Rosie Cheeks Ch 01 First Date Jitters

Rosaline LeBlanc propped herself onto the bathroom counter with her dainty hands. Her elbows stood bent at attention as she made eye contact with the scared girl in the reflective pane of glass directly in front of her.

"Just... breathe, Rosie," she whispered in a hushed tone. The girl in the glass's expression was wide-eyed, a light tinge of crimson touching her freckled cheeks. Her fine blonde hair could have passed for white under the harsh, buzzing lights of the public bathroom. "He asked you out. Remember? He clearly sees something in you. Remember what mom said -- confidence. No need to doubt everything at every turn."

Rosaline looked anxiously at the girl in the glass's expression, hoping for a flash of relief or a smile, but instead found a cold, blank stare directed back at her. She was terrified, and she couldn't explain why. It took everything in the collegiate freshman's power to not slam her tiny hands onto the bathroom sink in frustration. She had chosen the middle of three sinks to stand at, and her palms shook as she attempted to keep them glued to the black granite. She had been so sure of herself, so relaxed, up until the very moment she and her date had waltzed through the movie theatre's front gate. What had gone wrong?!?

The young woman made a vocalization that sounded halfway between a wail and a growl. Her shoulders stooped as she finally unstuck her hands from the countertop and began to splash water into her face. The cool impacts managed to moderately soothe her nerves as she tucked her thin lips into a pursed shape, wanting to spare the cherry red lipstick that adorned them from being washed off.

Taking a deep breath, she tossed a few stray strands of her wavy hair behind her back and straightened her spine to make eye contact with her counterpart in the mirror again. As she did, her eyes glanced over an all-too familiar bulbous mass, colored jet-black, loitering behind her. She shuddered, and against her better judgement straightened her spine further to get a view of the thing in all its grotesque detail. It was, of course, Rosaline's own butt, freakishly large and protruding out behind her like a pair of enormous, perky saddlebags that responded to the brief shifting of her weight with a light wobble. Rosaline's expression took a shade of exasperation as she twisted to look over her shoulder, curious to get a better view of her own prominent shame. Indeed, it was massive -- cartoonishly so, and it was wide to the point that her hips jutted out at nearly a complete right angle from her relatively slender waist. Her massive hips nearly matched the width of the spacing of the three sinks before her, and she realized with a sinking despair that anyone who wished to wash their hands would have to share the space with one of her enormous cheeks if she stayed at the center sink.

Rosaline rapidly turned to the side, hoping to rush to the sink to her left, unintentionally revealing her side profile to her glancing eyes, commanded to by morbid curiosity. Her cakes, shaking heavily with the sudden motion, stood out from the rest of her body to the point that an entire mini-bar could sit atop them, likely with room to spare. They did not sag in the slightest despite their magnitude and indeed wobbled responsively back into place after just a few seconds of uncontrollable jiggling. The topmost surface of both of her cheeks stuck out about three feet from her back before the gentle curve of her ass began, and even then it still protruded father outward as their curve rushed downward to meet the rise of her thighs behind her. GOD, and her thighs! She thought, once again facing the mirror, abandoning the attempts to avert her gaze and fully taking them in one after another. They matched her cheeks in thickness, the veritable tree trunks bulging outward to connect to an immense pelvis with the displeasure of bearing the weight of the whole disgusting affair. The things were forced together even as she stood with her legs moderately apart, and she knew from experience that the boundary between them and her ass was only made clear by the bulge where the colossal cheeks came to rest on her elephantine thighs. They were barely packed into her leggings, battling against the fabric and struggling to breathe, both of them together wide and soft enough to wedge into a manhole without the need to even involve her mammoth ass. She watched as her thighs thinned ever so slightly into her sizeable calves, and then, unbelievably, thinned further into clearly defined ankles and surprisingly dainty feet clad in grey flip flops. Rosaline huffed at her ridiculous proportions, shifting her mortified eyes to her upper body. Her upper body! HA! The thing looked stapled on to a foreign mass, with her relatively flattened stomach, b cub breasts, delicate shoulders, and embarrassingly thin waist. Her warm tie-die top exposed her midriff, and the sheer difference in size between it and her leggings was enough to produce utter awe in even Rosaline herself. Her miniscule body from the waist up gave the impression her natural legs were hidden, buried beneath the enormity of wobbling adipose that was her butt and thighs.

Humiliated despite the lack of eyes other than her own in the bathroom, Rosaline instinctively scowled and stomped a foot. Her mighty left asscheek jumped as if it had a mind of its own in response, jiggling fervently and lightly colliding with its partner to the right to produce a barely audible *thwap!* The resulting weighty undulations made Rosaline want to gag.

The young woman stood there for a moment, taking in her impossible proportions with her eyes wide and breath ragged. Before long the feeling of nausea had passed over her, and Rosaline felt the familiar gnaw of shame in her chest. Her butt, massive as it was, had been a source of near constant ridicule for the entirety of her high school years. It had earned her the names of Rosaline LeButt, Big Booty Judy, and her least favorite, Ms. Maximus, all whispered behind her considerable backside when her classmates thought she was out of earshot, or sometimes just said to her face. She had found herself in embarrassing mess after embarrassing mess, time and time again. Her cheeks were well-known as the bane of school lunches, as her legendary mass could wipe a good two or three trays off a table with just a twist of the enormous hips as she struggled to find a seat. She had crammed herself into downright puny school desks, arriving to class early so that no one could see her unpleasant labor, and left classes late so that no students would witness her often futile struggles to remove the desks' grip on her ass. She had grown used to the ever-present sense of eyes gawking at her twin mounds as she valiantly attempted but eventually gave up on walking slowly to minimize the endless wobbles and waggles her ass produced. It had never worked. Now, an undergraduate student in the beginning of her first year at Garrison University, she had not fared much better. She was out of her element - so terrified of more of the same in a brand new environment was she that Rosaline waited a year after graduating high school to even apply for college, only eventually applying to Garrison and Garrison alone under her mother's insistence. She was hopeful at first and had prayed her days of constant ass-focused humiliation were behind her, but thus far her veritable ghetto booty had garnered just as much attention from the student body at Garrison and caused her just as much strife, if not more. Her impressive academic record had earned her a spot, but she couldn't shake the terror of humiliation after humiliation once again being levied against her. And it was all because of this -- this STUPID. CARTOONISHLY HUGE. ASS!!!!!

This time, Rosaline lost control and slammed her fist into the granite of the sink. Pain shot up through her impacting hand. She grit her teeth as she made eye contact with the terminally frustrated woman before her. A little tear had escaped her right eye, and her light blush had hardened into a deep shade of cherry. She made to wipe away her tear when suddenly the creak of the cheap bathroom door broke the silence. Rosaline flinched and quickly turned on the sink before her, lowering head and shoulders in a faux gesture of confidence as the sounds of the crowd outside of the bathroom briefly became louder, then were dulled again by the bathroom door closing under its own momentum. From behind, Rosaline heard gentle footsteps making their way into the bathroom behind her. Her green eyes quickly shot up from her bent position as she ran her hands under the cool water, and she saw in the mirror a young woman in a yellow dress and black leather jacket with a decidedly un-massive ass gracefully trotting behind her, making her way to the bathroom stalls that shielded the back wall. As she purposefully strutted behind the much wider occupant, Rosaline noticed that the intruder's eyes were focused squarely on the expanse of her cheeks, her mouth lightly agape in the almost-suppressed visage of amazement and shock. The ample woman sighed and cursed silently in her head as the newcomer made her way to the largest of the three stalls and shut the door, thoroughly putting an end to Rosaline's feminine sanctuary.

"Shit..." Rosaline squeaked, barely a whisper.

She had been invited to see a movie today by a young man from her American History class. He had nervously handed her a scrap of paper, which she took with a gentle smile and read after departing for the day. She was rewarded with a phone number initiated by an unfamiliar area code and a simple request, written in scraggly blue ink; "Text me?"

She had, after a brief deliberation, and the two had struck up a few friendly conversations in the two weeks since she had moved to Garrison University. Adapting to this alien landscape of a campus that was so different from the small town where she had spent her entire life was a daunting task, and this young man, to his credit, had made it ever so slightly easier. She'd learned that his name was Max, that he was studying to become a history professor, like her, and that he truly adored scary movies, which was a detail he had revealed to her last night when inviting her to see the premiere of Things Unseen at the local theatre. She'd accepted with cautious optimism, grew readily more excited on the walk over, and had lost herself in a flurry of anxiety upon laying eyes on Max. She rushed to the bathroom, seeking asylum from her screaming mind as she witnessed him wander into the open lobby of the theatre where she'd been waiting. She had been hiding for almost 10 minutes -- Max was going to think she stood him up.

The girl in the mirror shot Rosaline a dejected look. Rosaline responded in kind by blinking and, before she even knew what she was doing, sticking her tongue out at her. "Save your pity," she thought. The girl in the mirror lightly smiled at that, despite the circumstances. The tightness in Rosaline's chest loosened ever so slightly and she stood straight up, her bulbous ass meeting her sudden movement with some light wobbles of its own. She was nervous - no doubt about that - but she couldn't stay in this bathroom staring at her reflection forever. She briefly thought about rescheduling, but steeled herself and straightened her back further, standing at her full height. Why wait? What if this was her one chance to find someone who didn't laugh at her shape? Indeed, how could she expect to connect with someone if she handicapped herself at every turn? Rosaline splashed one more dose of cold water on her face and turned off the sink. No one was stopping her but herself. It was time to get out there and... GO ON A DATE!

Rosaline painted a beaming smile across her face, her little pep talk momentarily relieving her anxiety, and made to propel herself to the lobby and greet Max, who was no doubt getting impatient. As she did, the familiar creak of the bathroom door sounded out again, this time accompanied by a much more sinister sound -- three shrill voices that were incredibly familiar to Rosaline. She just barely made out one, the scratchiest of them all, proclaiming "What's the point of opening the door if you aren't going to -- " before the closing door reestablished silence. The young woman froze in place. That was Britany Foster!

Britany Foster was part of a clique of three women who had taken up residence in Valor Hall on the same floor as Rosaline. Of all the few interactions with students she had had at Garrison University, theirs were by far the most unpleasant. They had cornered her while she was moving a box of her things to her dorm before relentlessly teasing her about the size of her ass.

"Britney, look at the size of her butt!"

"I know, Becca, it's a miracle she made it up the steps. Who's your surgeon, love? You could schedule us a visit, Bailey."

"Girls, girls, leave her alone. We'll get it out of her eventually... She can't be hard to catch, dragging that dumptruck behind her~"

Bailey, the tallest and meanest of the three, had then reeled back and slapped Rosaline's ass, sending it into a flurry of wobbles, the feeling of which had mortified the poor girl. They continued to follow and corner her every chance they got, tormenting her with biting comments, unsolicited gropes and spanks, and threats of reporting her for indecent exposure. Rosaline developed an intense fear of the clique and had taken to calling them the Three B's as she devised strategies to avoid their gazes.

And now, here they were! The Three B's, her own personal devils, poised to interject themselves into her date night. And she had just regained some confidence, too! Thinking fast, Rosaline turned on her heel and rushed to the stall at the far right of the bathroom, the one situated in the corner of the room. Frantically she began pushing on the closed door.

"Um... occupied," a nervous voice from within asserted. Rosaline's eyes grew wide. In her haste, she had completely forgotten the woman that had taken the largest stall!

But that only left...

Rosaline's verdant green eyes scanned the remaining two stalls, both of them smaller than their counterpart in the corner. On principle Rosaline made every attempt she could to avoid smaller stalls, but this was a dire scenario. Beginning to break out into a cold sweat, she rushed to the second stall and threw the door open, desperate for shelter from her tormentors that had to be seconds away from entering the bathroom. She lunged forward, catapulting herself into the safety the stall's thin walls offered...

Except, Rosaline didn't find herself safely entombed within the plastic laminate walls. Instead, she only made it about a foot in before the enormity of her hips ground into either side of the stall's doorframe, slowing her rapid retreat into a halt with most of her titanic booty still protruding into the bathroom. She gasped loudly as she attempted to force her cakes through the aperture, panic and fear cascading inside of her as she quickly found her efforts to be in vain. Her soft, nearly exercise ball-sized asscheeks were wider than the stall, let alone the narrower entrance to it. They smushed into the doorframe, but Rosaline, her legs kicking, could not produce a force strong enough to actually propel them through the opening. Attempting to back out to rectify her mistake, perhaps try a different angle of approach, yielded the same results -- part of her ass and her gargantuan thighs had made it through with the force of her initial impact and now could not be drawn back out. Rosaline began to breathe rapidly as her list of options became shorter and shorter -- she had wedged her massive ass into the stall's doorframe and was now completely immobilized. The door, still ajar, swung back from the momentum with which her hips had impacted the stall and lightly collided with Rosaline's huge right buttcheek, initiating a ripple of somewhat restrained wobbling from the compressed mountain of flesh.

Despite her terror, the young woman groaned and took inventory of her current predicament as she experienced the not-at-all unfamiliar sensation of her cheeks being pushed into one another, their outer edges being restrained and dug into by the cursed dimensions of confounded small space. Rosaline, with her incredibly generous proportions, was not at all unfamiliar with the state of her ass being entirely, hopelessly stuck, and indeed she was rather famous for it in her senior year of high school wherein her gelatinous source of shame had reached its then largest size. Her cheeks had held her hostage between doorways, in seats, in cars, windows, and more, and legendarily had occasionally required contacting the fire department in her small town to assist in freeing her. She had even begun to recognize some of the firefighters and knew them by name. Rosaline shuddered as she recalled one instance wherein she had been held fast between two wide-set fence posts she had attempted to traverse by walking sideways, instead succeeding in trapping herself with one enormous asscheek on each side of the post behind her. Abandoned by the other seniors that had invited her along to go fishing, no amount of struggling gained her any release, and she was there for hours while waiting for rescue.

Strangely, the readily recognizable scenario almost served to calm Rosaline's nerves as she began the familiar process of exploring her options to free herself, despite the added complication of avoiding the Three B's. She could likely work her way out backwards with a few minutes of time, depending on the severity of stuckage. She discarded the idea, as she would still be left exposed to her tormentors when they entered the bathroom. Even if she approached from a different angle, there was no guarantee she could free herself for the second attempt in time, and her bulbous derriere likely wouldn't fit in smoothly from that orientation, either. That only left proceeding forward through the compression in an attempt to hide herself. Rosaline made her choice.

The young woman made prisoner grunted with apprehension and, reaching out her delicate arms to her sides, felt the smooth plastic that comprised the doorway. She could reach, with room to spare! That was a boon -- the young woman's hips were very nearly wider than her entire armspan, and she had occasionally been stuck fast in locales where her arms could afford her no purchase from which to force her way out. Her immense legs, problematic as they were, began working in tandem with her arms to wedge herself deeper into the stall. Her legs were incredibly strong from supporting her hulking butt for her entire life, and they did more than her arms ever could to drive her deeper. Still, the added thrust was contributing, and she felt her protruding walls of flesh barely begin to graze along the doorframe's interior. Rosaline twitched her hips back and forth in an attempt to reduce the friction on her backside, but this did little to ease the process. She noted with some horror and annoyance that while she gradually worked past the thinnest part of the doorframe, her wobbling wagon rushed outward and slapped either side of the stall with a *Paph!* as she began to ever so slightly enter the plastic laminate cavern that was the stall. Despite her efforts, reality was reality, and her lower body was so wide that she was still unable to fit within in the wider interior of the stall without her hips touching the wall on both sides. Factoring in the enormous expanse of ass behind her, she came to the realization that once she was in, she wouldn't be able to turn around!

Frantically, Rosaline shot a glance over her shoulder at the still-vacant bathroom. Britany, Becca, and Bailey were nowhere to be seen, held up at the entrance door by some unknown delay. But for how long? She could just make out her sorry state of compression in the mirror, her gigantic ass and fat thighs wedged into the stall like sardines in their tin. Rosaline huffed. Anyone else could have fit in this stall easily, but it was borderline inaccessible for her! Were she actually planning on using the toilet, she would have to force her way in backwards. She silently cursed the woman in yellow that had robbed her of the larger stall and continued her laborious struggle forward, huge legs taking sluggish step after sluggish step, her hips and donk audibly sliding against the walls, her comparatively small arms reaching for any purchase they could find. After continuing for what felt like an hour but couldn't have been more than a minute, she shot another glance back, beads of sweat still gathering on her brow, and emitted another exasperated groan at the sorry sight. Over the veritable landscape of flesh her massive butt had created in the stall, she could see that its furthest protrusion was STILL not completely within her would-be saving grace.