Black Woman's Trust
Della lost in the ecstasy of being a meal for someone else; she began to expand in Keyhole's belly, becoming a full sow within moments.
"*Urp* Shit, this is bad. I didn't mean to swallow her in the first place, and now she's going to split me open...
Keyhole's belly was holding the full-grown, over three-hundred-pound sow that was Della. Her chocolate flesh stretched with angry marks as her insides struggled to accommodate the weight of her hefty meal. The super-obese ebony woman could only let out flustered moans and pants as her chubby form was hit with an erotic wave of nostalgia due to her now swollen position. Under this immense pressure, any ordinary woman would have split open much like an overripe grape.
"I haven't been this distended since my pregnancy," Keyhole huffed, her body mass filling the basin of the tub.
Meanwhile, within Keyhole, Della was in a state of euphoria.
'I-I can't believe it I'm someone's fat pork dinner a beast raised, fattened, and marketed for consumption has met her destined end. Key-Key's lovely body will break down this overripe body and use me in her fat reserves. I'm sorry, Willy, my dear wife, but this has been a dream of mine since I was small, to grow sloppy, fat, and be nothing more than a meal that will become fat to hang from the seductive reserves of another maiden. I'm sorry that maiden could not be you, my love, but you'll find someone else. Maybe someone more worthy of your love as I, I cannot beat this lust of being consumed.'
With that, Della fell asleep open and willing to be eaten up by Keyhole's inner juices. As she slipped into sleep, Della had what she considered her final thoughts.
'I hope when I expire in these lovely bowls that I don't pass on but that my essence lines the meat of Key-Key therefore when she too reaches her dream and is a fat mare on a farm somewhere, I can expand and contract with her breeding uses until she to expires.'
Dizzy with lust Keyhole, shook her head; knowing what she had done, she put her fingers in her mouth in a panic, becoming a revolver in the shower freeing the fat sow from the confines of her gut. Minutes passed, and Della shifted back into her human state in her unconsciousness. Now in the basin of the tub with the shower looming overhead was an obese Japanese woman, her long purple hair handing over her face; and curling over her ample bosom like a perverted octopus as the water rain on her head running in a stream down her doughy body, pooling in pockets made by overlapping fat. Between this large woman's legs laid a revolver, empty of contents as the water bounced off of the woman's body and onto it, the moisture beading on its metallic surface.
***
Meanwhile, at Thiccums' place of work which was an office building around the Mid-Town of Hearts, work was being done, and things were rather quiet.
Thiccums typing away at her desk, saved all the drop-off point locations to her phone for further use.
"Ah, okay, there we went and managed to get all of those inventory reports done as well." Thiccums mused to herself.
A knock then drew the vanity Miblin's attention at her office door.
"Come in!" Thiccums replied in her cold, deep voice; that would be better coming from a more statuesque woman of strength than a woman that is more of a plush love doll. Whose sole purpose would be, if under different circumstances, a bed companion--using her humongous posterior as a lewd pillow. Some master or mistress would love to rest their head on after the day had concluded. In truth, much like her teammate Popster, this mature voice was a developed falsetto. This voice produced a contrast, would unnerve most people into showing Thiccums respect. Unexpecting such a confident voice to come from Miblin. Her normal speaking voice is no different than what one would expect to come out of the plump lips of a Miblin. A high-pitched babyish tone would portray to the listener that the one speaking is naïve and instead airheaded. Though being a Miblin of the 'Vanity' variety has given Thiccums's normal speaking voice an almost disarming tone of submissiveness; sounding as if every and any inquiry she utters is an innocent invitation peppered in sultry; to use her body as a tool of sexual relief.
Who entered was a tigress Zoomen, though what one might think of a tigress didn't apply to this woman. She was petite and taller than Thiccums making her more of a tiger plush of a tigress than an anthropomorphic hunter. If not her stature, her proportions reflected that she was no more suited for hunting than a pop gun to be considered a proper self-defense weapon. She was, in every sense of the term, a short stack.
"Hey 'T wanna go to lunch?" she squeaked, her voice sounding both meek and squeaky.
Thiccums nodded, answering as she scooted her plush body from the comfort of her office chair, "Yes, I would thank you for the invitation, Tiggzia."
***
Thiccums and Tiggzia made their way from the office to the noodle shop across the street.
"So, big boss lady, how is working treating you?" Tiggzia asked, brushing her silver hair behind her round bestial ear, tapping the hoop earring that hung from a roosting puncture in her flesh.
"Pretty good; shipments are coming and going as usual, except for those few hits that we suffered last week," Thiccums said, keeping a professional tone as she approached the door of the noodle restaurant.
The establishment's name was "The Jade Bowl," the sign out front depicting an overstuffed Miblin inside a decorative jade bowl. The Bowl in question was empty, implying that the Miblin in the Bowl had eaten all of its contents, which was evident by her engorged belly begging to pop at any moment. The Miblin woman's expression while resting in said Bowl was one of comedic happenstance. It was as if she was suggesting with her shoulders shrugging and her arms bent, palms flat facing away from her on either side, that she ate all the delicious contents meant for the viewer. However, it was to be an invitation to invite a patron inside. That they too could be in a similar state to the Miblin on the sign, full and satisfied.
Thiccums sneered to herself as these types of signs were on multiple establishments around the country as a means of using the submissive and cutest nature of Miblins to the advantage of men and women to line their pockets. It sickened her, but this was the way of the world; all she could do was her small part in making it a fairer place for people like her by stopping what the law deemed illegal.
While standing on the tips of her toes in her little black flats, Thiccums reached for the door handle and pulled open the glass restaurant door for her co-worker.
"Oh, I could have gotten the door, boss; you didn't need to strain yourself. Tiggzia pouted as she helped hold the door to relieve her superior of the burden.
"No, it's no trouble, but thank you for helping me," Thiccums replied, making sure her voice didn't fall into the realm of a cutesy helpless baby when she opened her mouth to speak.
The décor inside the restaurant had a color scheme of green and gold. The white walls were divided halfway down to where the wall would meet the floor in a stylish pale jade finish. The floor was a rich dark wood, well swept and polished; a separation of gold trim divided the jade of the wall from the dark wood floor, which encased the entirety of the establishment leading to the kitchen. Booths, dark wood at their base with cushioned faux green leather upholstery lined the established in pairs. Each couple was estranged by a dark wood dining table, with a golden emblematic graving of the restaurant's logo at its center.
Thiccums and Tiggzia were amongst several other people who too decided to dine here at this luncheon hour; most of the men in the area came for the restaurant's excellent food and service. Others come for the Miblin waitresses who dress in a jade green tight, form-fitting cheongsam with cut-out slits up the sides to accommodate the broad hips that Miblins are for having. Along with the dress, all the women serving wore black pantyhose and white flat shoes. The body shape of the serving staff was very diverse, though it is evident that all the uniforms that these women wore were a size or two, too small for their bodies, in terms of personal effects. However, individuality showed through once more. All the women were allowed to style their hair in any way they wanted.
Thiccums and Tiggiza took a seat near the building's western side window, and a peppy waitress met them.
