CHAPTER 2
Amber jolted awake, her eyes snapping open. The room was cold, dim with early morning light and tainted green from the glow of the digital clock radio on the table. The rubber snout was still tied around her face, the tie loosened but not removed. Her cheeks were stiff with salty, dry tears and her body sticky with a mix of sweat and the residue of her orgasm. She realized with a start that she had fallen asleep on the floor of her trailer, surrounded by sticky dollar bills.
Her heart was racing as she tore the snout off her face and threw it across the room. The sound of it hitting the wall was like a gunshot in the quiet trailer. She sat there, breathing heavily, her heavy breasts straining at the fabric of her bra with effort. Guilt washed over her, a cold, suffocating wave that made her want to retch. How could she have let herself succumb to the very thing that had broken her so many years ago? The memories of the night before were a sick blur of pleasure and pain. The taste of the sticky bills still lingered in her mouth and she felt the bruise that had formed around her neck from choking herself with the tie.
With trembling hands, Amber untied the knot of the tie and let it fall to the floor. She rubbed a hand across her bruised throat and slowly climbed onto her knees before standing. She couldn't bear to look at herself. She felt dirty and stumbled into the shower, stripping off her underwear. The water was hot, almost scalding, but it didn't burn away the sticky film of humiliation that clung to her skin. She scrubbed herself furiously, the scent of soap mixing with the faint hint of Jarod's cologne. She tried to drown out the sound of the rain with the hiss of the shower, but the drops on the windowpane taunted her, a reminder of the night she had just relived.
Amber poured a thick pool of shampoo into her open palm. The soap was pearlescent, thick and viscous. She stared down at the reservoir in her hand for a moment. It looked so much like...
Slowly amber lowered her tongue and tasted the soap. She spat, coughing and retching at the acrid taste. However, the consistency was right. She started to wash her hair but as she did she could not help but remember the taste and feel of it on her tongue. So much and so thick. Her hands began to roam away from her hair and across her plump body, squeezing her breasts and pudgy belly. It had been so long since she had done this. So long since she had succumbed to the memories of humiliation and violation and...yes...pleasure. She had always been self-conscious about her weight, the only time she felt happy about it was in her memories...in the barn...that night...surrounded by Jarod and his friends as they gave her a different kind of shower...
Amber squeezed her eyes shit and scrubbed her body harder. She washed the sticky residue from her body, her mind replayed the moments from the diner, the way Jarod's eyes had lingered on her curves, the way his voice had dripped with both scorn and desire. Why did she want that again? Why did she want more? Was it possible that he had found her attractive? Or was it all just a twisted game to him, a way to keep her in her place? She had thought she had moved on from the pain of high school, had found a place where she belonged. But here she was, back in the role of "Piggy," the butt of their jokes once again. The water grew colder as she stood there, lost in thought, the steam dissipating into the air like her dignity.
Finally, Amber turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, her nipples and skin pebbling from the cold. She wrapped herself in a towel, the fabric sticking to her skin as she moved. She looked around the small, cramped bathroom, the peeling wallpaper and chipped tiles a stark reminder of her current reality. Her nipples were hard and sensitive, pointing out from her large, heavy breasts like tiny pebbles, begging to be touched. Despite the cold, she felt a warmth spread from her core, her pussy swollen and aching. She reached up and pinched one of her nipples, gasping at the sensation that shot through her body. It was as if the memories of the night had rekindled a fire that she had long ago allowed to die down to embers. The feeling was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Amber knew she had to get dressed and go to work, had to go back to the diner and face the world with a smile on her face. But the thoughts of Jarod, Allen, Tommy, and TJ lingered like a bad aftertaste. The way they had looked at her, the things they had said...it had all brought back the feeling of being an object for their amusement. Yet, deep down, there was a part of her that craved that attention, that craved the power that came with being desired. Deep down, she hoped they would be there for breakfast.
And besides, the tip was good, even if it was sticky.
Amber dressed carefully that morning. The bra she chose was thick and unyielding, pushing her breasts up and out from beneath like two proud hills, yet topped with sheer lace. She stepped into it, feeling the fabric embrace her curves like a lover's arms. She paused at the open dresser drawer, her hands hovering over the silken pile of thongs and panties. With a slow, premeditated movement, she slid the drawer shut, foregoing any underwear. With a heavy sigh, she pulled out her favorite pink dress from her closet. It was tight in all the right places, showing off the curves that she had once hidden under baggy clothes. The fabric clung to her soft skin as she slipped it over her head, the material whispering sordid promises in her ears. It was a declaration to herself, to them, that she was more than just "Piggy." She was Amber, a woman with desires and strength.
The dress hugged her body like a second skin. She could feel the coolness of the air against her bare pussy, the slight breeze a teasing kiss against her sensitized folds. As she zipped it up, she noticed the way the material hugged the curves of her hips, the fabric straining slightly where it met the swell of her ass. The neckline was low, revealing the tops of her breasts and the slightest hint of her lacy bra.
Amber took a deep breath, her heart racing. She knew that she always got better tips when she wore this dress. It was something about the way it made her feel. The men at the diner had always noticed her in it, their eyes lingering a little longer, their smiles a little broader. It was a power she had discovered by accident, a side effect of their objectification that she had learned to harness. Her breasts, once a source of self-consciousness in middle school, had become her weapon of choice. With each step she took, they bounced slightly, drawing the gaze of every man in the room. It was a dance, a silent flirtation that played out every night. She had learned to make it look natural, the way her breasts would brush against a hand or shoulder as she leaned over the counter, the way she would arch her back just so when bending down to pick up a dropped napkin. It was all part of the performance, the art of the tease. She clipped a long chain necklace around her neck to distract from the slight bruises and ticked the medallion between her heavy tits. With a self satisfied look in the mirror and a nod of approval she knew would come from no one else, Amber was ready for work.
The rain had stopped, leaving behind a damp chill that clung to the air. The world outside her trailer was a canvas of greens and grays, the streets shimmering with the remnants of the storm. The diner loomed in the distance, a beacon of neon in the early morning light.
Amber walked with purpose, her rain jacket's hood framing her face in shadows. Her heart was a drum in her chest, each beat echoing the words she had whispered to herself: "You are more than just Piggy." As she approached the diner, she could feel the anticipation building, the ghosts of her past whispering in her ear. But she was ready to face them.
