive, due to her own prejudice concerning overweight females, Becky peered into the mirror.

The added pounds made quite the difference between Rebecca and Becky. The good bone structure and chiseled features had soften, her diamond shaped face was now thoroughly round. Still overtly cute with her chubby cheeks and rubbery double chin, Becky’s facial appearance lacked the sophistication and spitfire confidence Rebecca possessed.

Her rotund figure easily filled out the dress from Leah’s antique shop. Though her arms and bust had increased in size, she carried most of her weight in her belly, butt and thighs. A single spare tire circled her thick waist and her excessively broad hips were coated with a cushy layer of fat. Swinging sideways, Becky noticed the conspicuous curvature of her humongous posterior, parallel in size of her enormous belly and her redundantly husky thighs included plump saddlebags.

Becky’s fingers sunk into the soft texture of belly, surmising her weight to be in the vicinity of 250-pounds. Becky bit off a large chunk of donut as she noticed a few other changes as well. Her expensive pearl earrings were replaced with the plastic variety and loop shape while her silver necklace was altogether missing.

Becky lifted her eyes, sarcastically mumbling as she gazed upon the ridiculously large curlers that pulled the hair away from her face, exaggerating the chubbiness of her features. . Licking her fingers before finishing the donut, Becky strolled outside and received her first look of Rockwell Valley.

There was barely any traffic at all; thus Becky waddled off the curb to get a better glance of Main Street. Wrinkles formed over her brow, Main Street stretched on for miles until it seemingly vanished into the horizon. Taking a step back unto the curb, Becky observed the shops abound. There was a grocery store, a bridal shop and right next door a coffee shop. Across the street was the department store and hardware store and post office. Easing her indisputable well nourished body into the opposite direction, Becky became privy to a book shop, casual appearing family diner and right next door, an old fashion style movie theater. The Marquee read, JOHN WAYNE / WARD BOND IN HONDO.

Becky placed her hands over her abundantly wide hips; “I must be in the 1950’s?”

Becky stood outside a while longer, noting a few other peculiarities. All the cars were vintage models, perhaps the newest one she witness was from the late 70’s.

“There goes my 1950’s theory”, she mumbled. Another novelty of Rockwell Valley was that ever resident who walked by Becky either acknowledged her with a wave or a brief hello. Needless to say, all seemed contented and happy and reeking with enthusiasm. The various male citizens she encountered ranged in all sizes while the females ranged from exceptionally plump to modestly chubby to genuinely fat. Becky did not spot one slim or vaguely slender female citizen.

There was a mother with her daughter waddling over to the grocery store, a pair of high school girls anxious to buy their prom gowns, a young mother pushing a stroller while telling her friend about the pies she’s making for the VFW picnic. All plus size, all remarkably comfortable with their weight. Becky shrugged her shoulders as she backed into the beauty saloon. Slowly twisting her body around to face Miranda and the patrons, she examined their bodies then glimpse at her reflection in the mirror.

“No argument, I certainly fit in”, Becky silently announced. Sinking back into her chair as Miranda assured her that she was next, Becky sipped her apple juice and decided to just relax and enjoy her vacation. No newspaper reporters, no fans, no wannabe’s and especially no materialistic males more interested in her appearance than her intellect. She could unwind, eat whatever she desired and not have to worry about her appearance. She didn’t even have to be smart.

“Mind if I have one more donut?”, Becky chuckled.

“Please do!”, Miranda bellowed, “That’s what they’re there for!”

Becky nibbled another chocolate donut, her free hand inspecting the texture of her spongy belly. Becky meowed a loud yummy sound as she devoured the donut, her free hand circling her enormous belly.

Becky slipped away from the cheerful banter and reflected to herself “I’d be so embarrassed if I got this fat in my normal reality, how would I get by? My career would be in ruins; wealthy guys would ignore me. Just to think, I used to socially ignore heavy females myself. View them with distain; consider them inept at self-control and frumpy.”

Becky half-grinned as the tip of her fingers disappeared into the squishy fat of her belly, as she continued to ponder, “I used to be so self-conscious about my tummy. Fearful of getting fat. Oddly I’m starting to think my vanity was such an awful waste.”

Squeezing her pudgy love handle that plunged over her hip, Becky smiled, “I can get used to this.”

Julie wobbled towards Becky, her hands carrying her swollen belly, “Miranda went to fetch my kids, but asked me to tell you, you’re next.”

Becky shook her head, her eyes glued to Julie’s hairstyle. Julie’s hair was trimmed to the shape of her face, set in a Dutch Boy hairstyle with a navy blue ribbon attached. “What ya think?”,

Julie beamed with a wide smile that stretched her spongy double chin. Becky rubbed the side of her face, “Looks nice, very nice.”

Actually Becky thought Julie’s hairstyle made her look chubbier and domestic. Of course Becky wouldn’t tell Julie that. Julie exhaled as Miranda escorted her kids back into the room, then smiled at Becky, “I’d be honored if you’d stop by and visit me, maybe for dinner?”

Becky knew she wouldn’t be in Rockwell Valley long enough, but accepted the invitation, “Sure I will, love to!”

As Julie managed through the shop, she good intentionally boasted, “Wait until you try my apple pie, it’s delicious!”

A few minutes later, the curlers were removed and Becky finally received a look at her hair. While Rebecca’s wavy mane was long with streaks of blond highlighting her natural brown hue, Becky’s hair barely reached her collar, was moderately curly and radiated a bright shade of blond.

“I look like an air head”, Becky softly stated.

To Becky’s bewilderment, Miranda took that as a compliment, “Sweet of you to notice, thank you kindly.”

Tammy peered over from the shelves where she was stocking shampoo, “Hey Becky, you look super duper cute!”

Miranda eased her full size duff against the counter, “I declare, if Grant Layton doesn’t snatch you up real quick, you’ll have a line of boys waiting to court you!”

Becky scratched her huge belly, meaning to ridicule Miranda’s remark with sarcasm, though her willingness to do so was sidetracked. Instead, Becky uncontrollably tilt her head and blushed, “Aw shucks, I ain’t no Miss America.”

A puzzled expression did break through as Becky pondered, “Did I really say ain’t?”

Miranda gently ran her fingers through Becky’s shimmering blond hair, “You’re rightly pretty Becky, a genuine prize that any man be lucky to have.”

Tammy advanced towards Becky, “It’s almost time for me to clean up and go home, if you’d like, I’d pleased to walk you over to the boarding house?”

Becky didn’t need to think twice, she had enough of the beauty salon and could use a break from this nice, but bland environment.

“I’d like that Tammy, thanks”, Becky told her, having little idea how to find the boarding house.

Tammy waddled over to the closet and grabbed a broom, politely asking Miranda, “You want me to wash out the sinks?”

Miranda looked over at the sinks and happily buzzed, “Nah baby, you go right on a head and enjoy your stroll over to the boarding house with Becky, I can wash the sinks myself.”

Becky paused from adjusting her dress, “Tammy, you don’t own a car?”

Miranda and Tammy broke out in laughter! Tammy held the broom close to her body, the sound of her laugher increasingly louder, “You’re silly! Girls don’t drive!”

Last edited by Observer; 07-17-2008 at 11:32 PM.
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Old 07-17-2008, 11:14 PM   #3
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Becky with Tammy left the shop and made their journey towards the boarding house. Leaving her smock back at the beauty saloon, Tammy’s figure was no longer obscured, thus Becky received a better view of her new friend. Buxom and wide at the hips, several rolls circling her thick waist, large bubble butt and chunky thighs.

On their trek, Tammy was gleefully bringing Becky up speed on the VFW picnic, when a pair of high school lads on their bikes greeted them with their unproved skills in light flirtation.

“Hi ya Tammy! Who’s your friend? She’s babe-u-liciously cute!”, the taller boy yelled out.

The shorter lad brought his bike up then down the curb, “Want some company?”

Tammy paused, then spun around, no malice in her voice, just a playful ring, “See us when you’re out of high school! If we’re still available!”

The taller boy laughed, “You’re practically old maids now! Give us a break, don’t ya want some romance?”

Tammy placed her hands over her extensively broad hips, “Billy Caruthers! Be polite or else I’m gonna have to tell your daddy.”

Billy slowed down his bike, “Sorry Tammy, I didn’t mean no harm, I was just ribbing you.”

Tammy cleared her throat, then presented the boys with a wide grin, “I know, except my friend is new around here, she might get the wrong idea and think our teenagers are brought up without manners.”

The lads duly apologized and after a brief introduction by Tammy, the lads proceeded to ride away.

Tammy smiled with pride; “They’re rather nice young fella’s once you get to know them. Billy, his daddy owns the diner, so you’ll probably see him quite often and the other one, Ricky Crabtree, his daddy teaches science and math at the high school.”

Becky giggled; “Does everyone know everyone around here?”

Tammy’s response wasn’t much of a shock, “Yeah, we sure do. You gotta watch out for Mrs. Macdonald though, she’s the biggest busybody there is.”

Becky prolonged her curiosity, “And does everyone have last names via the Andy Griffith Show?”

Tammy chuckled so loud, her belly jiggled, “That’s my favorite show! That and Green Acres, but I admit a particular fondness for the Andy Griffith show.”

Becky still wasn’t accustomed to her girth; the additional hundred and twenty-five pounds not only diminished her speed, but wore her out.

Becky uncharacteristically whined, “How much further?”

Tammy wasn’t the least bit drained from their walk, “Just a short distance, another mile and a half.”

Becky exhaled; “I need a break, mind if we take a breather?”

Tammy pointed over to a bench outside the gas station, “Why not? I’ll fetch us a couple of soft drinks too!”

Becky shook her head, then noticed a big red brick building across the street, “What’s that?”

Tammy happily told Becky, “That’s the library.”

“Could we per chance, check it out?”, Becky asked.

Tammy waddled ahead of her new friend, “Sure; we can grab cola’s after.”

Midway through the vacant street, Tammy needed to ask, “You said, per chance, is that like slang or French or something?”

Becky was about to give Tammy a definition but oddly, it slipped away, “Actually, I haven’t a clue?”

The overall appearance of the library was generic, with exception to not having computers available. The librarian, a heavyset, middle aged woman with short auburn hair and glasses, immediately greeted Tammy. Unsurprisingly, she was dressed in a frumpy housedress, orange in color with white ruffles around the collar and sleeves.

Tammy and the librarian briefly spoke, after which introductions were made. “Becky, this is Mrs. Arden, our librarian. Mrs. Arden, meet Rockwell Valley’s newest citizen, Becky Miller.”

Becky’s mouth dropped, assessing in her mind; “Did Tammy just call me Becky Miller?”

However, Becky’s contemplation was interrupted by Mrs. Arden who nonchalantly informed the pair, “I heard all about Becky this morning from Mrs. Macdonald.”

Tammy half grinned into Becky’s direction, “See, I told ya.”

Mrs. Arden courteously questioned Tammy concerning her choice of reading material, thus Tammy chirped, “Nothing special ma’am, Becky just wanted a look see.”

“Ah”, Mrs. Arden smiled, “Please take your time, and look around at your leisure, we’re open until seven tonight.”

Becky softly replied, “Thank you, Mrs. Arden.”

Mrs. Arden took her leave, settling behind her big desk, though informing Becky, “We have a juicy collection of Emily Dickerson if that pleases you?”

Becky stepped away from Tammy, scratching the spongy flab that coated her hip, “I was wondering if you might have anything topical, like on current events?”

Mrs. Arden lifted her eyes and beamed, “Matter of fact the new volume of Bon Appetite! arrived this morning.”

Becky’s voice resembled nails on a calk board, “That wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Mrs. Arden inquired further, “Did you have in mind something about fashion or perhaps you prefer romance novels?”

Becky cleared her throat, “Not really.”

Mrs. Arden caught Becky peering over to the other side of the library; “You’ll have no interest in anything over there, that’s the men’s section.”

Becky bit her lip, “Couldn’t I just take a peak?”

Mrs. Arden sternly prohibited Becky’s request, “Afraid I can’t let you do that. Women are strictly forbidden.”

Becky’s mouth dropped, “Are you aware of what year this is?”

Mrs. Arden looked over her glasses, “I happen to be fully aware of what year this is.”

Just as Mrs. Arden’s temper rose, it subsided, “Becky, I didn’t mean to be rude. The other side of the library has nothing of value to you. It’s cluttered with history and science books, biography’s, and sports magazines, philosophical as well as psychological manuscripts. A few automotive and farm manuals too.”

Becky felt less defiant as Mrs. Arden summed up Becky’s newly acquired interest, “A nice girl like you, I’m sure you’d rather pick up a copy of American Kitchen or Hemming Made Easy.”

Becky turned to Tammy, who shrugged her shoulders, “Something wrong?” For reasons unclear to her, Becky felt embarrassed for wanting to check out the male section of the library and confused because the books Mrs. Arden suggested seemed to interest her.

Becky swayed towards Mrs. Arden, her nose crinkling as she admitted, “Ma’am, I had no real intention of......you know? Going over to the men’s section. Things like history and science, would really just bore me........”

Becky nervously giggled, “No hard feelings?”

Once Mrs. Arden confirmed there was no hard feelings, Becky politely asked to fill out a library card next time she dropped by adding, “I might take a look at some of your books about social etiquette?”

Resuming their journeying to the bordering house, Tammy good-naturedly inquired, “Did you really want to take a look at the men’s section at the library?”

Becky puffed up her cheeks, then exhaled, “Yeah, at first. It’s funny, and I mean as in peculiar not ha ha, but as I became annoyed with being restricted due to my gender, it occurred to me, that I was out of my element. Much like my natural behavior superseded my rational logic.”

Tammy laughed, “Wow! You’re so different from everyone else!”

Becky twisted her head towards Tammy, “I’m afraid I’m not that different anymore. My desires in knowledge are now flatly attuned to cooking and baking and......”

Tammy curiously interrupted, “Funny doesn’t always mean, like a joke?” Becky glanced over Tammy, concluding to herself, “You poor naive bumpkin” then managed to explain, “Yes, Tammy. Funny doesn’t always mean something humorous, it could mean, strange, odd.....”

Becky froze in her spot, unable to continue.

Tammy reached over, firmly rubbing Becky’s upper arm, “You okay?”

Becky snapped out of it, giggling as they ventured on to the boarding house, “I guess I blacked out.”

Tammy playfully patted Becky’s enormous belly, “I’d say you’re probably hungry?”

The thought of eating unraveled Becky’s appetite, “Actually, yeah. I’m very hungry.”

Tammy laughed; “We’ll be reaching the boarding house just in time for supper. Mrs. Layton really knows how to set a table too. Wait until you try her spare ribs and cabbage, delicious!”

Becky’s gait picked up speed, “Is that what she’s serving today?”

Tammy replied, “I don’t rightly know, but I can promise you this much, whatever she makes, it’s good!”

Becky’s eyes sparkled, a wide smile upon her face, “Nice!”

Tammy teasingly purred, "Perhaps Grant might be over?"

Becky crinkled her nose, "Yeah?"

Tammy giggled, "You know, if I wasn’t technically engaged to Lenny Montgomery, I’d make sure Grant knew I was available!"

Becky politely asked to be brought up to speed on Tammy’s relation with Lenny.

Tammy was happy to oblige, "Lenny and I have been together since high school. He’s the brightest boy in five counties, won first prize two years in a row at the state fair. He’s planning to buy a quarter of his daddy’s property and then we’ll wed!"

"So he’s a farmer?", Becky asked, her tummy growling.

Tammy concurred, "Yeah, I always wanted to be a farmer’s wife!"

Becky congratulated Tammy, "I’m glad your ambition has reached fruition."

A big smiled blossomed over Tammy’s face; "You sure know big words. I declare, half the time I’m not too sure what the heck you’re talking about! I don’t really mind none; you’re like cute that way."

Becky nodded as she spotted a big house on top of a hill, "Is that the boarding house?"

Tammy nodded her head, "That’s it all right!"

Walking ever more briskly, Tammy brought it upon herself to tell Becky about Grant, "Grant might find your talking funny, he has a good sense of humor. I guess that’s why he does a fine job at Harper’s department store. He’s that kind of a man, you know?"

Tammy continued, telling Becky everything there was to know about Grant Layton, although Becky was more concerned with getting to the boarding house and taming her ravenous appetite. The boarding house was gray in color, had a wrap around porch with a swing and stretched four stories high. Besides it was a quaint vegetable garden and a little further down, a clothesline and shed. As they pair ambled up the stairs, the screen door opened and Mrs. Layton greeted the pair.

Mrs. Layton was a round, kindly looking woman somewhere in her upper sixties. Her gray hair in a bun, wire frame glasses and wearing a white apron over her lavender colored housedress.

"Say Becky, that’s some nice hairdo, you look cuter than any girl has the right!", Mrs. Layton grinned.

Uncontrollably, Becky blushed, "Thank you, Mrs. Layton."

Mrs. Layton held the door open for the girls; "I took the liberty to hang your clothes, Becky. Your room is on the second floor next to the bathroom."

The living room was spacious, antique furniture, hardwood floor with a few throw rugs and a vintage television set from the early 1960’s.

"Mind if I stay for supper, Mrs. Layton?", Tammy politely asked.

"Why of course, you’re just in time. First call your momma so she won’t worry none.", Mrs. Layton replied.

Tammy wandered into the next room to use the phone, while Mrs. Layton escorted Becky into the kitchen, "Hope you don’t mind, but our boarders are served in the dining room, we have our meals here."

Becky rested her hands over the back of a chair, "I understand, Mrs. Layton."

Once being instructed to wash up before supper, Becky made use of the downstairs facilities. While washing, Becky studied her facial features more closely. She brought her face within inches of the mirror, turned her face sidewise, then lifted her chin. Becky became captivated by her new appearance.

Her swollen cheeks, spongy double chin, even the tip of her nose seemed fuller. Her short, bright blond mane added an aura of contentment, and just curly enough to give it a little zest. The shorter hairstyle effectively displayed the circular shape of her face, while enhancing the chubbiness of her features.

This wasn’t a brainy legal eagle with pretentious ambition starring back at her, but a cute, uncomplicated small town girl whose nature required her to domestic and unassuming.

Dimples appeared in her plump cheeks as she smiled, "I declare, I’m prettier than I thought I’d be as a hefty chick."

Closing her eyes, Becky’s head plopped downwards, "But looking like this wouldn’t work in Beverly Hills."

Tammy peeped through the door, "Becky, you okay?"

Becky steered her attention to Tammy, biting her lip, "Yeah, just a might hungry, that’s all."

"Well, supper is on the table. Go on a head, I’ll join ya after I wish my hands."

The kitchen table seemed set for a banquet. Roast beef and gravy, mashed potatoes and peas with carrots. Biscuits with butter and a pitcher of milk. Pleasantly surprised by the sheer volume of food, Becky giggled.

Mrs. Layton blissfully waved Becky over to her seat, "Don’t be so bashful, Becky. Sit down and eat your full. We’re all like family in Rockwell Valley, so help yourself to seconds if you please."

Becky took her seat, though it was a bit odd having her distended belly flirt with the table and her luxurious derriere drifting off the chair. Becky hadn’t enjoyed a meal like this ever since her high school graduation. Her plate was already piled high with food when Tammy entered. Tammy’s eyes twinkled as she took her sit and snatched up the large bowl of mashed potatoes, "See! What I tell ya? Mrs. Layton’s food is goooooooooood!"

Mrs. Layton brushed her hand against Tammy’s thick upper arm; "You always say the sweetest things."

Standing to pour the milk, the glasses abnormally large, Mrs. Layton told Becky, "Please accept my apology, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, otherwise I would have prepared something better than this skimpy meal."

Becky’s eyes grew wide; "This is a skimpy meal?"

Mrs. Layton glanced over to Tammy who humorously smiled, then veered back to Becky, "Of course. I usually serve twice this much."

Becky sipped her milk as Mrs. Layton informed her, "I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I’ll make pork chops with my special gravy, topped with onions and applesauce and a nice salad."

Tammy bounced up and down in her seat in wild enthusiasm, "Mrs. Layton! Mrs. Layton!"

Mrs. Layton chuckled, "Tammy, please. You know you’re always welcome."

Tammy lapped up a spoonful of the mashed potatoes, "Thank you, Mrs. Layton."

"Are you sure you won’t hurt your momma’s feelings eating supper here two days in a row?", Mrs. Layton enquired.

Becky, who was greedily putting away the food, couldn’t have expected Tammy’s response. "Nah, not at all. Momma’s been fussing to me about my weight. Says I’m lighter than I should be at my age. It’ll be a comfort to her if I eat here. I’ll have no difficulty gaining weight with your delicious meals!"

Becky slowed the pace of her food intake, as she was introduced to small town gossip.

"Have you seen Kim Marshall? She can’t be no heavier than 190-pounds?", Tammy conveyed to Mrs. Layton.

Mrs. Layton shrugged her head, "Yup! Too bad, she has such a pretty face."

Tammy poured a generous helping of gravy over her roast beef, "She’s like, only 21, so I wouldn’t be the least surprised she’ll get heavier before she weds."

The conversation between Tammy and Mrs. Layton continued. Topics that ranged from the weather to the VFW picnic, from the price of bacon at the grocery store to Jeb McCoy’s new barn. Becky didn’t bother to participate, she was much too occupied with her meal. The enjoyment was beyond taste, but being able to relinquish her strict diet and not having to worry about calories. Becky guzzled her milk, then proceeded to lob onto her plate another helping of mashed potatoes and roast beef. Dessert consisted of chocolate ice cream. Chocolate, the same culprit that Rebecca claimed soften her tummy, Becky embraced. The grandest victory in any trial wasn’t as sweet.

Mrs. Layton replenished Becky’s glass, taking in the sight of Becky gobbling up the ice cream, she purred, "I gander you have a weakness for chocolate?"

Becky shook her head, "Yes Mrs. Layton, I sure do. Can’t get enough of it."

"Well then", Mrs. Layton pleasantly smiled, "Just wait until you try my chocolate cake."

Tammy enjoyed a rather generous spoonful of ice cream, then chuckled, "Mrs. Layton’s chocolate cake is out of this world delicious

Becky’s hand roamed over her bloated belly, the aura of contentment upon her cute face, “Ahhhhhhhhh, I ain’t had a meal like this since, can’t remember when? But wow, it was amazing.”

Tammy finished her ice cream, then after a long slip of milk, burped. “I take you enjoyed the supper too?”

Mrs. Layton brilliantly smiled.

Tammy nodded, “Yeah, you know your way around the kitchen, I can tell you that much!”
Mrs. Layton took a seat and while enjoying a bowl of ice cream, she endearingly told the girls, “One day ladies; you’ll be just as handy in the kitchen.”

Tammy slowly lifted her well nourished body out of the chair, her exceedingly round belly jiggling, “I’d like to wash the dishes, if you don’t mind?”

Mrs. Layton tilted her head, “Are you sure?”

Tammy laughed as she picked up her bowl, “Yes, of course. My momma always lets me do the dishes at home.”

Rebecca had never washed a dish in her life, though she was strangely compelled to help, “Mind if I give you a hand?”

Tammy waved her on, “Nope, the more the merrier. This is fun.”

“Such fine, upstanding girls!”, Mrs. Layton chimed.

Tammy blushed, “Thank you kindly.”

Mrs. Layton relaxed and enjoyed her dessert as the girls happily washed the dishes. Small talk ensued, though it was mainly Mrs. Layton who ruled the conversation, expressing to them her support in their future roles as dutiful housewives.

Evening rapidly approached and before Tammy left for home, she thanked Mrs. Layton for the meal and made plans with Becky for tomorrow. “Tomorrow what ya say, we grab a milkshake at the diner or something?”

Becky replied with a broad grin, “I can do that, sure, it’ll be fun.”

However, Mrs. Layton had a significantly different schedule arranged for Becky. “That’s very sweet of you Tammy, inviting Becky, but I’m afraid a rain check is in order.”

A puzzled Becky responded with a monotone, “Huh?”

Mrs. Layton strolled over to Tammy as she explained, “Becky will be busy all day tomorrow while I organize a schedule for her duties and in the evening, I’m going to introduce her to Grant.”

“I understand!”, Tammy laughed, “Then perhaps over the weekend?”

Mrs. Layton escorted Tammy to the door, “That will be fine. Give my best to your parents.”

“Sure will”, Tammy agreed as she waved to Becky, “Have fun tomorrow!”

“I’ll make ya a glass of warm milk, Becky. Then we can chitchat a little before bedtime”, Mrs. Layton pleasantly mentioned as Tammy ambled out the door.

Becky leaned her plus size booty against the stove, “Bedtime? It’s barely after nine o’clock.”

Mrs. Layton promptly prepared the warm milk, “Meet me in the living room, and I’ll slice you a little cheesecake to nibble on while we gab.”

Becky obliged with the request and shuffled her plus size body into the large living room.

Actually, abnormally large would be a better term. Full of antique furniture and photographs on the wall seemingly from a bygone era. Becky situated herself on a big comfortable sofa and awaited Mrs. Layton. Mrs. Layton emerged from the kitchen, thus easing her round spacious duff along side of Becky while handing her a glass of warm milk, a generous slice of cheesecake and a napkin.

Becky sipped the milk, while settling the plate on her lap, “Is it mandatory that I retire so early?”

Mrs. Layton diligently informed her protégé, “Our chores start at sun up. We have to get breakfast started for our boarders, then do the laundry and tend to the garden. You’ll just love it.”

Becky crinkled her nose, pausing before sampling the cheesecake, “I’m afraid my skills in housework is not among my better qualities.”

Mrs. Layton acknowledged the fact, “You’ll improve I can promise you that.”

Becky enjoyed an abundant portion of the cheesecake, “That remains to be seen.”

It was then Mrs. Layton’s voice took a serious tone, “Becky, it’s important that you learn well. Most girls your age are already married and have children. Arranging Grant to court you was a tad difficult, being that you’re already twenty-five.”

Becky almost choked on her cheesecake, “Excuse me?”

“No need to fret, because I convinced Grant that you’re a great catch despite your age. Matter of fact, he’s going to wash his pickup for the occasion.”

Becky rapidly consumed the cheesecake; “He owns a pickup truck?”
“I knew you’d like that. It’s red and through it does have a few spots of rust, it usually runs very well even if it‘s been in the shop more times than I remember.”

Rebecca wasn’t one to be courted in a pickup, the very idea didn’t cotton well to Becky either, but she lied, “That’s cool.”

“Now finish your milk and it’s off to bed. Our duties start at first light!”, Mrs. Layton exclaimed.

Becky guzzled the remainder of her milk and once washing out her glass and plate, she was taken to her room. Mrs. Layton gently kissed Becky’s cheek, “Sweet dreams honey. Don’t worry none about making a good impression with Grant, I know he’ll be crazy about you.”

Becky scratched her cushy belly, “Yeah, I guess?”

Mrs. Layton warmly smiled, “Ah, you’re anxious and I can understand. But you’ll do fine.”

Becky shrugged her shoulders as Mrs. Layton continued, “Just act natural and be yourself.”

Becky bit her lip, “Yeah, well, have a good night Mrs. Layton.”

Mrs. Layton journeyed to her quarters, a whimsical tune on her lips. Becky closed the door and exhaled. Her bedroom was simple and undistinguished. A four-poster bed, old-fashioned dresser, a throw rug covering floor and rather girlie yet insipid curtains. In all reality her bedroom was just a few square feet larger than her walk-in closet back in Beverly Hills.

Further more, Becky was deprived of the luxuries that were a prominent fixture in her Beverly Hills bedroom. No big screen TV or computer, no wall to wall carpet or private bathroom or even a vanity table. However, there was a full length mirror right next to her closet. Rummaging through the dresser for nightwear, Becky grumbled, “I’m being set up with a guy who drives a pickup?”

Her hand glided over various nightgowns; most pink in color, all made of cotton. Becky selected a rose colored nightgown with puffy short sleeves, “These aren’t my silk pajama’s but they’ll do.”

Tossing the nightgown on the bed, Becky continued to complain as she undressed, “He needed to be talked into courting me on account of my age, who does he think he is?”

Becky let her dress slide unto the floor, “I swear, if he thinks I’m just an old maid waiting to be hitched, I got news........”

Becky drew her hand over her mouth, “Jeepers, what did I just say? Did I say, jeepers, too?”

Becky closed her eyes, trying to focus on her actually identity, not the simplistic girl in this reality. “I’m Rebecca Sterling....Rebecca Sterling.....”

Becky opened her eyes in the path of the mirror; her reflection was that of Becky Miller.

Revealed to Becky for the first time was her partially naked body in generic bra and granny style bloomers. The straps of her bra digging deep into the flabby tissue of her shoulders, her ample bust haphazardly confined in the synthetic fabric of the cups. A large roll circled Becky’s conventional undergarments that exposed her bulging belly and equally as hefty posterior while displaying her generously beefy thighs.

Likewise her thicker upper arms were minus any hint of firmness and her waist was superfluously pudgy. Becky couldn’t pull herself away from the mirror; her behavior adjusting to the environment / her cognitive thought meshing with her plus size body.

Becky’s lips curled into a delicate smile, riding in an old rusty pickup didn’t seem so uncivilized now. Becky whirled around, catching a glimpse of her luxurious backside, she chimed, “Seems I got a bigger caboose than I thought! But I’ll do all right with Grant,”

Becky pondered with her hand over the spongy layer of fat that covered her hip.

“Seems I might be over the hill by the standards of some, but I’d be a treasure to the right man.” Becky’s voice softly buzzed, “Grant couldn’t dream of a more dutiful housewife than me.”

Upon struggling into her snug nightgown, Becky remarked to herself how adequate it looked on her flourishing body and then decided to see what type of apparel waited for her in the closet.

Giggling like a smitten teenager, Becky opened the closet’s door. A variety of sundresses and gowns hung on wooden hangers. Her wide smile inflated her chubby cheeks as she inspected the garments. Fetching a brazen plaid sleeveless gown, she held it up to her body for size, “This one is cute, I’ll wear it tomorrow when I meet Grant.”

Becky returned to the mirror, holding the dress close to her body.

“Yeah, this will work”, she chirped.

Her apple cheeks flushed a ripe shade of cherry red and she purred, “I know Grant’s just going to fall in love with.....me?”

Becky took a step back, glancing at the gown; she then dropped it where she stood.

“I’m losing it”, her voice quivering, “What’s happening.....to me?”

Becky crinkled her nose, a perplexed expression twisting her pretty face, “I can’t accept myself like this.....I’m a success...succe...I’m a...a.....”

Becky pushed back a loose curl from out of eyes, “I need to concentrate, I need to focus on my career as a......”

Becky’s memory was again blocked. Becky directed her attention to the mirror, her hands gliding over her enormous belly; “I don’t look like this.”

Becky inched her way closer to the mirror, “If I don’t leave here soon; I’ll want to stay.”

Her belly nudging against the mirror, Becky whimpered, “I’m as round as a beach ball.”

Grasping the sides of the mirror with her hands, Becky remembered Leah’s instructions, “I can peer into any mirror....I shouldn’t get greedy and wish for a more successful reality...I have to focus on my natural settings.....my natural settings?”

Becky scratched her chunky thigh, “Okay, I think I have it.”

Becky exhaled, then announced, “I wish to return to my natural setting, I want to leave here.....”

As Becky spoke the mirror began to fog and a cold sensation traveled through her body, “I would like to........”

Before Becky could finish, the door to her room entered and Mrs. Layton walked in, “Excuse me Becky, but you’re much too noisy for this hour of the night, why all the commotion?”

Becky twisted her head, “Leave me alone!”

A sharpness entered her consciousness; there was a thread of memory. Peering back into the mirror, Becky shouted, “I don’t want to be bothered by newspaper reporters or clients or.........”

Her eyes grew wide as the room spun around and a numbing sensation rippled through her body...................
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Old 07-17-2008, 11:17 PM   #4
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Leah sipped her noon time tea as the door of her shop opened. Rebecca staggered in like a punch-drunk boxer, a little dazed and confused.

“Welcome back, I have some time to show you some things,” Leah said as she waved her over to the counter.

Noting the humbled attorney’s obvious disorientation she continued, “You’re just feeling the after effects of jumping realities, you’ll feel up to snuff shortly.”

Rebecca brought herself to the counter, where Leah pulled up a stool and then handed her a few newspaper clippings. Teetering as she climbed aboard the stool, Rebecca then proceeded to read the clippings. But what she read wasn’t what she remembered.

Noticing Rebecca’s startled expression, Leah politely explained, “You asked to still be free of the media on your return. That means your prior life had to be altered. You never were victorious in those high profile cases. All those clients that you defended and were judged not guilty received exactly what they deserved. As a result the paparazzi won’t be making a big deal about you,”

Rebecca’s mouth dropped, “But that’s crazy. I succeeded in.....”

Leah interrupted, “In nothing. All your clients were found guilty, though this time, they were sentenced accordingly and are in jail.”

Rebecca crinkled her nose, “You switched my reality?”

Leah’s eyes flickered, “You, yourself are responsible. You wanted to come back but free of your fame. But look on the bright side.”

“The bright side?”, Rebecca asked.

Leah looked over her bifocals, “There’s no more reporters trailing you, no wannabe’s bothering you. You’re free from the spotlight and the superficial lifestyle it demanded.”

Rebecca squinted, “What has become of me?”

Leah walked around the counter; “Your journey back has briefly dulled your senses. Let’s take a look at this version of Rebecca Sterling and maybe you’ll have some recollection.”

Rebecca acknowledged Leah with a swift nod and then was escorted to the back room where she could glance at her reflection. Rebecca’s posture wasn’t as distinguished and her once confident stride was now embarrassingly clumsy.

Reaching the mirror, Rebecca remained speechless as she scrutinized her appearance. Rebecca’s mane was back to its original brown color, minus the blond highlights and without the wavy composition.

Combed straight back, it was moderately longer, framing the sides of her face. Rebecca’s facial features had softened, her cheeks were fuller and a second chin was in development, removing the alluring quality her facial appearance once projected. Still pretty, but in a more comfortable, less sophisticated manner. Barely any cosmetics at all, her pearl earrings replaced by a variety of small discount ear piercings and around her neck were a reasonably priced charm necklace.

Rebecca’s attire was now rather inconspicuous in contrast to the expensive wardrobe she originally wore when she first happened upon Leah’s antique store. A tacky pale green T-shirt featuring the Las Vegas logo in glittering bright yellow script and natty faded blue jeans with a hole situated over her left knee.

Rebecca puffed up her cheeks; “I look as if I don’t have a dollar to my name.”

“I trust you’re overreacting, dear. You’re no pauper, but I suppose you don’t own a mansion in L.A. either.”

Crinkling her nose, Rebecca carefully examined her figure; “I really let myself go.”

Leah’s commentary didn’t sugar coat the facts, “Since your prestigious law career has evaporated; you have neglected your diet.”

A soft cocoon of fat that distorted her newly acquired flabby body covered Rebecca’s formerly svelte figure. Her upper arms weren’t all that much larger, but lacked even a trace of muscle tone, while her amply endowed bust went up a cup size but was considerably void of it’s firm texture.

Rebecca’s waist had become pulpy with an authentic love handle flourishing over her roomy hips and her pudgy potbelly strained the fabric of her T-shirt while protruding over the waist band of her jeans. A wide indented space revealed her navel, sunk deep, within the confines of her tummy bulge. Leah smiling, gently gripped Rebecca’s shoulders and twisted her around to better view her backside.

Rebecca’s eyes grew wide as she noticed the swollen sphere her derrière had become. Exceedingly round and fat, her tush had drastically inflated, ballooning over her distinctively chunky thighs. Rebecca’s weight had now accelerated to a plump 152-pounds, but appeared at least ten pounds heavier due to her body’s flabby condition. Proceeding to whirl her cumbersome form in Leah’s direction, Rebecca questioned, “How did I manage to get so fat?”

Leah dutifully noted, “Your office butt is the result of a fast food diet and a stationary occupation.”

Rebecca cupped her bulging belly, whining in a manner that exposed her lack of confidence; “I couldn’t possibly let myself get this heavy?”

Leah corrected her, “But you did. Think, concentrate, focus on this reality. What has happen to Rebecca Sterling?”

Rebecca flexed her eyebrows and puffed up her cheeks; “I didn’t win those cases?”

Leah diligently replied, “We’ve already been over that, Becky. Now focus hard, what happened to you?”

Rebecca withdrew her face from Leah’s direction, shifted her body, then peered into the lengthy oak trim mirror. The glass darken as a crisp, crackling sound filled the room. Rebecca caught Leah’s barely audible whisper, “Keep your eyes on the mirror.”

A sliver of light emerged from the blacken mirror, gradually the light broke through and pushed back the darkness. Upon the mirror Rebecca beheld the recent events pertaining to her current reality.

~ Rebecca Sterling fumbled the Arial Hampton case, not winning a penny of the estate for her client, while being countered sued herself by the Hampton estate for slander. Likewise, the verdict of guilty was reached in the Catherine Connors case. During the trial Rebecca was reprimanded on several occasions by the judge due to leading the jury and her over the top courtroom theatrics. Once the trial was over, Rebecca’s license was suspended for inept counseling.

Rebecca waited out her suspension on a Roman holiday, from a Caribbean cruise to a luxurious Paris vacation. However, Rebecca’s career and wealth continued to spiral downward. The lucrative law firm she was associated with fired her, she never had the opportunity to work on the Brandi Tatum Myttle case, and the court disbarred Rebecca from practicing law in California after declaring her incompetent.

Further more, Rebecca was charged with misconduct in the Hampton case, and ordered her to pay the estate $250.000. Rebecca lost her Beverly Hills mansion and her residence in Manhattan. The IRS audit that ensued tapped out what finances she had left.

Though the doors that were once open for Rebecca were closed, she was able to call in a few favors and eventually was hired in Las Vegas at a second rate law firm.

~ Leah’s mirror reverted back to normal reflecting Rebecca’s image. Rebecca’s eyes grew wide with acknowledgment, “I live in an apartment complex not from downtown Vegas.”

Rebecca’s fingers ran through her dark brown hair, “My neighbor’s are basically casino employees, my friends....are waitresses, housekeepers and land scrappers.”

Leah entertained Rebecca with the facts, “All your prestigious friends have disowned you, though you have readily accepted your new friends. You’re closer to them in regards of social class, especially now since you no longer lead such a sophisticated lifestyle. Even your fellow lawyers at that substandard law firm you work at fail to recognize your former status. They barely socialize with you unless it’s work related.”

Rebecca’s body language revealed her discomfort. “What ya expect? My two female co-workers are skinny chicks who give me attitude and the guys have no interest in me because I’m chubby.”

Leah couldn’t help but grin; “It’s not so pleasant is it? Becoming the variety of female you once deemed inferior. Now you’ll receive the same social rejection you once smugly bestowed.”

Rebecca lowered her chin as Leah continued, “At the Law office of Marx and Kaufman your task is minimal. Traffic violations and small claims suits that are of course when you’re not brewing coffee or fetching lunch.”

Rebecca crinkled her nose, “Tell me about it. It really bites.”

Leah shook her head; “You’re distressed about your figure as well. You realize dieting is useless since your will power has become null and void and you rarely eat anything that isn’t fast food or out of a can.”

Rebecca tilted her head, assuring Leah’s statement was true, “I’ve been putting on the weight rather easily since moving to Vegas.”

“Becoming comfortable and relaxed in relationship to your standard of living and work routine”, Leah surmised.

Rebecca placed her hands over her hips; “My roommate reminds me all the time how fat I’m getting.”

Leah prolonged the topic, “Ah your Roommate. She’s a rather voluptuous cashier at a casino. She playfully teases you verbally, but what really gets under your skin is how she flaunts her appearance and brags endlessly about the tips she makes and all the good looking guys she dates.”

Leah strolled around Rebecca gently gripping her shoulders, “But you really can’t blame her? Such an exquisite face, trim hourglass figure.”

As Leah situated Rebecca precisely in front of the mirror, she sarcastically added, “Then again, I haven’t the stomach for those vain types either.”

As the mirror began to fog, Rebecca nervously enquired, “What’s happening?”

Leah replied in confidence, “Becky, it’s been a nice visit. You have done more for justice by visiting my shop than in any courtroom. The wrongs have been righted and your destiny has been altered. There is now a fork in your life road. Only your heart will determine the road you travel - envy over what you had by guile you can no longer practice or joy based on the peace you have witnessed.”

A cold chill zapped through Rebecca’s body as a cold chill followed.

“I’m Not Becky! I’m Rebecca!” she protested.

Leah happily corrected her, “I think most people refer to you as Becky now. Let your heart as it is now determine your course.”

Rebecca covered her eyes as the room began to spin a final time................. Two Alternate Endings -
one dark as a bitter Rebecca reaps what she sowed (click here)

one happy as Becky becomes the woman she was meant to be (click here)
(Click here for next story in this series)

Last edited by Britt Reid; 06-30-2011 at 11:21 PM.
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