**Warning, this story contains material and language that some may find upsetting such as body shaming.**
**All adults are over the age of 18**
Taking a deep breath before she rang the doorbell, she got out her compact mirror and had one last look before she took the plunge.
Her trademark red lip and classic flick was staring back at her. It complemented her dark hair and voluptuous figure.
She was wearing a 50s style dress that was nipped in at the waist, emphasising her J cup tits of which her cleavage was proudly on display.
In messages, she had told them she looked like a "1950s housewife" and dressed like one too.
It was the first time she had ever done something like this and during their conversations, her pussy was constantly dripping wet without ever even having seen a photo of them.
She rang the doorbell and waited for what felt like an eternity. Perhaps this was part of the game.
Around ten minutes later, a woman came to the door. She was of average weight, with curves in the right places.
"You must be Freya," she said, opening the door and inviting her inside.
"I am indeed. And you must be Constance."
Constance was in her early fifties but you wouldn't think it from looking at her. She had brown hair and dark brown eyes with full lips. Freya reckoned Constance was around a G cup. While her breasts were large, it would be difficult to beat Freya's.
She was pleasantly surprised by Constance. She was wearing a simple navy tunic with lace up shoes and a slight heel. Her dark hair was scraped back into a severe bun, giving the appearance of a strict head teacher.
"Let me fix you a drink. My husband will be down soon."
Freya nodded nervously.
"Now Freya, we have spoken a lot online over the last few weeks so I feel we know each other very well. But I must say, I was quite surprised when I saw you on the doorstep."
"In a good way or bad way?" Freya asked.
"Oh most definitely in a good way." Constance said, eyeing Freya up with an almost evil glint in her eyes.
Her phone vibrated on the kitchen counter. She picked it up, looked at it and nodded, putting the phone back in her pocket.
"Come, and I will show you the living room."
Freya followed Constance to the lounge and was invited to sit on a dining seat, rather than a sofa or armchair.
"I wouldn't want to risk you spilling red wine on our cream sofa," Constance said.
They began chatting and sipping their wine, when Freya heard footsteps approaching behind her.
"Constance," the voice said, calmly, but sternly.
"You didn't tell me she was fat." He said. But he didn't exactly sound disappointed.
Freya was shocked to hear the word used so freely by others to describe her. It wasn't considered polite to describe people as fat, even if, and certainly in Freya's case, that was true.
And while she wouldn't be in any documentaries any time soon, she knew she definitely slotted into the category of BBW. That is, after all, what the older couple had advertised for initially.
She had told them she had very few limits and would be open to most scenarios except any that involved needles, poo, puke, children or animals.
The couple had seemed quite delighted by this and invited her over for the evening to meet them.
Constance looked at Freya with a hard stare, like she was disgusted.
"No I wasn't expecting a fat bitch like this either. Let's hope she will be able to keep up with us."
The husband entered the room.
He still had hair, tinged with grey but otherwise dark. He was tall and bulky, but not fat. His arms were strong and he was dressed in a slim fitting white shirt, dark blue jeans and brown shoes.
He sat on the sofa next to his wife.
"We have a lot planned for you, Freya. You've told us you don't have any limits, which we are willing to take full advantage of but if, for any reason, you think something has gone too far, you need only say the word popsicle and we will stop immediately." He took a sip of his claret and Constance continued.
"We read a lot of your profile and saw you were into some of this kind of thing which is why we thought you would be perfect for us.
"My husband's name is Charles but you will refer to him as Master. You will call me 'Miss Constance'. Is that understood?"
"Yes master, yes Miss Constance." Freya replied.
"Good girl, you're already getting the hang of this." Charles said, patting her on the belly.
