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Samantha Part 7
🕑 Added 2021-03-25 00:47:50 +0000 UTCChapter 7: The New Girl
As Anya Svin’ya was pushed in her wheelchair down the fabled halls of Marilyn Monroe she was filled with emotion buried under her ice cold demeanor.
She could remember growing up in Moscow and being rich and powerful enough to be able to afford indulgence. While the State banned western films she was granted access. She was granted all sorts of luxuries to the point of her swollen obesity. At a thousand pounds Anya was in the top one percent of the student body of Marilyn Monroe’s Academy for Corpulent Ladies. She might even be one of the fattest girls in the entire Soviet Union in general.
“Pesky western bourgeois,” Anya said to her maid/handler Annika. “Don’t you think it’s disgusting to be so arrogant about their position in the world?” Annika, tall and thin as a rail with her hair pulled back in a tight bun, wore an all white suit that was accompanied by a hammer and sickle lapel pin. On her angler face she wore a thick pair of ray bans. “This school is only possible by the tyranny of the upper class.”
It was a rather strange sight, the two of them. Going on, trashing their host country, and yet about to indulge in the famed Monroe cafeteria. As the elevator rose to the top dessert floor. Anya had heard about Monroe all her life, who in the world hadn’t? The place where the ultra rich of the world send their daughter to fatten up. The school of debutantes and socialites networking between powerful old families. Of course there were a few legitimately going there for an education. But otherwise it was the famed playground of the ultra rich indulging in ultra obesity.
And daddy’s little Mazhory always got what she wanted. Comrade Svin’ya was fortunate enough to be so high up in the Party and so his daughter was sent to indulge her heart out.
Ice cream, sundays, splits, they were all ready for Anya to start gorging herself. But before she dug in Annika stopped her. “You know what comes first.” Annika held up a single finger and a needle extended out of it. She undid Anya’s shirt and revealed her big massive beach ball of a belly. At her size it took up the majority of the real estate of her mobile platform. Chair would be too simple a word for it. Only someone like Annika could handle moving such a heavy weight.
Annika was an android.
After John F Kennedy survived his assasination attempt in 1963 the space race intensified and after the United States landed on the moon in 1966 so too did the USSR. Decades of travel between Earth and the Moon and the advances of moon minerals allowed the area of robotics to advance to such a rate Androids were commonplace with the very rich. Perfect servants, practical slaves, these androids looked human but there was always something off about them, some uncanny valley that made them instantly recognizable. It was easy to tell an android from a human.
Annika grasped a big handful of Anya’s copious amount of flesh. Her lips turned upward, “It is rather comical you have such a large meat thing. Heh, Heh, Heh”
Her laugh was unnatural, it conveyed a type of laugh inappropriate for the occasion, Her grip was a little rough and stiff, but not to the point of hurting the bloated Mazhory. Her belly spread far out past her knees, hanging down to her shins. Holding the big sack of blubber Anikka injected the needle into it and Anya immediately felt an insulin injection, her fat face scrunched up into her chins as she was given the shot. She pulled out the needle and disposed of it.
Giving Anya her insulin injections were part of her progaming, her mission purpose. She had a built in insulin production unit that allowed her to give Anya the right dose at any time.
“There now, you may have all you want”
Anya dug in, going hog wild. She held the glass dishes close to her mouth, held in little pudgy balloon hands she had a complete and utter sweet tooth. She became a type 2 diabetic on her sixteenth birthday and started insulin on her 17th. Now at 20 she was up to six shots a day. The truth, as the diabetic russian gorged herself, was that Anya Svin’ya was a complete and utter Americophile. She loved all things American, it was why she begged and cried and demanded she be sent to this place, this paradise of western decadence. It was where she would pile on the fat. She was determined to be as fleshy and meaty as the most morbidly obese American. She could be more obese than them.
All she had to do was eat.
Somehow a bit of ice cream got splattered on Annika’s glasses. She pulled them off, revealing glowing red eyes. She took a piece of cloth and cleaned them off before placing them back over her glowing eyes, now only a dim red glow could be made out through her dark glasses.
Anya shoved cake down her mouth, pushed it in with her fingers. Her mouth was smeared with frosting and ice cream and more and more cake. She was given lots of milk to wash down the cake, ice cold milk and the cakes kept coming. Oh how she gorged. Tilting her head back as she ate caused several rolls to bulge out from behind her fat neck. She was such a messy eater, not bothering with napkins as she gasped and wheezed for air while grasping for warm gooey brownies with chocolate syrup. She drank syrup straight from goblets like the new Russian aristocracy she was. Chocolate stained her white dress shirt, a shirt that contained enough material to cover a car. Her green tie was similarly caked in, well, cake. Her fat heavy arms fell to her sides and dirtied up her green skirt as well.
“Annika, feed me, my arms they tire.”
Annika did as she was told, taking brownies and ice cream and giving her a good seeing too. “Hungry as always my dear Anya,” Annika did not tire of putting a spoon to her mouth.
Finally there came a point where she could eat no more. Anikka gave her belly another injection, always ready for her charge.
Meanwhile on a lower floor you were plowing through a double bacon cheeseburger. That vacation really did you good, you still had your brown town. It made your bronzed fat rolls somehow healthier. You ate along with your BFF and roommate Lizzie. For the first time you felt easy and not riddled with anxiety. You had your club and you had your best friend, you were happy. That vacation put the pressure of Sabrina behind you. You were stuffing with Lizzie who giggled telling you about what had happened while you and your club went to Australia.
She was overjoyed having you back, she had reached 600 pounds thanks to the new feeding systems in place at the room. She was immobile and was in a Schmidt brand mobility scooter. She would be wheezing for air, and her cheeks would be shot red. She would even fart from all the effort.
You knew very well it was getting rougher for you too. Your binges lasted shorter and shorter, your chest would inevitably tighten and you had to cut them short. After one of those episodes you lose your appetite and you have to wait until next time. It was coming, you were going to need a heart transplant soon. They’d done all they could through bypass surgery and even implanted an ICD, but even then your heart was just too fatty.
You take a big bite of your burger. You felt so fat feeling so unhealthy. You wiggle in place as you eat from your burger, eating another in your other hand. You had heard some good news from your daddy: You had a heart transplant ready!
You were really excited because your weight gain since coming to the school had pushed your fat strangled organs to their breaking points. Your operation was due in a few days and then you would have to go home to recover. It sucked you’d miss a few days but you promised your friends you’d come back as soon as you were healed.
But until the operation you were a hog unleashed. Binging on salted cheese fries you ate with increased vigor. “Oh Lizzie, nothing says absurdly bloated and obese like clogged arteries.” Lizzie nodded her fleshy face, “You said it. Getting nice and unhealthy is like half the fun in getting big!” At 600 pounds she was now a hill of a girl much like you. It was a miracle of modern science you were alive to be honest, such was the amount of weight you’ve put on thus far.
Grease and fats filled your belly much as it filled your veins. You were sweating buckets, you felt over insulated like a blubbery walrus. You were encased in over 900 pounds of yellow greasy flabby fat. Your flab and meat were bloated and round and sagged down everywhere. There was not one part of you that did not sag under the heavy weight of gravity's pull. 900 pounds is a lot of fat and it keeps you sweating up a storm, beads of sweat prespired from your forehead as you ate greasy fried chicken and drank gravy from a gravy boat.
As you drank you suddenly dropped the boat on yourself. “Hhhhng! My arm!!” You yell out, gasping for air. You contort your face and clutch your chest tightly. Your heart was beating so fast you thought you could hear it in your head. It hurt so bad struggling to pump blood through your fat clogged arteries. You felt the ICD in your chest activate and give your heart a jump shock. “Ooof!” You grunt and groan deeply at the ICD going off
Lizzie calls out for Miss Emily who rushes over with a canister of oxygen that she quickly attaches to your mouth. “Don’t worry Sam, I notified the paramedics. We’ll take you to the hospital.” The academy had its own hospital on campus for the many girls who succumbed to the prices of their indulgences.
Feeling exhausted from this excruciating experience you closed your eyes and you were taken to the Marylin Monroe Academy Hospital.
It was there the doctors determined it was indeed a heart attack. The stents they had put in your heart when you were 8 were now all plugged up. They were moving the heart transplant ahead of schedule, it would be done at the school, there was little time to waste.
As you sat in your hospital room your friends were all visiting you. However, you were less than happy.
“You girls know I can’t eat before surgery.”
Lizzie, Adele, Hildi, Nina, Sophia, and Kiko were all eating tacos and chimichangas.
“It’s my day in the club, so we’re having tacos,” Sophia explained, but you shook your head, “I know that, but I can’t have any! This is torture!”
“Especially since Nina put some great curry powder into the meat, it’s totally delish!” Lizzie giggled, taking a big hearty bite.
You cross your arms over your huge belly and pout, which made the big butted Adele laugh, “Just relax, you don’t want another attack before you get your new heart.”
“It is pretty amazing,” Sophia commented, “That you need an entirely new heart.”
“I know!” You gush, your pout turning into a big smile, “My heart is just too fat and damaged to support me anymore.”
Lizzie put extra guac on her taco and asked, “Are you going back home after you get released?” You nod, “Just for a little bit, maybe a week. I’ll need to recuperate after the operation. It’ll be a great opportunity to see my family.”
Adele brushed your blonde locks tenderly, “The club will still be around, maybe we can do zoom meetings.”
That brought a smile to your face, Thank God for that I’ll miss you girls so much. You were my first real friends and you mean a lot to me.”
The girls let out a chorus of “Awwww” and gave you a group hug before it was time for your operation and you were pushed to the operating room. The operation was long, it took nearly 8 hours to take out your ruined heart and attach a brand new one in your chest.
Lucky you, you get to live based on someone else's sacrifice. A healthy 26 year old girl was killed in a terrible car wreck, but her heart is going straight in you so that you can indulge just a little bit more.
After the operation the doctor showed you your old heart and you were flabbergasted by how thick layers of yellow fat coated the enlarged heart. It honestly looked like a whopper with cheese. “Oh wow, that’s my heart?” You weekly mutter, so wiped out from the heavy drugs they had you on.
You felt weak all through the recovery process, falling in and out
“You’ll be kay, Miss Lang.” you heard your other handler Lance say but you were still under a medical drug induced haze. You looked outside the window, passing the cafeteria, the dorms, the science center, the Omega Mu sorority house, and then finally left through the gilded gates of the school.
=======
“Oh my baby, I’m so happy you made it!”
Your mother, a blubbery heifer as well, came hobbling from the front door as the van pulled in. Her massive frame filled a black pants suit. Her movement was assisted by a heavy bariatric cane that supported her weight. Her plump hand gripped the cane with all her might.
She leaned in for a hug while you were dazed on your scooter. As she leaned forward your eyes caught her ever present golden crucifix. Her massive mammaries rubbed against your face while she hugged you. Breaking the hug your mom took in your size. “Goodness honey, you look like you’re having the time of your life there.”
“She started school at seven hundred twenty one pounds, and as of her operation she’s nine hundred and two pounds, a gain of one hundred eighty one pounds,” Miss Emily proudly declared, having been with you for the majority of your blimping. She fed you when you were too stuffed to do it, in many ways she was responsible for a good percentage of that fat wobbling on your body.
Your mother stroked your fat cheeks, your face looked like it sat in the middle of a round puddle of fat. Her hands pinched your thick chin, at this point your multiple piggy chins had melded into a single flabby ring that obscured your neck. She smiled, “I prayed hard to Jesus for your operation, just like after your first heart attack” She brushed your hair back, “Jesus took care of my baby, I knew he would.”
You give a tired smile, “Thanks mom, I just want to go to my room and sleep.”
“She’s under heavy sedation,” Lance explained, “She’ll be in and out for a while.”
“Well, I’ll be in the kitchen cooking some spaghetti, it’s her come back meal.”
Your mother gave you a glance over, “I think I might have to double the amount I make.”
Lance and Emily took you to your pastel pink room where they assisted you out of your scooter. You flopped unceremoniously onto your bed, which tipped over to one side.
“Oh wow,” Lance whispered in amazement as he and Emily heaved and hooved, tucking your enormous body under the covers. Lance actually had to sit down, “Jesus Em, I don’t know how you do this every day.”
Miss Emily rolled up her sleeve to show her strong arms, flexing she said, “Samantha is a great workout, but even I’m nearing my limits.”
“Doesn’t the school provide androids?” Lance ventured to which Emily waved her face, fanning herself, “They do, I may have to look into an android to join me in helping Miss Lang. I can’t move a thousand pound whale like her.”
They left you to sleep where you went in and out of, never really dreaming. You vaguely recall removing the covers and then removing your clothes. With so much blubber you were always overheating. Your lard acted as insulation and trapped heat, it made you sweat like a pig and dampen your pillow with your constant presparition. The clothes and the blanket were not helping you at all so they had to go.
When Miss Emily came to see this she helped put on a loose pink nightgown that back in your mother’s day was called a muumuu. The cotton gown would be enough to keep you decent while you recovered, not even caring to eat.
“What? She’s not hungry?”
Your mother was surprised at the news Lance and Emily gave her.
“I guess Britney can have it. Britney!!”
A great series of thumps were heard as an enormous blonde heaved into the room while leaning on her own bariatric cane.
“Yeah mom? I was in the middle of doing a Tik Tok, you know I have to prepare for these things,” Britney paused to take a deep breath and wiped her brow of sweat with a broad forearm, “I’ll need to take a whole half hour just to get ready again.”
“Oh hush, I have good news!” Your mother quieted your complaining sister, “Sam is still coming out of her sedatives so she can’t have her welcome home spaghetti, I’m sure I can count on you to eat it all up.”
Sam’s eyes lit up, “Mom I LOVE your spaghetti, I could eat it all week. Hell yeah!”
“Language!” Your mother hissed at your sister’s language before adding, “Have you visited your sister yet?”
Britney rolled her eyes, “I figure it’d be better to visit her after she’s off all those drugs and she’s not drooling on herself,” to which she paused and said, “Although taking a pic of her drooling would be great for my Instagram.”
“Britney Madonna Lang!”
Your mother shouted out your full name while slamming her fat palm on the kitchen island, her thick fat neck wobbling in fury and her fleshy cheeks turning red.
“Now now Mrs. Lang, remember your blood pressure,” Miss Emily eased your mother into a roller chair in the kitchen as she held her hand to her forehead, her elbow resting on her mushy stomach.
“I was just kidding mom, you don’t need to blow a gasket. I’ll visit her when she feels better. In the meantime I’ll be happy to help myself to that spaghetti.
“Help yourself then,” your mother wearily tells you before muttering, “Emily, I need my pills.”
Your sister took the skillet full of meat sauce and poured it over the big pot of drained noodle, mixing them together before taking the big pot back with her to the living room. Once she sat the pot on the coffee table she collapsed back into her seat, fanning herself with her pudgy hands that were decorated in yellow nail polish. Her long straight blonde hair with pink tips was a bit damp from all the effort.
She really had put on a lot of weight since you left for Marilyn Monroe, it couldn’t be stated how much she had taken advantage of a house without you in it. She unzipped her yellow hoodie allowing her big collection of stretch marked belly meat to come surging out, almost as if her tummy had been held back by it. The lard pushed out over her thighs, covering her lap like a blobby tsunami of blubber that took everything in its path. The lardy meat itself was sweaty like it had been cooking in her hoodie.
Britney took a deep breath and heaved herself forward, her belly slapping down like a sack of shit against the couch. Feeling the sensation of her heavy fat pulling on her back made Britney let out a sharp moan while she dug a serving spoon into the pot to glut herself. Bits of spaghetti would fall from the spoon and land on her fat swaddled knees, staining the white tights she wore.
Of course you had no knowledge of this.
How could you? When you were too busy in your own narcotic wonderland. While chasing the dragon in your yellow submarine you were unaware of the many things happening around you; a slight fever had worked up inside you and while you could clearly see Emily and Lance tending to you you were largely unaware.
“There, there Samantha,” Lance uttered while rubbing your body with a cold wash cloth. The cloth went deep between your sweaty rolls, another on your forehead. Lance made sure to keep your scar dry. This wasn’t your first scar to go down your chest, your previous scar had to be reopened in order to take your fat diseased heart out.
You saw your mother hobble into a chair and hold her crucifix to her forehead in prayer, but could hardly speak. You were just too hot.
It lasted a day, but you ultimately came out of it.
Blinking your eyes you could make out Britney eating a massive platter of scrambled eggs covered in cheese and ketchup.
“Oh hey, you’re up dog face.”
You groaned thrusting your head back, muttering, “I’d rather have a dog face over a zit face.”
“Psssh,” Britney snorted, “I’m glad you’re doing better. I covered you with a bed sheet, I don’t need to look at my nude sister.”
“Thanks for the consideration,” You sarcastically said while rubbing your eyes.
“You’ve been out since yesterday. In all seriousness are you feeling better?”
You took a breath and smile.
“The dull aching pain I constantly have is gone, I haven’t felt this pain free in forever.”
You reach down at a flap of fat on your hip and lift it up before letting it flop down, “Maybe next I can get a hip replacement.”
Your sister laughed, “You’re scooter bound, you don’t need a replacement, it's not like you’re going to be walking any time soon.”
“It would just be nice to be in as little pain as possible. Life is pain, I get it, but the key is alleviating it any chance we get, you know that. I haven’t felt pain free in my chest since my grafts were put in.”
“And now you have a whole new heart to fatten up,” Britney said while she stared at you, taking you in for the first time. “Jesus Sam, you got fat. It’s no wonder they had to move the surgery forward.”
Your sister sweeped the sheet off you, making you yelp, “H-hey!”
“Seriously Sam? Nine hundred pounds? I just reached 600 and here you are nearly a thousand. I thought you were going to come back heavier, but this is just outside my wildest expectations.”
Britney reached for your wild ever growing belly sack that separated your legs. You were sat upright, as was to be expected for a fat Americana princess like you, propped up on countless pillows, your fat ass spreading out on your king size reinforced bed. A lard pile, fat stacked ontop of fat with a fat head on top.
When Britney started to wobble your fat you felt your hunger suddenly rise to the top. “Ohhhh, oh Britney, I’m so hungry. Can you get your fat immobile sister something to eat?”
“Oh that’s right,” Britney turned to the platter of eggs, “Mom told me to bring this to you,” she took a bite, “But,” two more bites, “I just ate it all.”
“You bitch!” You swore at her before crying out “Moooooom!”
========
At the school Lizzie was rather glum.
The absence of you from the dorm had left a lonely hole that she filled up using the tubes installed in the dorms. The tubes were connected to a tank in the ceiling that could be set to different flavors: Chocolate, white chocolate, and peanut butter. The tanks would pump the gooey pudding mix down Lizzie’s gullet, it was what had upped her weight into the six hundred pound range.
It was the biggest upgrade the student council had given to the dorms in some time and Lizzie was positively upset that you didn’t have enough time to use it with her after you had returned from Australia.
It sucked, she had lost a great friend in you, and while you were still coming back Lizzie struggled to deal with the loneliness of your absence. She couldn’t enjoy her favorite anime without you along with her to fan girl together over the lewd scenes of hern yaoi animes.
It led her to explore the academy grounds a bit more in a search for distraction. She had finally felt the need to use a mobility scooter and rented one from the academy garage. It was green and matched her green and black checkered skirt and the necktie of her uniform. It was okay for what it was, but she wanted to bug her mom to buy her her own one like what Sam had one custom fitted to her and her alone.
As she scooted around campus she caught sight of something most unusual for Marylin Monroe. A stick thin girl with black hair walking around in black shorts and a black Sailor Moon t-shirt. Oh! Lizzie knew what Sailor Moon was. You scooted over introducing yourself, “Oh hi there, are you lost? Are you visiting?”
“No, actually,” the girl sighed, looking totally out of place. “I’m a new student, I transferred here on the Kennedy Grant. My name is Sheena Price.”
Lizzie’s mouth dropped open, causing her chin to jiggle slightly before realizing what her reaction must have looked like, quickly apologizing “Oh! I’m so sorry for my reaction, I’m just-”
“Shocked to see someone skinny here, yeah I know. I’ve been getting that all day, it’s okay.”
“I know the Kennedy Grant is highly selective, you must have worked your butt off to get it.”
“I did, it was really competitive but I managed enough credits and lucked out in getting the grant. It should pay for a full four years here.”
“That’s wonderful!”
“Yeah I know. I’m currently waiting on my school uniform, they have to custom make it. They apparently don’t carry them in my size…”
“Oh, um” Lizzie blushed at the awkwardness, “I’m sure you’ll grow into them eventually.”
“That’s not really what I’m here for. I know the reputation of the school, but I’m here for purely academic purposes. Trust me, I’ve tried, my mom sent me to fat camps every year as a kid to fatten me up, but it never worked. I’ve been skin and bones my whole life while my half sister is a great big cow, I’ve accepted that’s the way I’m going to be.”
Lizzie smiled, “Well as long as you’re happy with yourself that’s what matters.”
Sheena smiled back as well, “Yeah, it’s been a long journey, maybe I’ll tell you my life story.”
Lizzie laughed, “So I guess that makes us friends?”
Sheena laughed as well, “I sure hope so, it’s my first day.”
“You like anime, right?”
“Of course! I love Naruto, Sailor Moon, and Evangelion.”
“Oh awesome, I have Evangelion in my dorm, wanna watch EVA with me?”
“Sure!”
