STRANDED
CO-AUTHORED BY
MATT L. & HER REVENGE
PART ONE
The silver Mustang veered off the highway and traveled down a whirling road that eventually lead to a gravel path. Interlocking branches from the tall trees obscuring the moon, overgrown shrubbery in patches bordering the wiry trail.
The driver was a professional looking mature woman, auburn hair, delicate features and attired in a dark raincoat over her spiffy tailored treads. The passenger, seated next to the driver, was a cute college age female, long blond hair rolling over her shoulders, causally garbed in an inexpensive gray T-shirt sporting her college emblem and natty navy blue sweats.
Rhonda Steele, not yet forty was a dynamic - intelligent - astute professor of law who had just picked up her daughter, Brooke, from a certain Ivy League school.
The premise of this excursion, after picking up Brooke from an opposing school rather than the university where she held tenure, was a modest vacation before heading back to their exclusive Manhattan apartment.
Brooke was dynamic in her own right and rather knowledgeable in her own interests, wasn’t so fond of higher education and had a different set of goals than what her mother desired.
Thus the motive for the trip, besides some upscale bits of pleasure, was too mend a scratchy patch that separated them and too coerce Brooke into exploring a captivating field for later employment.
Brooke appeared bored, her pretty face dampen with a brazen hue of resentment. She would have rather flown to the lavish resort rather than drive there with her overbearing mother.
“You haven’t said anything in 15-minutes, pumpkin, what’s on your mind?” Rhonda asked.
Her tone of voice free of emotion, like fingers against the chalk board, it irked Brooke’s nerves.
“Do you know where we are?” Brooke softly questioned.
Rhonda’s eyes peering forward, the headlights revealing nothing but the night.
“Somehow I took a wrong turn but I’ll get us back on the highway, have no doubt.”
Brooke wrangled a strand of a beauteous blond hair, gazing out of her side window, she languorously droned, “Maybe we should stop somewhere for the night, we don’t have to make it to the resort tonight.”
Rhonda yanked up her chin, “And where do you suppose we stay? There’s nothing worth our wages to spend the night.”
Brooke clearly understood what her mother meant; People of their social rank never stay at anything less than five star hotels. Nothing out here in no mans land would meet their requirements.
Brooke rigidity coughed, “Can’t we do without the pomp and circumstance while we’re on vacation? I get enough of it at home.”
Rhonda sighed, “Really? Haven’t I told you countless times that people of our pedigree never settle for anything less than the best. And furthermore……….”
Rhonda rifled through the same lecture that Brooke was quite familiar with. All about living up to specific standards and class distinction. That their distinguished status demands appropriate conduct and etiquette.
Brooke interrupted her mother halfway through her stale speech, “All I’m saying is, can’t we just behave like ordinary people and just have fun.”
“We can participate in plenty of fun without behaving like those regular nine to five working class people.
Remember, we’re of a privileged circle.”
“How can I possibly forget, you’re always reminding me”, Brooke squawked.
The inauspicious path over the unfamiliar terrain, without markers of any kind for direction, weighed heavily on Rhonda’s mind. Rhonda’s arrogant nature prevented her from telling Brooke they were lost, and the atypical feeling of frustration needed an outlet. Nitpicking on Brooke was the required refuge for her nerves.
“You could have worn something a little more fashionable. This resort is very exclusive.”
Brooke fleetingly gazed over her stylish manicured nails, “Oh please, it’s the middle of the night, we’re on some deserted road, we’re not going to run into the Vanderbilt’s or the Thoreau’s.”
“I don’t appreciate your attitude, Brooke”, Rhonda stringently retorted. “You know very well that I meant for our arrival at the resort.”
Another lecture ensued.
“We mustn’t neglect our appearance, you’ll never know who we may run into. In your case, it could be a worthwhile young man but it’s highly doubtful he’ll give you a second glance while dressed like an uneducated hillbilly. I haven‘t a notion why such a physically appealing young woman like yourself would decide too downgrade her appearance……”
“I dress for whatever circumstances dictate the occasion, out on the road I prefer comfort against elegance”, Brooke candidly interjected her opinion. “You needn’t always look so extravagant, mom, we’re not having dinner at the Ritz or going dancing.”
Rhonda’s wintry expression was replaced by a much more delightful aura and she conceited chimed, “I presume you just gave me a compliment, and I readily accept it. I’ll be forty in a couple of years and I’m in better shape than many girls half my age, including a few of your friends.”
The car sped over a rickety bridge, the iron girders coated in rust, a whirling mist heaving from the stream below. Whilst in giddy chatter, Rhonda failed too see the sign;
UNINCORPORATED HUNTSVILLE 5 MILES.
“You do have the right too brag mom”, Brooke chirped, “Very few females your age are as physically fit.”
Rhonda conceded in agreement, though her perceptive wit stirred her curiosity.
“Why is Brooke being so nice?”
Brooke’s sugary comments concerning her mother’s youthful beauty concluded with an audacious remark about herself, “It’s very beneficial that I have your genes, think of the boon it’ll grant my goals.”
Rhonda nodded, realizing without a doubt what was behind the flattery.
“Spill it”, Rhonda firmly bellowed, “What’s on your mind!”
Brooke vigorously spoke with her hands while excitedly stating, “Let me finish before you interrupt, alright! You know all about my grades, I admit they could be better but college isn’t so inviting at the moment. You Remember Sharon Pourish, she’s going to France next month for a fashion show, I was hoping you’d see too it that I tag along, I’d like too try it, modeling, you know?”
Rhonda didn’t even glimpse over at Brooke as she disparaging bickered, “I have provided you with the means to advance in a promising career and you want to become a fashion model. Are you aware that the odds of any real success in modeling is against you.”
Brooke kept the lid on her temper and serenely conducted her opinion, “I know but I have inherited your looks, intelligence and business sass. I’d easily mow over the competition.”
“I’d rather see you become a fat and barefoot housewife_.”
Brooke uncomfortably snapped, “Hey, that ain’t nice!”
Finally but fleetingly, Rhonda glanced over her daughter with a bold sneer.
“You seem to be carrying a little extra weight, pumpkin, how can you possibly achieve any success as a model if you can’t control your appetite.”
Brooke folded her arms over her shapely breasts and pouted, “So I gained almost twenty-pounds after I started college, I lost most of it.”
Brooke felt abnormally embarrassed as her mother blissfully conveyed, “You were a little chunky growing up, I honestly thought you’d be wearing double digit clothing before you were out of high school.”
“Does it bother you that I didn’t become a fatty?” Brooke angrily screeched, “I hope you’re not too disappointed.”
“Of course not”, Rhonda superficially replied, “Having a fat daughter would only encourage country club gossip, I’d be maliciously ridiculed.”
“Always thinking of yourself, mom”, Brooke acidly grumbled.
Rhonda sighed, though she wouldn’t admit it, Brooke was correct. Well partially.
Rhonda felt conflicted, at one end of the spectrum, having an overweight daughter would be an embarrassment in regards too her high society friends. However, it would produce an advantage in male attention. Rhonda clandestinely pondered, “A modestly well-fed version of Brooke wouldn’t be so awful.”
Silence corrupted the ride for a fair amount of the journey, the long stretch of the road was steep in darkness and Rhonda capitulated to herself, “We’re lost.”
An impoverished trailer court on one side of the grungy road, a seedy looking bowling alley on the opposite side. Still the Mustang plowed away, taking a few turns until reaching a run down looking motel aligned with a small greasy spoon diner.
Rhonda pulled off to the side of the road and addressed her daughter, “I need a cup of coffee to get my head back in gear and ask for directions.”
Brooke turned to her mother and smugly replied, “All those years of college and the renowned lawyer gets lost.”
“Put that attitude on hold”, Rhonda insolently gaped at Brooke; “You think that diner would be hospitable enough to go in?”
Brooke yanked her head toward the diner, her dazzling blond mane slithering over her shoulders, “We eat all the time at those types of places, it ain’t so unpleasant.”
Rhonda exhaled, “Please refrain from using words like ain’t, you’re a refine young woman.”
“Another lecture won’t get us out of hillbilly country, so lay off me”, Brooke condescendingly warbled.
Rhonda realized another argument wouldn’t be prudent, though as she unbuckled her safety belt, she strictly glimpsed Brooke’s appearance, “Yes Pumpkin, I can tell, you frequent these types of establishments often.”
“Ha-ha”, Brooke sarcastically uttered, “I imagine if you inherited your mom’s big butt, you’d wouldn’t be so vain.”
The females piled out of the Mustang and advanced toward the slipshod looking eatery.
‘STOP-INN’, that’s what the sigh read in big black letters over a gray and white backdrop.
The building looked as if it been released from a time warp, emanating a 1920’s era ambience with it’s bowed archway and conventionally modest size windows. The screen door was unusually wide with a metal trim which the top portion was heavily damaged.
Brooke cautioned her mother before entering, “Don’t put on any airs here, this isn’t Manhattan.”
Rhonda’s superior minded attitude couldn’t be quelled and she made it known, “I won’t appease these people by masquerading my class.”
Rhonda advanced into the diner, her gait and posture reflecting her arrogant disposition, Brooke trailing behind.
The diner’s interior appeared comfortable enough if not dated; spacious with a pair of dining rooms and a wrap around counter surrounding the kitchen. The walls were an abandon shade of white, grimy gray and black tile covering the floor while the aroma of coffee scented the air.
The patrons were of a contrasting branch of society that Rhonda, and too some degree, Brooke ignored. Looking down and out in hand me down clothes and uncomplicated expressions.
Off to the side, seated alone sat a heavyset older woman drinking what appeared to be tea while playing solitaire with a scruffy deck of cards. Her black hair interweaved with strands of silver was set in an old fashion bun style that amplified the roundness of her pudgy face that supported an acute red hue.
Her virtually obese body, genuinely apple shape in dimensions, was garbed in a multicolored sleeveless gown that resembled a garment burrowed from a gypsy.
“Strangers”, she eccentrically hummed, “Take a seat and make yourself at home. Somebody will wait on you.”
“If that’s possible”, Rhonda critically replied as she gazed over the group of females seated at a table adjacent to the counter.
Gaudily attired and within Rhonda’s age, their bimbo-speak chirping revealing their lack of education.
“I’m Gretel”, the rotund woman gladly introduced herself, her eyes zeroing in on the privileged females, dissecting their attitude and behavior by the manner in which they stood and the derisive look in their eyes.
“You’re mother and daughter, though more often than not, are mistaken for sisters”, Gretel coolly calculated.
Rhonda was one that swooned at compliments and she elegantly smiled, “That’s very observant, yes. People do indeed mistake Brooke and I as sisters.”
Brooke leaned into her mom, casting a rude expression upon Gretel, “Let’s get a table, alright?”
Rhonda swerved toward her daughter, “Just a minute_.”
Brooke flung her hands over her hips and gawked at her mother who continued her chat with Gretel, “We’re kind of lost_.”
“Kind of?” Brooke cantankerously interrupted her mom.
Rhonda smiled while apologizing for Brooke’s poor manners, “Please pardon my daughter’s behavior, she should know better than to interrupt.”
Gretel directed her attention to Brooke, her eyes brazenly focusing upon her slender figure.
Brooke emitted a delicate sigh, goose bumps over her skin coinciding with a chilly sensation.
Gretel rotated her face toward Rhonda and cordially addressed her, “Your daughter doesn’t mean no harm, she’s just a little bit edgy coz she’s hungry.”
“That makes sense”, Rhonda smirked.
Brooke was momentarily caught in a vacuum, Rhonda’s firm voice returning her to consciousness, “Find us a table and I’ll be right there.”
Rhonda glimpsed over at the trashy clad females and instructed Brooke, “A distance away from those trailer park women.”
Brooke nodded and strolled toward a table, the snap in her gait uncharacteristically fatigued.
“Anyway Gretel”, Rhonda began the conversation, “We’re on our way to this resort that’s a few miles from Capital City, and I must have taken a wrong turn. Where exactly are we?”
STRANDED By Matt L. & Her Revenge
Moderator: Matt L.
STRANDED By Matt L. & Her Revenge
by Matt L. » Mon Nov 12, 2012 8:08 pm
- Matt L.
- Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 1900
- Joined: Fri May 25, 2012 3:01 pm
Re: STRANDED By Matt L. & Her Revenge
by Matt L. » Tue Nov 13, 2012 11:24 am
Gretel explicitly conveyed, “This place is forgotten territory, most folks round here ain’t worked in sometime, and them that do, don’t make much of a wage. That little motel next door, those ain’t visitors holed up there, that’s the home of people who have lost just about everything. I suppose legally it’s called Huntsville, but we might as well not be on the map.”
Rhonda understood she was in the vicinity of the economically insolvent and disadvantaged. Naturally this made her feel quite uncomfortable, especially after Gretel pointed out;
“You’re not in Manhattan anymore, so don’t expect room service.”
Rhonda whirled at her waist, “Yes, so I see. Would you know how we might get back on the highway?”
Gretel folded her hands over her big flourishing belly, “Why not join your daughter and have a nice meal, we can finish our talk later.”
Lines formed in Rhonda’s brow, “Pardon me but what difference does it make if you tell me now or later?”
Gretel peered directly into Rhonda’s eyes, “Sit down and have a nice meal and then we’ll talk some more.”
Rhonda felt obligated too agree and simply nodded before rejoining Brooke at the table she selected.
Rhonda removed her raincoat, thus revealing her high-priced lavender colored blazer with matching skirt that emphasized her hourglass figure. Sliding unto the standard diner style chair, Rhonda glimpsed over the patrons and shoddy backdrop of establishment, “I’ve never been to anything vaguely like this, though I suppose you’re accustomed too these places.”
Brooke dropped her head, glassy eyed and with a nomadic expression, she blinked several times before responding, “Yeah, while partying….I mean studying, we occasionally frequent this diner near school.”
Rhonda lackadaisically advised Brooke, “I wouldn’t make a habit of consuming diner food, especially if you’d like to model. It’d expand your waistline and contaminate your overall appearance.”
However, another thought surfaced in Rhonda’s mind, and she wasn’t at all ashamed, “That’s right, Brooke. Continue eating diner food slop and while I’m out on the arm of some attractive gentleman, you’ll be home watching TV with the servants.”
Brooke held the menu to her breasts, delighted at the notion that her mom seemed too be in agreement about her modeling career.
“You’ll send me to me to France?” Brooke smiled, “I’ll pay for the air fare, just help me with the lodging.”
Rhonda didn’t really think Brooke had any real chance in a modeling career but instead of igniting another quarrel, simply appeased her daughter with a saccharine, “Let’s find our way back to the highway, alright. We’ll have plenty of time to discuss France and modeling when we’re at the resort.”
“Yeah!” Brooke chirped. “Aren’t you going to order anything?”
Rhonda glimpsed over a few of the patrons, many of them were quite overweight and even the tawdry looking chicks could have used some help with weight management. “Just coffee for me_.”
With a sly grin, Rhonda continued, “But you go right ahead, pumpkin. Order whatever you like.”
Brooke squinted at her mom, “You’re not being frivolous?”
“Why should I”, Rhonda smoothly explained, “You’re the one who suggested we act like ordinary people, so ignore your diet and eat up. Nonetheless, this is a vacation; you can resume a healthy menu when we’re back in Manhattan.”
“In that case….” Brooke grinned, “I know exactly what I want.”
The waitress was a pretty young woman, her curly brownish-blond hair outlining her chubby features and her pleasingly plump figure attired in an overly worn pale green uniform.
She introduced herself as Bertha and openly addressed the females with a friendly smile, “Figure out what’s you’re going to have?”
Brooke had no uncertainties concerning her order; Chicken fried steak sandwich, mashed potatoes with onion rings and a large cola.”
“I’ll just have coffee”, Rhonda patronizingly told the waitress.
The waitress spoke in an unrefined drone, “Be right back.”
Once the waitress returned with the drinks, she strived for a little small talk;
“What ya girls doing round here? On vacation or visiting? “However, she could tell the upper crust females weren’t interested in mindless chit chat by their condescending attitude.
“We’re off to a rather restricted health spa and resort”, Brooke smugly bragged.
“No doubt your occupation is challenging enough, we wouldn’t want too keep you from the other customers”, Rhonda pompously wrote her off.
The waitress acknowledged their dismissive attitude, “Sure, be back when your order is ready”, and wandered back to her station.
The waitress poured herself a cup of black of coffee and was about to light a cigarette when Gretel waved her over.
Strolling over to Gretel, the waitress amicably inquired, “Kin I get ya something?”
Gretel liberally questioned her, “Those Manhattan women, making you feel all uncomfortable?”
The waitress wrapped her arm around her doughy waist and pulled back her head, “Some folks are convinced they better than us. But damn, take around their expensive clothes and important careers and they be no different than us.”
“I’d say”, Gretel replied as she lowered her eyebrows. “They are that. Bring the flossy older babe a slice of cranberry pie with some ice cream. Say it’s on the house but bring me the check.”
The waitress replied with a burnt expression, “Damn, why you wanna do that? She won’t appreciate it.”
“I agree with ya, Bertha”, Gretel grinned at the waitress, “Though, as you said, take away their expensive clothes and important careers and they’ll be just like us.”
Bertha puffed up her cheeks, “Sure Gretel, I’ll get her the pie and ice cream.”
………………………………................................................
A few minutes later Bertha brought over the order, naturally Rhonda was surprised by the heaping chunk of pie and double scoops of vanilla ice cream.
“I didn’t order any food”, Rhonda told Bertha.
Bertha nodded, “I know but you look rather exhausted. I thought this might perk you up a bit. Anyhow, there’s no charge, so it’ll be extra tasty.”
Rhonda replied with an aloof expression, “I’m not really too sure….”
Brooke spoke over her mother while nibbling on an onion ring, “Oh mother, a little sugar won‘t do you any harm.”
Rhonda half-smiled, “Well, it does look appetizing, but I want you to share it with me.”
Brooke giggled, “I may just want to order my own!”
“That’s totally cool!” Bertha peeped, “I’ll stop by in a few and I’ll see if you want some, alright?”
Brooke nodded as she sampled the chicken fried steak sandwich, “Yeah…”
Rhonda softly chided Brooke once Bertha resumed waiting on other customers.
“Really? Talking while chewing.”
Brooke fluttered her eyes, “Now mom, remember were on vacation, let’s lose the etiquette and pretend we’re normal people.”
Rhonda sipped her coffee then began nibbling on the dessert, “Normal.”
“Normal”, Rhonda repeated as she looked over the patrons and initiated a bout of unfavorable criticism. Denoting their physical appearances and attire, the uneducated impression broadcast in their eyes and the irresponsible method that dictated their lives.
Brooke chimed in, adding her uncompromising opinion, writing them all off as underachievers, a class of socially inept people of whom she wouldn’t want to associate with.
“There’s a typical domestic gal”, Brooke describing an overweight gal in her mid-twenties clad in a discolored housedress. She was seated at the counter talking to a couple of grungy older guys.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she was living on public aid and not at all ashamed.”
The malarkey continued, Rhonda expressing her opinion on the underdressed gals at the table further in back. Calling them trollops and mentioning their tacky clothes and overabundance of cosmetics.
…………………..
Gretel silently gazed at the mother and daughter, focusing on their personalities and manipulating their inhabitations.
………………………………............
As the Manhattan females criticized the patrons and staff, it was evident the rate in which they fed swiftly increased while their behavior acquired an intoxicated quality.
Criticizing other people wasn’t so out of the ordinary, even back in Manhattan the duo often entertained themselves with such gibberish.
A middle aged couple who Rhonda suggested were a day late and a dollar short in terms of personnel hygiene and education, a couple of twenty-something gals in garments meant for physically fit members of their gender. And it went…..
A heavyset young man walked through the kitchen door. Curly black hair, modestly handsome through pudgy features, his faded orange T-shirt corrupted with grease while his big belly dipped over his ragged blue jeans.
“I finished fixing the dish washer”, He told a waitress with a booming if not unrefined voice.
“There’s one for you!”, Rhonda peeped to her daughter, “A fine example of what this community calls a man.”
Brooke was about to scornfully snip at his scruffy appearance but a surprisingly blip of a renegade neutron altered her cognitive thought, “He kind of resembles Baxter Roan.”
Rhonda deeply scrutinized the young man’s facial structure, “Yes, he does. Especially since Baxter let himself get fat.”
Brooke’s posture plunged a tinge downward, “I thought Baxter looked kinda of cute with the extra weight.”
Rhonda scowled at Brooke, “You’re kidding? After Baxter got heavy, he looked like a stupid bartender.”
Brooke sighed, “Nah, I didn’t think so. Especially with his pudgy belly, I felt so….”
Rhonda blinked, “If you like fat guys, there’s your chance.”
Brooke regained her wits, “Oh mom, what I meant was, I thought Baxter still looked attractive despite being pudgy, I don’t like fat guys.”
While Rhonda softly reprimanded Brooke about the importance of dating men compatible to her appearance, Brooke couldn’t deny, she found something peculiarly appealing about men with stout bellies.
Gretel focused attentively on the Manhattan females, privy through scanning their minds, the knowledge was used as putty in her hands. Brooke recognized that such a scalawag couldn’t afford her; he was nothing but a bottom feeder where she was concerned. However, the strangest vibes maneuvered through her, revving up a modest attraction.
Rhonda finished her sugary snack, placing her hand over her tummy; she slid downward in her chair, her spine taking on a rubbery appearance. Emitting a soft sigh, Rhonda faintly smirked, envisioning her daughter courting the pudgy young man. “Dating him would take her down a peg or two”, Rhonda presumed, “No expensive dresses for her, no doubt Brooke’s weight would escalate and….”
Before Rhonda finished her thought, the waitress happened by.
“Anything else?” Bertha gleefully asked.
Rhonda squinted, “Just more coffee.”
Brooke took her eyes off the chunky young man and squeaked, “You think I could have dessert?”
Rhonda cleared her throat, rolling her tongue over her lips; she unequivocally invited Brooke to engage in the pie and ice cream.
“Maybe I’ll have another slice too”, Rhonda added.
……………….
The desserts were brought and the females nibbled; Rhonda feeling abnormally fatigued while Brooke idly gawked over at the stout young man who was now seated at the counter, slurping away a plate of scrabble eggs with beans.
It wasn’t so long before the females had finished their snack and paid their bill.
“We still have to drive the better part of the night”, Rhonda told Brooke.
Brooke insisted they spend the night and make tracks to the resort at first light. After all, a motel was annex to the diner.
“Those dumpy apartments are probably invested with roaches”, Rhonda retorted as they strolled outside.
Once in the car, the enterprise was put on hold, Rhonda’s mustang wouldn’t start.
Gretel approached the ladies while still outside, her wobbling gait never interfering with her dominant character, “I’ll see if Vance can see about getting your car started.”
Vance was the chubby young man whom Rhonda had derided and that Brooke found strangely appealing,
Once Vance made it outside, Gretel made introductions and he willingly checked out the car.
“Why not join me inside and have another cup of coffee”, Gretel advised Rhonda, “This might take a spell.”
Rhonda was originally opposed too the idea but the brimming aspect of Gretel’s eyes convinced her otherwise.
However, before Rhonda joined Gretel, she took Brooke aside and quietly told her, “Remain here and keep that fat hillbilly company, I don’t want him going through our luggage.”
Brooke nodded, a warmness seeping through her body as she momentarily gazed over Vance.
“Mother, he might be terribly oafish but I doubt he’s a thief.”
Rhonda responded with an icy expression then joined Gretel in the diner, leaving Brooke with Vance as he fiddled-around with the engine.
Rhonda moved as if she was trapped in a vacuum, slurring her words in a slacken mode as she ordered the coffee and then strolled to the powder room.
On her trip to the washroom, Rhonda was intercepted by one of the females she deemed a trollop.
“Pardon me but I’m Trina”, she cordial smiled.
Trina Watson was within Rhonda’s age, short black hair with streaks of blond, tacky earrings, and her pretty face sullied by an unusual amount of cosmetics. Trina’s relatively plump figure was attired in a snug fitting orange tube top that advertised her amply proportioned breasts and black skirt that catered to her round derriere. A fake gold navel ring was fasten to her paunchy beer belly and a tattoo of a scorpion decorated her upper arm.
Rhonda lazily nodded while yawning, “Yeah, I’m…Rhonda.”
Rhonda wasn’t up to making friends in such an armpit of an establishment but feeling increasingly fatigued; her mindset wasn’t where she wanted it to be.
“I just wanted to say”, Trina warbled in an overtly rustic tone, “Your sister is cute but she ain’t got a patch on you.”
Rhonda understood she was in the vicinity of the economically insolvent and disadvantaged. Naturally this made her feel quite uncomfortable, especially after Gretel pointed out;
“You’re not in Manhattan anymore, so don’t expect room service.”
Rhonda whirled at her waist, “Yes, so I see. Would you know how we might get back on the highway?”
Gretel folded her hands over her big flourishing belly, “Why not join your daughter and have a nice meal, we can finish our talk later.”
Lines formed in Rhonda’s brow, “Pardon me but what difference does it make if you tell me now or later?”
Gretel peered directly into Rhonda’s eyes, “Sit down and have a nice meal and then we’ll talk some more.”
Rhonda felt obligated too agree and simply nodded before rejoining Brooke at the table she selected.
Rhonda removed her raincoat, thus revealing her high-priced lavender colored blazer with matching skirt that emphasized her hourglass figure. Sliding unto the standard diner style chair, Rhonda glimpsed over the patrons and shoddy backdrop of establishment, “I’ve never been to anything vaguely like this, though I suppose you’re accustomed too these places.”
Brooke dropped her head, glassy eyed and with a nomadic expression, she blinked several times before responding, “Yeah, while partying….I mean studying, we occasionally frequent this diner near school.”
Rhonda lackadaisically advised Brooke, “I wouldn’t make a habit of consuming diner food, especially if you’d like to model. It’d expand your waistline and contaminate your overall appearance.”
However, another thought surfaced in Rhonda’s mind, and she wasn’t at all ashamed, “That’s right, Brooke. Continue eating diner food slop and while I’m out on the arm of some attractive gentleman, you’ll be home watching TV with the servants.”
Brooke held the menu to her breasts, delighted at the notion that her mom seemed too be in agreement about her modeling career.
“You’ll send me to me to France?” Brooke smiled, “I’ll pay for the air fare, just help me with the lodging.”
Rhonda didn’t really think Brooke had any real chance in a modeling career but instead of igniting another quarrel, simply appeased her daughter with a saccharine, “Let’s find our way back to the highway, alright. We’ll have plenty of time to discuss France and modeling when we’re at the resort.”
“Yeah!” Brooke chirped. “Aren’t you going to order anything?”
Rhonda glimpsed over a few of the patrons, many of them were quite overweight and even the tawdry looking chicks could have used some help with weight management. “Just coffee for me_.”
With a sly grin, Rhonda continued, “But you go right ahead, pumpkin. Order whatever you like.”
Brooke squinted at her mom, “You’re not being frivolous?”
“Why should I”, Rhonda smoothly explained, “You’re the one who suggested we act like ordinary people, so ignore your diet and eat up. Nonetheless, this is a vacation; you can resume a healthy menu when we’re back in Manhattan.”
“In that case….” Brooke grinned, “I know exactly what I want.”
The waitress was a pretty young woman, her curly brownish-blond hair outlining her chubby features and her pleasingly plump figure attired in an overly worn pale green uniform.
She introduced herself as Bertha and openly addressed the females with a friendly smile, “Figure out what’s you’re going to have?”
Brooke had no uncertainties concerning her order; Chicken fried steak sandwich, mashed potatoes with onion rings and a large cola.”
“I’ll just have coffee”, Rhonda patronizingly told the waitress.
The waitress spoke in an unrefined drone, “Be right back.”
Once the waitress returned with the drinks, she strived for a little small talk;
“What ya girls doing round here? On vacation or visiting? “However, she could tell the upper crust females weren’t interested in mindless chit chat by their condescending attitude.
“We’re off to a rather restricted health spa and resort”, Brooke smugly bragged.
“No doubt your occupation is challenging enough, we wouldn’t want too keep you from the other customers”, Rhonda pompously wrote her off.
The waitress acknowledged their dismissive attitude, “Sure, be back when your order is ready”, and wandered back to her station.
The waitress poured herself a cup of black of coffee and was about to light a cigarette when Gretel waved her over.
Strolling over to Gretel, the waitress amicably inquired, “Kin I get ya something?”
Gretel liberally questioned her, “Those Manhattan women, making you feel all uncomfortable?”
The waitress wrapped her arm around her doughy waist and pulled back her head, “Some folks are convinced they better than us. But damn, take around their expensive clothes and important careers and they be no different than us.”
“I’d say”, Gretel replied as she lowered her eyebrows. “They are that. Bring the flossy older babe a slice of cranberry pie with some ice cream. Say it’s on the house but bring me the check.”
The waitress replied with a burnt expression, “Damn, why you wanna do that? She won’t appreciate it.”
“I agree with ya, Bertha”, Gretel grinned at the waitress, “Though, as you said, take away their expensive clothes and important careers and they’ll be just like us.”
Bertha puffed up her cheeks, “Sure Gretel, I’ll get her the pie and ice cream.”
………………………………................................................
A few minutes later Bertha brought over the order, naturally Rhonda was surprised by the heaping chunk of pie and double scoops of vanilla ice cream.
“I didn’t order any food”, Rhonda told Bertha.
Bertha nodded, “I know but you look rather exhausted. I thought this might perk you up a bit. Anyhow, there’s no charge, so it’ll be extra tasty.”
Rhonda replied with an aloof expression, “I’m not really too sure….”
Brooke spoke over her mother while nibbling on an onion ring, “Oh mother, a little sugar won‘t do you any harm.”
Rhonda half-smiled, “Well, it does look appetizing, but I want you to share it with me.”
Brooke giggled, “I may just want to order my own!”
“That’s totally cool!” Bertha peeped, “I’ll stop by in a few and I’ll see if you want some, alright?”
Brooke nodded as she sampled the chicken fried steak sandwich, “Yeah…”
Rhonda softly chided Brooke once Bertha resumed waiting on other customers.
“Really? Talking while chewing.”
Brooke fluttered her eyes, “Now mom, remember were on vacation, let’s lose the etiquette and pretend we’re normal people.”
Rhonda sipped her coffee then began nibbling on the dessert, “Normal.”
“Normal”, Rhonda repeated as she looked over the patrons and initiated a bout of unfavorable criticism. Denoting their physical appearances and attire, the uneducated impression broadcast in their eyes and the irresponsible method that dictated their lives.
Brooke chimed in, adding her uncompromising opinion, writing them all off as underachievers, a class of socially inept people of whom she wouldn’t want to associate with.
“There’s a typical domestic gal”, Brooke describing an overweight gal in her mid-twenties clad in a discolored housedress. She was seated at the counter talking to a couple of grungy older guys.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she was living on public aid and not at all ashamed.”
The malarkey continued, Rhonda expressing her opinion on the underdressed gals at the table further in back. Calling them trollops and mentioning their tacky clothes and overabundance of cosmetics.
…………………..
Gretel silently gazed at the mother and daughter, focusing on their personalities and manipulating their inhabitations.
………………………………............
As the Manhattan females criticized the patrons and staff, it was evident the rate in which they fed swiftly increased while their behavior acquired an intoxicated quality.
Criticizing other people wasn’t so out of the ordinary, even back in Manhattan the duo often entertained themselves with such gibberish.
A middle aged couple who Rhonda suggested were a day late and a dollar short in terms of personnel hygiene and education, a couple of twenty-something gals in garments meant for physically fit members of their gender. And it went…..
A heavyset young man walked through the kitchen door. Curly black hair, modestly handsome through pudgy features, his faded orange T-shirt corrupted with grease while his big belly dipped over his ragged blue jeans.
“I finished fixing the dish washer”, He told a waitress with a booming if not unrefined voice.
“There’s one for you!”, Rhonda peeped to her daughter, “A fine example of what this community calls a man.”
Brooke was about to scornfully snip at his scruffy appearance but a surprisingly blip of a renegade neutron altered her cognitive thought, “He kind of resembles Baxter Roan.”
Rhonda deeply scrutinized the young man’s facial structure, “Yes, he does. Especially since Baxter let himself get fat.”
Brooke’s posture plunged a tinge downward, “I thought Baxter looked kinda of cute with the extra weight.”
Rhonda scowled at Brooke, “You’re kidding? After Baxter got heavy, he looked like a stupid bartender.”
Brooke sighed, “Nah, I didn’t think so. Especially with his pudgy belly, I felt so….”
Rhonda blinked, “If you like fat guys, there’s your chance.”
Brooke regained her wits, “Oh mom, what I meant was, I thought Baxter still looked attractive despite being pudgy, I don’t like fat guys.”
While Rhonda softly reprimanded Brooke about the importance of dating men compatible to her appearance, Brooke couldn’t deny, she found something peculiarly appealing about men with stout bellies.
Gretel focused attentively on the Manhattan females, privy through scanning their minds, the knowledge was used as putty in her hands. Brooke recognized that such a scalawag couldn’t afford her; he was nothing but a bottom feeder where she was concerned. However, the strangest vibes maneuvered through her, revving up a modest attraction.
Rhonda finished her sugary snack, placing her hand over her tummy; she slid downward in her chair, her spine taking on a rubbery appearance. Emitting a soft sigh, Rhonda faintly smirked, envisioning her daughter courting the pudgy young man. “Dating him would take her down a peg or two”, Rhonda presumed, “No expensive dresses for her, no doubt Brooke’s weight would escalate and….”
Before Rhonda finished her thought, the waitress happened by.
“Anything else?” Bertha gleefully asked.
Rhonda squinted, “Just more coffee.”
Brooke took her eyes off the chunky young man and squeaked, “You think I could have dessert?”
Rhonda cleared her throat, rolling her tongue over her lips; she unequivocally invited Brooke to engage in the pie and ice cream.
“Maybe I’ll have another slice too”, Rhonda added.
……………….
The desserts were brought and the females nibbled; Rhonda feeling abnormally fatigued while Brooke idly gawked over at the stout young man who was now seated at the counter, slurping away a plate of scrabble eggs with beans.
It wasn’t so long before the females had finished their snack and paid their bill.
“We still have to drive the better part of the night”, Rhonda told Brooke.
Brooke insisted they spend the night and make tracks to the resort at first light. After all, a motel was annex to the diner.
“Those dumpy apartments are probably invested with roaches”, Rhonda retorted as they strolled outside.
Once in the car, the enterprise was put on hold, Rhonda’s mustang wouldn’t start.
Gretel approached the ladies while still outside, her wobbling gait never interfering with her dominant character, “I’ll see if Vance can see about getting your car started.”
Vance was the chubby young man whom Rhonda had derided and that Brooke found strangely appealing,
Once Vance made it outside, Gretel made introductions and he willingly checked out the car.
“Why not join me inside and have another cup of coffee”, Gretel advised Rhonda, “This might take a spell.”
Rhonda was originally opposed too the idea but the brimming aspect of Gretel’s eyes convinced her otherwise.
However, before Rhonda joined Gretel, she took Brooke aside and quietly told her, “Remain here and keep that fat hillbilly company, I don’t want him going through our luggage.”
Brooke nodded, a warmness seeping through her body as she momentarily gazed over Vance.
“Mother, he might be terribly oafish but I doubt he’s a thief.”
Rhonda responded with an icy expression then joined Gretel in the diner, leaving Brooke with Vance as he fiddled-around with the engine.
Rhonda moved as if she was trapped in a vacuum, slurring her words in a slacken mode as she ordered the coffee and then strolled to the powder room.
On her trip to the washroom, Rhonda was intercepted by one of the females she deemed a trollop.
“Pardon me but I’m Trina”, she cordial smiled.
Trina Watson was within Rhonda’s age, short black hair with streaks of blond, tacky earrings, and her pretty face sullied by an unusual amount of cosmetics. Trina’s relatively plump figure was attired in a snug fitting orange tube top that advertised her amply proportioned breasts and black skirt that catered to her round derriere. A fake gold navel ring was fasten to her paunchy beer belly and a tattoo of a scorpion decorated her upper arm.
Rhonda lazily nodded while yawning, “Yeah, I’m…Rhonda.”
Rhonda wasn’t up to making friends in such an armpit of an establishment but feeling increasingly fatigued; her mindset wasn’t where she wanted it to be.
“I just wanted to say”, Trina warbled in an overtly rustic tone, “Your sister is cute but she ain’t got a patch on you.”
- Matt L.
- Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 1900
- Joined: Fri May 25, 2012 3:01 pm
Re: STRANDED By Matt L. & Her Revenge
by Mars » Tue Nov 13, 2012 10:25 pm
A nice start from two of my favorite authors; looking forward to the next installment!
- Mars
- Member
- Posts: 33
- Joined: Thu Oct 18, 2012 3:29 pm
Re: STRANDED By Matt L. & Her Revenge
by Matt L. » Wed Nov 14, 2012 1:30 am
Hello Mars,
I appreciate the acknowledgement, delighted that you're enjoying the story.
Cheers, Matt
I appreciate the acknowledgement, delighted that you're enjoying the story.
Cheers, Matt
- Matt L.
- Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 1900
- Joined: Fri May 25, 2012 3:01 pm
Re: STRANDED By Matt L. & Her Revenge
by Matt L. » Wed Nov 14, 2012 12:08 pm
Rhonda’s envy of her daughter’s youthful appearance was a blister to her ego, even though she was in stellar shape for a woman her age. Naturally Trina’s comment was a welcome boost to her self-esteem, especially since Trina assumed they were sisters.
“Thank you, I don’t want to brag but yeah, I agree”, Rhonda confidently concurred, “I’m much better looking than my sister.”
Trina swung her hand unto her hip, “Don’t get me wrong, your sister is cute for a young chick but you’ll still be honey to the guys while she’ll be struggling to fit into a dress.”
A wide eyed Rhonda tilted her head, “I admire your opinion, Trina”, and then unconsciously blurted, “I think we could be friends.”
Trina gently tugged Rhonda‘s expensive blazer, “Shucks babe, just stating the facts. But um, you ought to get rid of those stuffy clothes, wear things that will show off your figure.”
Rhonda giddily giggled, “You think so?”
“I tell ya, sugar”, Trina expounded her opinion, “You should let down your hair and wear some normal clothes.”
Rhonda pondered while gazing over Trina, “Maybe….”
“How long will ya be staying here?” Trina asked.
Before Rhonda could reply, Vance walked back into the diner and informed her, “I’m not exactly sure why your car ain’t running, you need a real mechanic.”
“Is there even a mechanic available around here?” Rhonda questioned.
Vance nodded, “Sure is, but you’ll be needing a tow and Hanley’s shop is closed for the night.”
Rhonda looked at Brooke, “Now what?”
Brooke slithered in between her mom and Vance. The weirdest vibes echoing through her body as her elbow brushed against Vance’s podgy belly.
Brooke peeped, “I think we’ll be staying here the night.”
“They don’t have the proper accommodations for us!” Rhonda snapped.
Gretel joined in on the discussion, “Now it won’t be that bad, miss Rhonda. I have a vacant room in my flat where you and her can spend the night.”
Trina chimed in, “You ain’t got much of a choice now that your car’s not running!”
Gretel instructed Vance to bring their luggage to her cottage then soothingly told Rhonda, “We’ll have your car towed first thing, in the meantime, you’ll be my guest.”
Brooke’s eyes absentmindedly grazed Vance’s and she impulsively grinned like a smitten teenager.
“I’ll give you a hand with the luggage”, Brooke volunteered in a syrupy tone.
Trina winked at Rhonda before rejoining her friends, “Maybe we’ll have some time to chat tomorrow.”
Rhonda regretfully sighed.
……………………………….........................................................................................................................................................
Gretel’s cottage was adjacent to the motel’s property, a comfortable yet old-fashioned habitat that hadn’t changed since the 1920’s. The exterior, though in an almost neglected state, was white in color with green trim. Flowers circled the home and there was a small white picket fence. Wind chimes abound the dwelling and there were rickety old lawn chairs on the porch.
A distance away was a tiny shack for laundry.
The interior was incredibly vintage and just plain outmoded. The wallpaper of a checkered pattern was yellowed by age, well worn furniture and motley looking blue carpet.
Gretel led them to a spare bedroom, “Have only one extra bed, so you’re going to have to share.”
“I just want this night to be over with and get back on the road tomorrow”, Rhonda mentioned under her breath.
“We’ll see”, Gretel cautiously replied and just as quiet.
There was a rustic flavor to the pine wood walls, the queen sized bed covered with a multicolored quilt, and the antique furniture was of an inferior quality.
“The bathroom is down the hall”, Gretel informed the ladies as she slowly closed the door, “I’ll be up for a while case ya need anything.”
“We’ll be perfectly fine”, Rhonda answered back.
Rhonda planted herself on the bed and removed her stylish footwear, “Such an unbelievable putrid place to spend the night.”
Brooke heaved her T-shirt upward, “I’ve seen better, much better but we don’t have much of a choice.”
Rhonda removed her blazer then began unbuttoning her silk blouse, subsequently noticing her daughter’s form.
Brooke had just removed her sweatpants, her trim figure clad in a rather inexpensive bra and panty-girdle.
Rhonda snickered, “I thought models had flat stomachs.”
Brooke pushed back her hair before planting her hand over her tummy.
“I told you I lost most of the weight”, Brooke embarrassedly smiled, “Only have this patch of belly fat but it really isn‘t so big.”
Rhonda sarcastically smirked, “Big enough to conceal it, huh pumpkin.”
Brooke nervously sighed as she peeled the panty-girdle downward, revealing the puffiness of her indisputably soft tummy. “It’s a little bigger than usual because I just ate”, Brooke remarked with a cheesy smile.
Rhonda glimpsed Brooke’s tummy, her vision subsequently viewing her thighs. Though Brooke’s thighs were rather trim, they weren’t tone enough to model.
Rhonda surmised to herself, “Modeling will be futile and without a college degree she‘ll wind up a big butt secretary.”
However, aiming to keep her daughter in a pseudo sanguine mindset, lied between her teeth, “Just pay attention to what you eat and develop a diligent work out schedule. You’ll be in tip-top shape before you know it.”
“Though very FAT unlikely”, Rhonda nitpicked in the back of her mind.
“Thanks for the support, mom!” Brooke chimed as she garbed herself in a cherry red with black trim pajamas.
She couldn’t have looked more out of place in Gretel’s ramshackle abode.
“Going to freshen up before I turn in”, Brooke announced to her mom before strolling out of the bedroom.
Absentmindedly forgoing anything on her feet, including socks, Brooke traipsed down the narrow corridor toward the bathroom, noticing a light on in the kitchen; she changed her route and popped in on Gretel.
“I’m going to use the powder room”, Brooke courteously smiled, “I won’t take too long.”
Gretel’s big belly quivered as she removed herself from the stove “Ain’t cha the sweet thing, full blown of country politeness.”
“You’re very nice putting us up for the night, I can at least show you some respect”, Brooke replied.
“Come on in”, Gretel encouraged Brooke, “My eyes ain’t so good anymore, I’d like to get a better look at ya.”
Brooke did just that as Gretel informed her, “Your mother seems to be in an awful mood, so I’m brewing some tea to relax her. Would you care for some?”
Brooke rocked her head sideways, “I’m not much of a tea drinker but if it’ll help me sleep, why the fudge not.”
“Very smart”, Gretel grinned then cast her eyes upon Brooke’s splendorous form.
“You’re a pleasing example of a young woman, though those pajama’s are a might fancy for us simple folk. I see you’re barefoot, that’s more typical to the young gals around here.”
Brooke suspended her toffee-nosed ideals to appease Gretel though there was a hint of condescension in her voice, “I wasn’t aware there was such a distinct division in class.”
“Most of us round here have been out of work so long, they couldn’t manage with your requirements but make do with what they have, and even then, their wages were hardly nuthin.”
Brooke uncomfortably sighed, “I didn’t mean any offense.”
“None taken”, Gretel amusingly grinned, “I wuz just stressing the facts. Now take a seat and I’ll set you up with some tea and perhaps a slice of banana cake would do your stomach a good turn as you slumber.”
Brooke parked her duff on the spacious plastic chair next to the wobbling table, “I’m not too sure about the cake, I think I exceeded my limit on calories tonight_.”
“For the entire week!” Brooke giggled.
Gretel delicately cupped Brooke’s narrow chin, peering deeply into her eyes, she convincingly hummed, “Put your vanity on hold while under my roof and in view of the circumstances, conform too this culture even if it opposes your own.
Brooke blinked several times and Gretel released her chin.
Brooke watched as Gretel removed the cake out from the raven colored ice box, her eyes wide as saucers, her mind slowly digesting the gypsy woman’s proposal.
Brooke’s jaw dropped as Gretel fastidiously sliced off a hearty chunk of banana cake in which she placed in front of her.
Brooke winced at Gretel, “I’m still full from the diner food… I honestly couldn’t stand another bite.”
Gretel steadily removed a morsel of cake and brought the fork to Brooke’s lips, “I haven’t a doubt a simple taste and you’ll change your tune.”
Brooke daintily chewed, a glimmering spark in her eyes displaying her satisfaction.
Gretel equipped Brooke’s hand with the fork, gently rubbing the back of her head, she then instructed the attractive college student, “Eat up and don’t forget bout the tea. I’m going to see about Rhonda and then I’ll get back to you and we can have a little chat.”
………………………………...................
Rhonda was standing at the inadequately sized mirror, hovering over the dilapidated looking dressing table. Brushing back her auburn mane, clad in the shortest of nightgowns of a violet hue.
Gretel silently gazed over the championing legal professor, in stellar form from her svelte waist to slender thighs, even her round bottom defied gravity. However, Rhonda noticed Gretel and spun around, an animated bobble to her lovely breasts.
“I beg your pardon”, Rhonda huffed, “Civilized people ought better to know to knock, even if their housing guest.”
Gretel paid her no mind, instead, and fully aware of Rhonda’s conceit, acknowledged her beautiful figure. “There you are, you bring Brooke too shame, its little wonder those out of the loop take you as sisters. You have the superior shape.”
Rhonda’s superficial attitude cancelled her annoyance with Gretel entering unannounced, and she elatedly chirped, “Ah yes, I so agree. I’m afraid my Brook takes after my mother’s side of the family. Many of them couldn‘t manage a healthy weight.”
Gretel prudently grinned, “Is that so?”, and she handed Rhonda the tea cup, “This will aid your frustration and help you sleep.”
“I’ve never been much of a tea drinker but thank you anyway”, Rhonda smiled.
Gretel intensely tapped into Rhonda’s sub-conscious as she steadily gazed into hers eyes, “Ignore the prominence you’re accustomed too, the formalities that determine your usual routine, you’ll alleviate the tension once adapting to the surroundings.”
Rhonda sipped the tea and then smiling, continued where she left off in the conversation, “If I didn’t pester Brooke about her weight, she’d be so heavy….”
“Eventually she’ll wear plus size gowns”, Rhonda cattily snickered, “It’s inevitable.”
“You’d like that?” Gretel inquired.
Rhonda sat down on the edge of the bed, a sip of tea before admitting, “If it’ll direct attention from her to me, I wouldn’t mind it.”
Gretel shook her head, peculiarly stating, “Ah, Brooke looks the domestic type, a dormant lifestyle would easily pile on the pounds.”
Rhonda unsurprisingly gawked at Gretel, she wouldn’t want her daughter to be a couch potato or chained to the fridge. However, a revved up antagonistic spark infiltrated her mind.
“The appetite Brooke has, it’s very plausible”, Rhonda smirked.
Gretel held her hands to her hips, “Finish up the tea and sleep content, we’ll see about your car tomorrow.”
And Rhonda did just that.
“Thank you, I don’t want to brag but yeah, I agree”, Rhonda confidently concurred, “I’m much better looking than my sister.”
Trina swung her hand unto her hip, “Don’t get me wrong, your sister is cute for a young chick but you’ll still be honey to the guys while she’ll be struggling to fit into a dress.”
A wide eyed Rhonda tilted her head, “I admire your opinion, Trina”, and then unconsciously blurted, “I think we could be friends.”
Trina gently tugged Rhonda‘s expensive blazer, “Shucks babe, just stating the facts. But um, you ought to get rid of those stuffy clothes, wear things that will show off your figure.”
Rhonda giddily giggled, “You think so?”
“I tell ya, sugar”, Trina expounded her opinion, “You should let down your hair and wear some normal clothes.”
Rhonda pondered while gazing over Trina, “Maybe….”
“How long will ya be staying here?” Trina asked.
Before Rhonda could reply, Vance walked back into the diner and informed her, “I’m not exactly sure why your car ain’t running, you need a real mechanic.”
“Is there even a mechanic available around here?” Rhonda questioned.
Vance nodded, “Sure is, but you’ll be needing a tow and Hanley’s shop is closed for the night.”
Rhonda looked at Brooke, “Now what?”
Brooke slithered in between her mom and Vance. The weirdest vibes echoing through her body as her elbow brushed against Vance’s podgy belly.
Brooke peeped, “I think we’ll be staying here the night.”
“They don’t have the proper accommodations for us!” Rhonda snapped.
Gretel joined in on the discussion, “Now it won’t be that bad, miss Rhonda. I have a vacant room in my flat where you and her can spend the night.”
Trina chimed in, “You ain’t got much of a choice now that your car’s not running!”
Gretel instructed Vance to bring their luggage to her cottage then soothingly told Rhonda, “We’ll have your car towed first thing, in the meantime, you’ll be my guest.”
Brooke’s eyes absentmindedly grazed Vance’s and she impulsively grinned like a smitten teenager.
“I’ll give you a hand with the luggage”, Brooke volunteered in a syrupy tone.
Trina winked at Rhonda before rejoining her friends, “Maybe we’ll have some time to chat tomorrow.”
Rhonda regretfully sighed.
……………………………….........................................................................................................................................................
Gretel’s cottage was adjacent to the motel’s property, a comfortable yet old-fashioned habitat that hadn’t changed since the 1920’s. The exterior, though in an almost neglected state, was white in color with green trim. Flowers circled the home and there was a small white picket fence. Wind chimes abound the dwelling and there were rickety old lawn chairs on the porch.
A distance away was a tiny shack for laundry.
The interior was incredibly vintage and just plain outmoded. The wallpaper of a checkered pattern was yellowed by age, well worn furniture and motley looking blue carpet.
Gretel led them to a spare bedroom, “Have only one extra bed, so you’re going to have to share.”
“I just want this night to be over with and get back on the road tomorrow”, Rhonda mentioned under her breath.
“We’ll see”, Gretel cautiously replied and just as quiet.
There was a rustic flavor to the pine wood walls, the queen sized bed covered with a multicolored quilt, and the antique furniture was of an inferior quality.
“The bathroom is down the hall”, Gretel informed the ladies as she slowly closed the door, “I’ll be up for a while case ya need anything.”
“We’ll be perfectly fine”, Rhonda answered back.
Rhonda planted herself on the bed and removed her stylish footwear, “Such an unbelievable putrid place to spend the night.”
Brooke heaved her T-shirt upward, “I’ve seen better, much better but we don’t have much of a choice.”
Rhonda removed her blazer then began unbuttoning her silk blouse, subsequently noticing her daughter’s form.
Brooke had just removed her sweatpants, her trim figure clad in a rather inexpensive bra and panty-girdle.
Rhonda snickered, “I thought models had flat stomachs.”
Brooke pushed back her hair before planting her hand over her tummy.
“I told you I lost most of the weight”, Brooke embarrassedly smiled, “Only have this patch of belly fat but it really isn‘t so big.”
Rhonda sarcastically smirked, “Big enough to conceal it, huh pumpkin.”
Brooke nervously sighed as she peeled the panty-girdle downward, revealing the puffiness of her indisputably soft tummy. “It’s a little bigger than usual because I just ate”, Brooke remarked with a cheesy smile.
Rhonda glimpsed Brooke’s tummy, her vision subsequently viewing her thighs. Though Brooke’s thighs were rather trim, they weren’t tone enough to model.
Rhonda surmised to herself, “Modeling will be futile and without a college degree she‘ll wind up a big butt secretary.”
However, aiming to keep her daughter in a pseudo sanguine mindset, lied between her teeth, “Just pay attention to what you eat and develop a diligent work out schedule. You’ll be in tip-top shape before you know it.”
“Though very FAT unlikely”, Rhonda nitpicked in the back of her mind.
“Thanks for the support, mom!” Brooke chimed as she garbed herself in a cherry red with black trim pajamas.
She couldn’t have looked more out of place in Gretel’s ramshackle abode.
“Going to freshen up before I turn in”, Brooke announced to her mom before strolling out of the bedroom.
Absentmindedly forgoing anything on her feet, including socks, Brooke traipsed down the narrow corridor toward the bathroom, noticing a light on in the kitchen; she changed her route and popped in on Gretel.
“I’m going to use the powder room”, Brooke courteously smiled, “I won’t take too long.”
Gretel’s big belly quivered as she removed herself from the stove “Ain’t cha the sweet thing, full blown of country politeness.”
“You’re very nice putting us up for the night, I can at least show you some respect”, Brooke replied.
“Come on in”, Gretel encouraged Brooke, “My eyes ain’t so good anymore, I’d like to get a better look at ya.”
Brooke did just that as Gretel informed her, “Your mother seems to be in an awful mood, so I’m brewing some tea to relax her. Would you care for some?”
Brooke rocked her head sideways, “I’m not much of a tea drinker but if it’ll help me sleep, why the fudge not.”
“Very smart”, Gretel grinned then cast her eyes upon Brooke’s splendorous form.
“You’re a pleasing example of a young woman, though those pajama’s are a might fancy for us simple folk. I see you’re barefoot, that’s more typical to the young gals around here.”
Brooke suspended her toffee-nosed ideals to appease Gretel though there was a hint of condescension in her voice, “I wasn’t aware there was such a distinct division in class.”
“Most of us round here have been out of work so long, they couldn’t manage with your requirements but make do with what they have, and even then, their wages were hardly nuthin.”
Brooke uncomfortably sighed, “I didn’t mean any offense.”
“None taken”, Gretel amusingly grinned, “I wuz just stressing the facts. Now take a seat and I’ll set you up with some tea and perhaps a slice of banana cake would do your stomach a good turn as you slumber.”
Brooke parked her duff on the spacious plastic chair next to the wobbling table, “I’m not too sure about the cake, I think I exceeded my limit on calories tonight_.”
“For the entire week!” Brooke giggled.
Gretel delicately cupped Brooke’s narrow chin, peering deeply into her eyes, she convincingly hummed, “Put your vanity on hold while under my roof and in view of the circumstances, conform too this culture even if it opposes your own.
Brooke blinked several times and Gretel released her chin.
Brooke watched as Gretel removed the cake out from the raven colored ice box, her eyes wide as saucers, her mind slowly digesting the gypsy woman’s proposal.
Brooke’s jaw dropped as Gretel fastidiously sliced off a hearty chunk of banana cake in which she placed in front of her.
Brooke winced at Gretel, “I’m still full from the diner food… I honestly couldn’t stand another bite.”
Gretel steadily removed a morsel of cake and brought the fork to Brooke’s lips, “I haven’t a doubt a simple taste and you’ll change your tune.”
Brooke daintily chewed, a glimmering spark in her eyes displaying her satisfaction.
Gretel equipped Brooke’s hand with the fork, gently rubbing the back of her head, she then instructed the attractive college student, “Eat up and don’t forget bout the tea. I’m going to see about Rhonda and then I’ll get back to you and we can have a little chat.”
………………………………...................
Rhonda was standing at the inadequately sized mirror, hovering over the dilapidated looking dressing table. Brushing back her auburn mane, clad in the shortest of nightgowns of a violet hue.
Gretel silently gazed over the championing legal professor, in stellar form from her svelte waist to slender thighs, even her round bottom defied gravity. However, Rhonda noticed Gretel and spun around, an animated bobble to her lovely breasts.
“I beg your pardon”, Rhonda huffed, “Civilized people ought better to know to knock, even if their housing guest.”
Gretel paid her no mind, instead, and fully aware of Rhonda’s conceit, acknowledged her beautiful figure. “There you are, you bring Brooke too shame, its little wonder those out of the loop take you as sisters. You have the superior shape.”
Rhonda’s superficial attitude cancelled her annoyance with Gretel entering unannounced, and she elatedly chirped, “Ah yes, I so agree. I’m afraid my Brook takes after my mother’s side of the family. Many of them couldn‘t manage a healthy weight.”
Gretel prudently grinned, “Is that so?”, and she handed Rhonda the tea cup, “This will aid your frustration and help you sleep.”
“I’ve never been much of a tea drinker but thank you anyway”, Rhonda smiled.
Gretel intensely tapped into Rhonda’s sub-conscious as she steadily gazed into hers eyes, “Ignore the prominence you’re accustomed too, the formalities that determine your usual routine, you’ll alleviate the tension once adapting to the surroundings.”
Rhonda sipped the tea and then smiling, continued where she left off in the conversation, “If I didn’t pester Brooke about her weight, she’d be so heavy….”
“Eventually she’ll wear plus size gowns”, Rhonda cattily snickered, “It’s inevitable.”
“You’d like that?” Gretel inquired.
Rhonda sat down on the edge of the bed, a sip of tea before admitting, “If it’ll direct attention from her to me, I wouldn’t mind it.”
Gretel shook her head, peculiarly stating, “Ah, Brooke looks the domestic type, a dormant lifestyle would easily pile on the pounds.”
Rhonda unsurprisingly gawked at Gretel, she wouldn’t want her daughter to be a couch potato or chained to the fridge. However, a revved up antagonistic spark infiltrated her mind.
“The appetite Brooke has, it’s very plausible”, Rhonda smirked.
Gretel held her hands to her hips, “Finish up the tea and sleep content, we’ll see about your car tomorrow.”
And Rhonda did just that.
- Matt L.
- Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 1900
- Joined: Fri May 25, 2012 3:01 pm
Re: STRANDED By Matt L. & Her Revenge
by her revenge » Thu Nov 15, 2012 2:37 am
Mars wrote:A nice start from two of my favorite authors; looking forward to the next installment!
Thanks Mars, I'm glad your enjoying the story
HR
-
her revenge - Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 364
- Joined: Wed Jun 13, 2012 7:57 am
Re: STRANDED By Matt L. & Her Revenge
by PlumpUP » Sun Nov 18, 2012 11:09 pm
Great story so far can't wait to see more!
My Weight Gain Morphs & Caption Blog http://plumpupmorphs.blogspot.com/
- PlumpUP
- Member
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Sun May 27, 2012 9:16 am
Re: STRANDED By Matt L. & Her Revenge
by Matt L. » Mon Nov 19, 2012 2:57 pm
Hello PlumpUp,
I'm very delighted you're enjoying the story, thank you for the acknowledgment.
Cheers, Matt
I'm very delighted you're enjoying the story, thank you for the acknowledgment.
Cheers, Matt
- Matt L.
- Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 1900
- Joined: Fri May 25, 2012 3:01 pm
Re: STRANDED By Matt L. & Her Revenge
by Matt L. » Sat Nov 24, 2012 2:04 pm
When Gretel returned to the kitchen, Brooke was limply reclining in the chair, her legs stretching outward, her hand meticulously massaging her bloated tummy.
“If my mom knew how much I ate, she’d give me a big lecture for sure”, Brooke ridiculously smirked.
“It’ll be our secret”, Gretel replied, “Want another slice?”
Brooke crinkled her nose. The banana cake was indeed tasty and she wouldn’t mind another slice but the spongy patch of tummy convinced her otherwise.
“I wish but a little too much cake would put me in a bigger dress size.”
Gretel nodded.
Observing the empty tea cup, Gretel suggested a little warm milk to help Brooke sleep.
Brooke agreed and along with the milk, Gretel placed a plate of incredibly large oatmeal cookies on the table.
“Let’s have a bout of some old fashion girl talk”, Gretel beamed a wide smile as she sluggishly lowered her beefy body into the chair.
Brooke reflexively snared a cookie and nibbled while nourishing on the milk.
“You shouldn’t be so cautious about your weight sweetie”, Gretel began the discussion, “You’re a pretty young thing, a few extra pounds won’t keep the guys from courting you.”
Brooke tilted her head, blushing as she smiled, “Thanks, um, sure, I date often, though I want to stay physically fit, I’m planning on a modeling career.”
Gretel ignored the modeling career comment, focusing instead on her male companions.
“These guys you date, you duly pleased with them or do they lack what you desire?”
Brooke momentarily pondered over the question.
“I guess they’re alright for now, nothing too remarkable but for the most part they treat me well. I suppose once my career takes off, I’ll connect with a much more worthwhile class of men.”
Gretel breezily chuckled, “You seem somewhat taken with Vance.”
Brooke sipped the milk, rolling her eyes with a silly grin.
“Yeah, it‘s kind of weird, I mean, Vance is so not my type.”
Gretel coaxed Brooke into spilling her guts, “It’ll be between us girls_.”
There was an awkward spin to Brooke’s voice, “There’s something about pudgy bellies that rouses me down to my socks…. I wouldn’t want to, nothing personnel, Vance seems like a nice guy, but he’s not for me.”
Gretel pushed the plate of cookies closer to Brooke, “You’d have to get to know Vance better before forming an opinion, no?”
Brooke seized another cookie, “I guess but were from two different worlds.”
Gretel watched as Brooke delicately nibbled on the cookie and calmly talked Vance up.
“Vance isn’t book smart and he could stand to bathe a little more often but he’s very sensitive and kind to a fault.”
Brooke heaved a long sighed, finishing up the remaining portion of the cookie in two bites.
“I think I’m about ready to turn in”, Brooke clumsily grinned before lapping up the milk.
Gretel nodded as Brooke stood up and thanked her for the hospitality.
Upon stretching, Brooke made a beeline to the bedroom but not before Gretel telling her, “Perhaps you and Vance are from separate worlds, though varying circumstances may crop up and the boundaries removed.”
Brooke wasn’t quite sure what Gretel meant and replied with a gawky stare, “Well, for what it's worth, Vance does seem like the sweet type.”
“If my mom knew how much I ate, she’d give me a big lecture for sure”, Brooke ridiculously smirked.
“It’ll be our secret”, Gretel replied, “Want another slice?”
Brooke crinkled her nose. The banana cake was indeed tasty and she wouldn’t mind another slice but the spongy patch of tummy convinced her otherwise.
“I wish but a little too much cake would put me in a bigger dress size.”
Gretel nodded.
Observing the empty tea cup, Gretel suggested a little warm milk to help Brooke sleep.
Brooke agreed and along with the milk, Gretel placed a plate of incredibly large oatmeal cookies on the table.
“Let’s have a bout of some old fashion girl talk”, Gretel beamed a wide smile as she sluggishly lowered her beefy body into the chair.
Brooke reflexively snared a cookie and nibbled while nourishing on the milk.
“You shouldn’t be so cautious about your weight sweetie”, Gretel began the discussion, “You’re a pretty young thing, a few extra pounds won’t keep the guys from courting you.”
Brooke tilted her head, blushing as she smiled, “Thanks, um, sure, I date often, though I want to stay physically fit, I’m planning on a modeling career.”
Gretel ignored the modeling career comment, focusing instead on her male companions.
“These guys you date, you duly pleased with them or do they lack what you desire?”
Brooke momentarily pondered over the question.
“I guess they’re alright for now, nothing too remarkable but for the most part they treat me well. I suppose once my career takes off, I’ll connect with a much more worthwhile class of men.”
Gretel breezily chuckled, “You seem somewhat taken with Vance.”
Brooke sipped the milk, rolling her eyes with a silly grin.
“Yeah, it‘s kind of weird, I mean, Vance is so not my type.”
Gretel coaxed Brooke into spilling her guts, “It’ll be between us girls_.”
There was an awkward spin to Brooke’s voice, “There’s something about pudgy bellies that rouses me down to my socks…. I wouldn’t want to, nothing personnel, Vance seems like a nice guy, but he’s not for me.”
Gretel pushed the plate of cookies closer to Brooke, “You’d have to get to know Vance better before forming an opinion, no?”
Brooke seized another cookie, “I guess but were from two different worlds.”
Gretel watched as Brooke delicately nibbled on the cookie and calmly talked Vance up.
“Vance isn’t book smart and he could stand to bathe a little more often but he’s very sensitive and kind to a fault.”
Brooke heaved a long sighed, finishing up the remaining portion of the cookie in two bites.
“I think I’m about ready to turn in”, Brooke clumsily grinned before lapping up the milk.
Gretel nodded as Brooke stood up and thanked her for the hospitality.
Upon stretching, Brooke made a beeline to the bedroom but not before Gretel telling her, “Perhaps you and Vance are from separate worlds, though varying circumstances may crop up and the boundaries removed.”
Brooke wasn’t quite sure what Gretel meant and replied with a gawky stare, “Well, for what it's worth, Vance does seem like the sweet type.”
- Matt L.
- Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 1900
- Joined: Fri May 25, 2012 3:01 pm
Re: STRANDED By Matt L. & Her Revenge
by Matt L. » Sat Nov 24, 2012 2:20 pm
STRANDED: PART TWO
Rhonda rolled over and eyed her slumbering daughter.
Brooke’s mane in total disarray while a tiny sliver of fatty tissue broadcast her impending double chin. Blinking herself into full consciousness, Rhonda imagined how a surge of additional weight would drastically spoil Brooke’s impressive features.
Rhonda cattily grinned at the wishful vision of a tubby daughter.
Rhonda removed her slender form out of bed and then quietly rummaged through her purse.
Grabbing her cell phone, she was disappointed that there still wasn’t a signal and then proceeded out of the bedroom.
On Rhonda’s trek to the bathroom, she encountered Gretel.
“If you expect to shower, miss Rhonda, be warned, I don’t have the warmest water available.”
Rhonda nodded as she gazed over Gretel, clad in a gray colored wool nightgown.
“Breakfast be up shortly!” Gretel buzzed in an annoyingly cheerful timbre.
“I’ll wash up and then get Brooke.”
Gretel folded her arms of her jutting big jugs, “Nah, let her sleep. Have some breakfast and then see about your car. I’ll look after the beauty queen while youse out and about.”
Rhonda pushed back a loose curl, “I suppose that’s a sound idea.”
Gretel waddled by Rhonda, merrily stating, “No need talking smart around here, who’s to impress.”
Once Rhonda returned to the kitchen, she discovered a plate of bacon and eggs waiting for her.
“Nothing personnel but my usual breakfast consists of half a grapefruit and coffee.”
Gretel snickered as she pulled out the plastic chair for her, “A healthy eater, there’s none of that around here, so eat up so it won’t go to waste.”
Rhonda felt a weird impulse too abide Gretel’s request and promptly obliged her.
Though bacon and eggs was never apart of Rhonda’s menu back in Manhattan, she readily consumed the meal, actually enjoying it in the process.
Gretel took a seat on the other side of the table, scratching her portly belly before taking to her coffee, “I took the liberty of pouring you some milk, coffee too if you want.”
“Is it whole milk?” Rhonda asked as she seized the glass.”
Gretel didn’t rely, Rhonda happily engaged in a modest sip.
“Coffee would be ….yeah, I would like some coffee too please”, Rhonda gaily commented after a moment of mind freeze.
“Help yourself, Miss Rhonda, have a donut too”, Gretel courteously told the beautiful law professor.
Rhonda staggered out of the chair and poured herself a cup of coffee and grabbed a donut before settling back in her seat.
Gretel enjoyed a taste of coffee, “There are a few things I’d like too go over with ya.”
After another sip, Gretel continued, “Remember, most folks out here have empty pockets, so when you see about your car, don’t act like you’re rolling in dough.”
Rhonda cleared her throat and snottily stated, “I beg your pardon. I’m not that pretentious.”
Gretel tapped her coffee cup, “I was saying don’t act like your better than us, anyhow, Cyrus Hanley might up his fee if he gets wise that you have a lot of cash.”
“Oooh”, A wide eyed Rhonda blurted, “I never thought of that.”
Gretel nodded, “And go easy on your looks, wear your daughter’s clothes but nothing fancy, you don’t want too look like youse anybody special.”
Rhonda’s eyes haughtily twinkled, “I’ll probably look better in her clothes than she does.”
Gretel sipped her coffee, “Ah, quite so Miss Rhonda.”
Rhonda casually sipped her coffee then picked up the donut, atypically chewing while she spoke.
“Where exactly is this body shop and how do I get there?”
“The old fashion way, walking”, Gretel informed Rhonda, “It ain’t so far, just down the road and over the hill. A healthy woman like you should make it without a lick of difficulty.”
“Well…um…”, Rhonda straighten her posture, “Naturally, I’m in tip-top shape.”
Gretel sluggishly moved to her feet, her large belly quivering in motion, “Finish up and take your shower. In the meantime I’ll go through the beauty queen’s suitcase.”
Rhonda impulsively chuckled, “Beauty queen, yeah right.”
“Come now, finish up your breakfast”, Gretel squawked in a firm demanding tone as if she was speaking to her own daughter, “I know how anxious you are too get to that resort.”
Rhonda, perplexed as she was, once again felt inclined too obey Gretel and swiftly finished her meal.
Wiping her lips, Rhonda used her sturdy legs, propelling herself away from the table, the scratching sound over the hardwood floor causing Gretel too humorously buzz, “Ain’t we a lady!”
Rhonda dropped her chin.
“What’s come over me?”, she questioned.
Running her fingers through her dense auburn hair, she glided her face upward, “Really need a shower, I gotta snap out of this.”
Gretel gestured toward the bathroom, “I ain’t stopping ya, you know where it is.”
……….
A few minutes later Gretel crept into the guest room holding a glass of milk. The white hue spoiled by a grayish tint. Brooke opened her eyes as Gretel lifted her head.
“Don’t mean to disturb ya; ol auntie Gretel has the remedy for what ails you.”
Half asleep, Brooke glanced over at Gretel, her voice plagued with lethargy, “Huh, what?”
Gretel gently brought Brooke’s head upward, the edge of the glass reaching her lips.
“Wait a minute…”, Brooke softly uttered.
A nasty grimace contaminated Brooke’s delectable features as she swallowed the milk, coughing before given another drink.
Gretel eased Brooke’s head downward.
“That tasted horrible….” Brooke remarks as she wiped her lips and then advanced upward, “What’s going on, you trying to poison me?”
Standing over Brooke, Gretel smirked, “The hair of a rat, not the least, my concoction will do you no harm but beget the best possible temper.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Brooke’s brimming anger perched in her eyes, “And where’s my mother?”
“Your fit of pique will diminish”, Gretel calmly replied, “You’ll be easier to manage.”
Brooke flung off the blanket; about too scurry out of bed, “You’re bat shit crazy!”
“Watch the language!” snapped Gretel.
A blast of lightheadedness thumped Brooke’s maneuver out of bed, sinking downward back unto the mattress with the ceiling whirling over her head.
Gretel reached over, patting Brooke’s soft tummy she sneeringly hissed, “Plenty of room for growth, you’ll have a different attitude once you come down to earth.”
Brooke sighed and as the spinning stopped, she closed her eyes.
…………………………
Rhonda had left the shower, clad in just a bra and a towel wrapped over her French cut panties.
Clueless as to why, Rhonda needed another donut and she swiped one out of the box as Gretel emerged into the kitchen.
“Got your head back on straight”, Gretel sarcastically asked with the hint of a grin.
“Yeah, I think so”, Rhonda reluctantly replied, then snipped off a mouthful of donut.
“Way I see it, the needier you look, the better. We don’t want Cyrus jacking up his rates coz you is wealthy.”
Rhonda tilted her head, “And you think you can pull this off? Lots of luck.”
“You bet your ass!” Gretel wildly chuckled.
Rhonda, gnawing on the donut in less than civilized fashion, cynically grinned.
“Step into my bedroom, miss Rhonda. I’ll remove the refinement of your appearance that so no one with money give you a second glance.”
“This I have to see”, Rhonda squeaked.
………….
Rhonda sat on an antique brown bench, Gretel running a brush over her gorgeous auburn hair.
“Seems like last night you wore your hair in a high-flown style, I kin tell, probably cost ya bundle fixed like that. We’ll just let your hair lay over your shoulders, real causal like.”
Rhonda brought Gretel up to speed, “You’d be surprised on how much it costs too have my hair done, it ain’t….I mean…it’s not cheap.”
Gretel giggled.
Rhonda’s hair, somewhat wavy in consistency, laid over her shoulders, outlining her exquisite features. “Better than I assumed, very nice”, Rhonda beamed a satisfied smile.
“Well, speak in a more relax manner, missy, you still sound too well bred.”
Rhonda leisurely slipped her fingers through her mane, “I guess.”
Gretel handed Rhonda her wardrobe, “Got these out of your daughter’s suitcase, put em’ on.”
Rhonda stood up and discarded the towel, on inspecting the clothes she noticed something atypical concerning the T-shirt, “Hey, you cut it in half.”
Gretel happily disclosed, “You have a tummy flat enough to show off, flaunt it while you can.”
“I never agreed too look trashy!” Rhonda vehemently squabbled.
Gretel stepped closer to Rhonda, her glaring eyes meeting Rhonda’s.
“You’re proud of your figure, ain’t cha? You’re in better shape then even your daughter, and besides, Cyrus would give you better service if you showed off your body and didn’t look like an outsider.”
Rhonda blinked several times, clearing her throat, she hesitated before agreeing, “I suppose you do have a point, I‘m a very attractive woman, why not show off my figure.”
“That’s fine missy”, Gretel wily responded, her apple cheeks inflating with her smile, “Leave the bra too.”
“You think?” Rhonda released a girlie giggle.
“You have such spectacular breasts for a women your age, forgo the bra until need be.”
Rhonda swayed her succulent form toward the mirror and cupped her shapely 36-B’s.
“Yeah”, Rhonda softly uttered, “They’re spectacular.”
Shortly, Rhonda was clad in the cropped pink and red colored T-shirt and skimpy blue denim shorts.
Rhonda stood at the mirror, captivated by her beauteous appearance, unaware of how much she looked like an authentic uneducated hillbilly.
“A couple of things before you check on your car”, Gretel told Rhonda.
Rhonda was still mesmerized by her looks, causing Gretel to snap her fingers to gather her attention.
Rhonda blushed as she apologized, “Ops! I didn’t mean no disrespect; I was just admiring my figure.”
“I kin tell but mind my advice, it’s important!”
Rhonda pushed back her hair, “Yes Gretel.”
At first, Gretel’s blistering eyes sent shivers down Rhonda’s spine, especially with the strict sound of her voice. However, the sensation soon subsided and she twisted at the hips, a tranquil mood erasing her worried mind.
“Say you’re my relations, my niece from a small town, out of work and coming for a visit. That should put you in a sociable spot with Cyrus.”
Rhonda nibbled on her finger tip, “Hmmm, yeah, if you say so.”
“Darn toot’n I say so. If he even smells money on you he’ll charge you double.”
Gretel then advised Rhonda to take another glimpse of herself in the mirror and study her reflection.
“You’re no different than anyone else round here. Them clothes you wear ‘n , matches your attitude, personality wise that is.”
Rhonda looked over herself from bottom to top and over again.
“Can I see Brooke before I go?” Rhonda politely inquired. Though not polite enough.
“What’s the proper manner a girl asks her aunt?” Gretel bluntly demanded.
“Um, may I please check on Brooke before I check on the car, ma’am?”
“Aunt Gretel will do, missy. Go ahead and then run along.”
Rhonda bobbled her head and then walked to the guest room and checked on the slumbering Brooke.
Gretel snuck up behind Rhonda, “She’ll be fine under my care. I’ll have her all washed up and feeding her breakfast by the time you return.”
“Thanks, thank you aunt Gretel, I appreciate it.”
Gretel wobbled around Rhonda, squinting over at Brooke, she reverted her attention back to her mom, “Ahhh there‘s no comparison, you in far better shape then her.”
Rhonda reached into a duffle bag and removed a pair of top of the line sneakers. “I think that’s already been established”, Rhonda arrogantly smirked.
Gretel was quite pleased that she had managed to intensify the rivalry between mother and daughter, and she deliberately added, “Of course Brooke must work hard on staying thin, off her diet, she’d be a fatty for sure.”
Rhonda giggled, “I wish….you really think so?”
“I know so”, Gretel responded as she advanced toward Rhonda, then whispered, “Permit my handy work, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
Rhonda first thought was opposing the suggestion, though her abnormal egotism surfaced, “What do I care, she’s not in my league anyway.”
Gretel interrupted Rhonda as she was about to slip her feet into her trendy Ralph Lauren sneakers, “Don’t wear those, they’ll give you away.”
“What then will I wear?” Rhonda quibbled, “It’s not like I shop at payless.”
Sure enough, Gretel brought Rhonda an appropriate pair of rather cheap sneakers that she had in the closet.
Well worn and dirty, nothing a socialite would want to wear, and they fit on her feet just fine.
Soon enough Rhonda was strolling down the lengthy country road to Hanley’s repair shop.
The attractive law professor didn’t feel as tense as she had the previous evening. Maybe she was confident her car would be repaired without a glitch and both her and Brooke would soon be out of this backward environment and back in their cultivated society.
She wasn’t even bothered with pretense of being an ordinary hillbilly. Let Cyrus Hanley or anyone else think what they want. As long a she was able to break away from this community and without a major dent in her credit card, let them deem her an illiterate bar maid if they wanted.
The only item that made Rhonda feel somewhat uncomfortable was having too pull off Gretel as her aunt.
Gretel was an obese, uncultured, ridiculous woman, implying that they were related was thoroughly embarrassing. Even though Gretel recognized Rhonda’s beauty as superior too Brooke’s, calling her aunt was nauseating.
Rhonda rolled over and eyed her slumbering daughter.
Brooke’s mane in total disarray while a tiny sliver of fatty tissue broadcast her impending double chin. Blinking herself into full consciousness, Rhonda imagined how a surge of additional weight would drastically spoil Brooke’s impressive features.
Rhonda cattily grinned at the wishful vision of a tubby daughter.
Rhonda removed her slender form out of bed and then quietly rummaged through her purse.
Grabbing her cell phone, she was disappointed that there still wasn’t a signal and then proceeded out of the bedroom.
On Rhonda’s trek to the bathroom, she encountered Gretel.
“If you expect to shower, miss Rhonda, be warned, I don’t have the warmest water available.”
Rhonda nodded as she gazed over Gretel, clad in a gray colored wool nightgown.
“Breakfast be up shortly!” Gretel buzzed in an annoyingly cheerful timbre.
“I’ll wash up and then get Brooke.”
Gretel folded her arms of her jutting big jugs, “Nah, let her sleep. Have some breakfast and then see about your car. I’ll look after the beauty queen while youse out and about.”
Rhonda pushed back a loose curl, “I suppose that’s a sound idea.”
Gretel waddled by Rhonda, merrily stating, “No need talking smart around here, who’s to impress.”
Once Rhonda returned to the kitchen, she discovered a plate of bacon and eggs waiting for her.
“Nothing personnel but my usual breakfast consists of half a grapefruit and coffee.”
Gretel snickered as she pulled out the plastic chair for her, “A healthy eater, there’s none of that around here, so eat up so it won’t go to waste.”
Rhonda felt a weird impulse too abide Gretel’s request and promptly obliged her.
Though bacon and eggs was never apart of Rhonda’s menu back in Manhattan, she readily consumed the meal, actually enjoying it in the process.
Gretel took a seat on the other side of the table, scratching her portly belly before taking to her coffee, “I took the liberty of pouring you some milk, coffee too if you want.”
“Is it whole milk?” Rhonda asked as she seized the glass.”
Gretel didn’t rely, Rhonda happily engaged in a modest sip.
“Coffee would be ….yeah, I would like some coffee too please”, Rhonda gaily commented after a moment of mind freeze.
“Help yourself, Miss Rhonda, have a donut too”, Gretel courteously told the beautiful law professor.
Rhonda staggered out of the chair and poured herself a cup of coffee and grabbed a donut before settling back in her seat.
Gretel enjoyed a taste of coffee, “There are a few things I’d like too go over with ya.”
After another sip, Gretel continued, “Remember, most folks out here have empty pockets, so when you see about your car, don’t act like you’re rolling in dough.”
Rhonda cleared her throat and snottily stated, “I beg your pardon. I’m not that pretentious.”
Gretel tapped her coffee cup, “I was saying don’t act like your better than us, anyhow, Cyrus Hanley might up his fee if he gets wise that you have a lot of cash.”
“Oooh”, A wide eyed Rhonda blurted, “I never thought of that.”
Gretel nodded, “And go easy on your looks, wear your daughter’s clothes but nothing fancy, you don’t want too look like youse anybody special.”
Rhonda’s eyes haughtily twinkled, “I’ll probably look better in her clothes than she does.”
Gretel sipped her coffee, “Ah, quite so Miss Rhonda.”
Rhonda casually sipped her coffee then picked up the donut, atypically chewing while she spoke.
“Where exactly is this body shop and how do I get there?”
“The old fashion way, walking”, Gretel informed Rhonda, “It ain’t so far, just down the road and over the hill. A healthy woman like you should make it without a lick of difficulty.”
“Well…um…”, Rhonda straighten her posture, “Naturally, I’m in tip-top shape.”
Gretel sluggishly moved to her feet, her large belly quivering in motion, “Finish up and take your shower. In the meantime I’ll go through the beauty queen’s suitcase.”
Rhonda impulsively chuckled, “Beauty queen, yeah right.”
“Come now, finish up your breakfast”, Gretel squawked in a firm demanding tone as if she was speaking to her own daughter, “I know how anxious you are too get to that resort.”
Rhonda, perplexed as she was, once again felt inclined too obey Gretel and swiftly finished her meal.
Wiping her lips, Rhonda used her sturdy legs, propelling herself away from the table, the scratching sound over the hardwood floor causing Gretel too humorously buzz, “Ain’t we a lady!”
Rhonda dropped her chin.
“What’s come over me?”, she questioned.
Running her fingers through her dense auburn hair, she glided her face upward, “Really need a shower, I gotta snap out of this.”
Gretel gestured toward the bathroom, “I ain’t stopping ya, you know where it is.”
……….
A few minutes later Gretel crept into the guest room holding a glass of milk. The white hue spoiled by a grayish tint. Brooke opened her eyes as Gretel lifted her head.
“Don’t mean to disturb ya; ol auntie Gretel has the remedy for what ails you.”
Half asleep, Brooke glanced over at Gretel, her voice plagued with lethargy, “Huh, what?”
Gretel gently brought Brooke’s head upward, the edge of the glass reaching her lips.
“Wait a minute…”, Brooke softly uttered.
A nasty grimace contaminated Brooke’s delectable features as she swallowed the milk, coughing before given another drink.
Gretel eased Brooke’s head downward.
“That tasted horrible….” Brooke remarks as she wiped her lips and then advanced upward, “What’s going on, you trying to poison me?”
Standing over Brooke, Gretel smirked, “The hair of a rat, not the least, my concoction will do you no harm but beget the best possible temper.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Brooke’s brimming anger perched in her eyes, “And where’s my mother?”
“Your fit of pique will diminish”, Gretel calmly replied, “You’ll be easier to manage.”
Brooke flung off the blanket; about too scurry out of bed, “You’re bat shit crazy!”
“Watch the language!” snapped Gretel.
A blast of lightheadedness thumped Brooke’s maneuver out of bed, sinking downward back unto the mattress with the ceiling whirling over her head.
Gretel reached over, patting Brooke’s soft tummy she sneeringly hissed, “Plenty of room for growth, you’ll have a different attitude once you come down to earth.”
Brooke sighed and as the spinning stopped, she closed her eyes.
…………………………
Rhonda had left the shower, clad in just a bra and a towel wrapped over her French cut panties.
Clueless as to why, Rhonda needed another donut and she swiped one out of the box as Gretel emerged into the kitchen.
“Got your head back on straight”, Gretel sarcastically asked with the hint of a grin.
“Yeah, I think so”, Rhonda reluctantly replied, then snipped off a mouthful of donut.
“Way I see it, the needier you look, the better. We don’t want Cyrus jacking up his rates coz you is wealthy.”
Rhonda tilted her head, “And you think you can pull this off? Lots of luck.”
“You bet your ass!” Gretel wildly chuckled.
Rhonda, gnawing on the donut in less than civilized fashion, cynically grinned.
“Step into my bedroom, miss Rhonda. I’ll remove the refinement of your appearance that so no one with money give you a second glance.”
“This I have to see”, Rhonda squeaked.
………….
Rhonda sat on an antique brown bench, Gretel running a brush over her gorgeous auburn hair.
“Seems like last night you wore your hair in a high-flown style, I kin tell, probably cost ya bundle fixed like that. We’ll just let your hair lay over your shoulders, real causal like.”
Rhonda brought Gretel up to speed, “You’d be surprised on how much it costs too have my hair done, it ain’t….I mean…it’s not cheap.”
Gretel giggled.
Rhonda’s hair, somewhat wavy in consistency, laid over her shoulders, outlining her exquisite features. “Better than I assumed, very nice”, Rhonda beamed a satisfied smile.
“Well, speak in a more relax manner, missy, you still sound too well bred.”
Rhonda leisurely slipped her fingers through her mane, “I guess.”
Gretel handed Rhonda her wardrobe, “Got these out of your daughter’s suitcase, put em’ on.”
Rhonda stood up and discarded the towel, on inspecting the clothes she noticed something atypical concerning the T-shirt, “Hey, you cut it in half.”
Gretel happily disclosed, “You have a tummy flat enough to show off, flaunt it while you can.”
“I never agreed too look trashy!” Rhonda vehemently squabbled.
Gretel stepped closer to Rhonda, her glaring eyes meeting Rhonda’s.
“You’re proud of your figure, ain’t cha? You’re in better shape then even your daughter, and besides, Cyrus would give you better service if you showed off your body and didn’t look like an outsider.”
Rhonda blinked several times, clearing her throat, she hesitated before agreeing, “I suppose you do have a point, I‘m a very attractive woman, why not show off my figure.”
“That’s fine missy”, Gretel wily responded, her apple cheeks inflating with her smile, “Leave the bra too.”
“You think?” Rhonda released a girlie giggle.
“You have such spectacular breasts for a women your age, forgo the bra until need be.”
Rhonda swayed her succulent form toward the mirror and cupped her shapely 36-B’s.
“Yeah”, Rhonda softly uttered, “They’re spectacular.”
Shortly, Rhonda was clad in the cropped pink and red colored T-shirt and skimpy blue denim shorts.
Rhonda stood at the mirror, captivated by her beauteous appearance, unaware of how much she looked like an authentic uneducated hillbilly.
“A couple of things before you check on your car”, Gretel told Rhonda.
Rhonda was still mesmerized by her looks, causing Gretel to snap her fingers to gather her attention.
Rhonda blushed as she apologized, “Ops! I didn’t mean no disrespect; I was just admiring my figure.”
“I kin tell but mind my advice, it’s important!”
Rhonda pushed back her hair, “Yes Gretel.”
At first, Gretel’s blistering eyes sent shivers down Rhonda’s spine, especially with the strict sound of her voice. However, the sensation soon subsided and she twisted at the hips, a tranquil mood erasing her worried mind.
“Say you’re my relations, my niece from a small town, out of work and coming for a visit. That should put you in a sociable spot with Cyrus.”
Rhonda nibbled on her finger tip, “Hmmm, yeah, if you say so.”
“Darn toot’n I say so. If he even smells money on you he’ll charge you double.”
Gretel then advised Rhonda to take another glimpse of herself in the mirror and study her reflection.
“You’re no different than anyone else round here. Them clothes you wear ‘n , matches your attitude, personality wise that is.”
Rhonda looked over herself from bottom to top and over again.
“Can I see Brooke before I go?” Rhonda politely inquired. Though not polite enough.
“What’s the proper manner a girl asks her aunt?” Gretel bluntly demanded.
“Um, may I please check on Brooke before I check on the car, ma’am?”
“Aunt Gretel will do, missy. Go ahead and then run along.”
Rhonda bobbled her head and then walked to the guest room and checked on the slumbering Brooke.
Gretel snuck up behind Rhonda, “She’ll be fine under my care. I’ll have her all washed up and feeding her breakfast by the time you return.”
“Thanks, thank you aunt Gretel, I appreciate it.”
Gretel wobbled around Rhonda, squinting over at Brooke, she reverted her attention back to her mom, “Ahhh there‘s no comparison, you in far better shape then her.”
Rhonda reached into a duffle bag and removed a pair of top of the line sneakers. “I think that’s already been established”, Rhonda arrogantly smirked.
Gretel was quite pleased that she had managed to intensify the rivalry between mother and daughter, and she deliberately added, “Of course Brooke must work hard on staying thin, off her diet, she’d be a fatty for sure.”
Rhonda giggled, “I wish….you really think so?”
“I know so”, Gretel responded as she advanced toward Rhonda, then whispered, “Permit my handy work, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
Rhonda first thought was opposing the suggestion, though her abnormal egotism surfaced, “What do I care, she’s not in my league anyway.”
Gretel interrupted Rhonda as she was about to slip her feet into her trendy Ralph Lauren sneakers, “Don’t wear those, they’ll give you away.”
“What then will I wear?” Rhonda quibbled, “It’s not like I shop at payless.”
Sure enough, Gretel brought Rhonda an appropriate pair of rather cheap sneakers that she had in the closet.
Well worn and dirty, nothing a socialite would want to wear, and they fit on her feet just fine.
Soon enough Rhonda was strolling down the lengthy country road to Hanley’s repair shop.
The attractive law professor didn’t feel as tense as she had the previous evening. Maybe she was confident her car would be repaired without a glitch and both her and Brooke would soon be out of this backward environment and back in their cultivated society.
She wasn’t even bothered with pretense of being an ordinary hillbilly. Let Cyrus Hanley or anyone else think what they want. As long a she was able to break away from this community and without a major dent in her credit card, let them deem her an illiterate bar maid if they wanted.
The only item that made Rhonda feel somewhat uncomfortable was having too pull off Gretel as her aunt.
Gretel was an obese, uncultured, ridiculous woman, implying that they were related was thoroughly embarrassing. Even though Gretel recognized Rhonda’s beauty as superior too Brooke’s, calling her aunt was nauseating.
- Matt L.
- Transformation Grand Master
- Posts: 1900
- Joined: Fri May 25, 2012 3:01 pm
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