Author's Note: I would like to thank my dear friend Allan for providing me with the inspiration for this story.
*
Priscilla Widener was a pretty girl. Everyone knew that. With her long, jet-black hair, startling cobalt-blue eyes, and a petite, perfectly symmetrical nose, she made an unforgettable picture of loveliness to all she met. And standing at an impressive 5' 9" with a bust size that measured just a tiny bit shy of 38 DD, you would think that most men would have fought tooth and nail to get a date with her. But this would be an exaggeration. Why? Because Priscilla Widener was fat. Not fat as in obese, but fat as in zaftig with a little more padding around the caboose—just enough to place her among the ranks of the big and beautiful. Yet most people saw her as fat. In fact, Priscilla herself knew she was fat, and she hated it.
Priscilla didn't start out life as a fat baby. Both of her parents were of nominal weight and she had a more or less normal appetite all through her childhood years. That is, until she got to be thirteen. Then all hell broke loose.
Her parent's divorce was a nasty one and Priscilla was caught in the middle—as is usually the case with children, and especially since she was an only child. What exactly motivated her toward gluttony was at first indeterminable. But as the months went by and she kept putting on more and more weight, her parents finally took her to a psychologist who determined that the girl's weight gain was directly related to the anxiety she was feeling about her parent's impending divorce. By the time she reached her fourteenth birthday, she was 5' 5" tall and weighed 180 pounds.
It was bad enough that Priscilla had to witness the painful dissolution of her parent's marriage, but to have become the constant butt of her classmates' cruel jests was even worse. And it didn't help that her name so conveniently rhymed with some of the children's rather colorful
ad hoc
phrases: "Priscilla, Priscilla, the big fat gorilla!" Or, "Every day Priscilla just keeps getting Widener!" It was all very demeaning and meant to satisfy that mysterious part of a child's nature that finds amusement in cruelty.
The constant barrage of insults finally drove the congenial girl to adopt a more introverted nature, and by the time she was ready to enter high school, she had acquired only a few friends—mostly girls who suffered from the same malady. Even her relatives, who should have acted toward her with far more equanimity, found it incumbent upon themselves to play amateur psychologist, offering her tips on how to lose weight, or gently scolding her when she attempted to procure a second helping of food at the dinner table. This was all done with an air of concern for the girl's best interests, but it was a futile effort: the nice, amiable Jewish girl from Manhasset was far too intelligent and astute to take her relatives' warnings as anything more than a ploy to make themselves look immensely wise in her eyes, and it only made her act more distant toward them.
Priscilla's father, Alan, was a handsome man of 38, tall, and prematurely gray. He was the senior partner in the law firm of Widener, Scharf and Goldstein, prominent Manhattan attorneys who specialized in criminal law. He was what psychologists would call a "Type A" personality—a person driven to succeed. He pushed himself hard and expected his colleagues to follow his example. The problem was that he expected the same fanatical devotion to excellence from Priscilla, who, like her mother, preferred to travel the road through life in baby steps, pausing every now and then to enjoy the scenery along the way. It wasn't that Priscilla was lazy or indifferent; she wasn't. But she failed to see how her workaholic father could really be enjoying life with the burdensome schedule he kept, or how it could benefit his health by working himself to the point of exhaustion. As her mother and father became more estranged over time, she retaliated by packing on the pounds, and her father mistakenly blamed her gain in weight to laziness, often calling her a "fat and lazy" kid. In time, she began to avoid him, seeking refuge in her books or by hanging out with the few female friends she had made.
Selma Widener was another matter. She was a genuinely caring woman who did everything in her power to keep her daughter happy. She was of medium height, attractive, and at 37 was still every bit as shapely as she was during the height of her modeling career, which she had abandoned once she had married. She had a carefree persona that sometimes belied her otherwise motherly nature. She loved to give parties and thrived on fostering relationships with "progressive" types of people that mostly included women who were either artistic or had achieved some measure of success in the business world. Once she and her husband had divorced, these parties became more or less a "woman's only" kind of gathering wherein the issue of female superiority was always at the forefront of their discussions. Although Priscilla was not allowed to take part in these events, she did overhear much of what was said, and it intrigued her greatly.
Unlike her compulsive husband, Selma did not see the world as a rat race, and could not understand why people must sacrifice their own happiness for the sake of making money. Her own family was middle-class folk—her dad had his own dry cleaning business that he owned with his two brothers and her mom was a housewife. They were never rich, but they had enough money to live comfortably. The most important thing in the Goldman family was love, and Selma learned early that money was only a tool that could buy the comforts of life, but love it could never buy. It was this ideology that Priscilla absorbed, not the success-driven ethic of her father.
It was during her sophomore year in high school that Priscilla met and befriended a girl who was to become her best friend. Her name was Claudia Olivetti, an auburn-haired Italian beauty who lived only a few streets away from Priscilla. Claudia was tall, thin, with big breasts and a perfectly rounded butt that made guys drool. She was gregarious, intelligent, outspoken, and unscrupulously honest. She was the most beautiful girl in school and by far the most popular. Yet, she was very circumspect in regards to her choice of friends, choosing to align herself with those with whom she instinctively felt she could trust, rather than to associate with a wide coterie of "friends" simply because it might be fashionable to do so. She and Priscilla found that they had a lot in common, and in a short time became as close as sisters.
Under Claudia's guidance and loving support, Priscilla began to lose weight. Priscilla's mother and father were legally divorced by the time she was 16, and she continued to live with her mother in the same house while seeing her father every weekend. Both of her parents thought very highly of Claudia, not only for the girl's beauty and character, but also because of her positive influence upon their daughter. In roughly a year's time, Priscilla had shed most of her excess weight and had joined the ranks of Claudia's inner circle. She had never been happier.
It was a few days after her eighteenth birthday that she found Claudia at her front door, holding a CD in one hand, and impatiently ringing her doorbell with the other. As she opened the door, the fiery beauty rushed past her and up the stairs leading to her bedroom.
"Hurry up!" You've got to see this!" the girl exclaimed as she disappeared up the stairs.
Priscilla quickly followed her friend into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.
"My mother is in the kitchen," Priscilla reminded her friend.
"So?"
"So, she might have heard you."
"Oh, I see. You think I have some porno don't you?"
"Well? Don't you?"
"Yes!" Claudia laughed. "But this isn't your usual garden variety kind of stuff!"
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see."
Without another word, Claudia removed a CD and inserted it into the CD player. In moments the image of a young, handsome, and very naked boy appeared on the screen.
"Oh, my God!" Priscilla laughed. "Is that your brother?"
"Yup, it's Tony. Just watch."
Tony was Claudia's older brother—actually, her stepbrother. He was sitting on the edge of his bed bent over such that he could absorb about one half of his huge, erect phallus into his mouth.
"Holy shit!" Priscilla exclaimed. "How did you get this?"
"I stole it from his room."
"No shit!"
"He stuck a camera on a tripod and filmed it. I burned a copy and left the original on his desk. He'll never know."
Priscilla could not take her eyes off the screen. "This is great! I love it. Look at him go! Ha! Ha!"
Claudia laughed hysterically. "Can you believe this? I never knew why he spent so much time in his bedroom! Now I know!"
"Look at the size of that thing! It's got to be a good 12-incher or more!"
"Or more!"
The girls continued to shriek loudly, completely forgetting about Priscilla's mother. To their horror, the door suddenly opened and Selma came walking in asking what all the commotion was about. When she saw the image of Tony on the screen her mouth fell open.
