FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

[Junketh71]

Thank you for the new chapter... It is quite appreciated...

[Hongo1000]

Enjoying the story so far, keep going

[Matt L.]

Thanks everyone!

The next episode will be up soon.

Cheers, Matt

[Matt L.]

Yolanda tilted the bowl of oat meal so she could efficiently scrape away what remnants lingered on the bottom. Unaware of the loud uncouth slurping sound coinciding with her inhaling the food off the spoon. The oat meal was layered with butter which Yolanda specifically enjoyed and plenty of sugar.

A thin trail of oat meal spewed over Yolanda’s lips, the dribble slowly trickled downward eventually burrowing into the crevasse of her plump second chin, riding over the developing third one.

It was the cool of the morning when Yolanda felt most comfortable. The fatty flesh of her hips and waist dangling over the cot which she had outgrown weeks earlier. It now took a pair of sheets to cover her bulbous body, marked with stains and generating a rancid odor which no longer bothered her.

It was then that Rosaria entered the small room with a second bowl of oat meal.
Yolanda smiled with both her lips and eyes
Yolanda’s features had dramatically changed since she had arrived months earlier.
The exotic beauty that once turned heads now held the familiar look of a nondescript peasant girl.
Blubbery cheeks and bulbous double chin, the fatty tissue reshaping her nose and jaw line as well, providing her with more than just a docile appearance but rubbing out her Spanish ancestry as well, her indigenous-Mexican heritage quite distinguishable.

Rosaria smiled back as she switched the empty bowl for the full one, Yolanda subtly giggled at the overflowing contents, then heaved an elated sigh after sampling the first spoonful.

Rosaria gazed over Yolanda’s body, grinning at her and Marta’s handiwork, Marco really had gotten his money’s worth.

Yolanda was seated in an upright position against the wall, her cushy flab encased belly was pointed upward, a terrific huge mound in girth and width while her thighs had become legitimately enormous.

“Roast duck with potatoes for dinner, how does that suit our big girl?”

The term they used on her, big girl, didn’t have any effect on Yolanda anymore. Yolanda wasn’t exactly overjoyed about her size but the nickname seemed logical now. She was a big girl, a very big girl.

Yolanda’s hips were now astronomically wide corresponding to her waist which was circled by rolls, the largest at least an inch thick while her posterior had prominently balloon to immense proportions.

Yolanda paused from her meal, a vibrant twinkled in her eyes, “I would like that, Rosaria, thank you.”
Yolanda’s voice sounded clearly compliant, for what strength she had when she first arrived had been broken. Yolanda’s personality had been likewise overhauled, uncomplicated and introverted, she preferred being unobtrusive.

Yolanda’s motioned caused her breasts to quiver, Rosaria couldn’t help noticing the surplus growth to Yolanda’s tetas, oval shaped and sprawled over her belly, the tissue unanimously flabby.

“Well now, I’ll get ya some milk, Yolie, I’ll be right back”, Rosaria pleasantly chirped as she backed out of the small room.

Yolanda released an anxious giggle and fluttered her eyes, “Perfect!”

__

Rosaria instantly met up with Marta in the kitchen who was in the middle of making fresh bread.
“Is it me or has she gained weight overnight?” Rosaria teasingly winced.

Marta wiped her hands off her apron, mischievously grinning, “I knew we’d get her big but I’m astonished how fat she got! She’s gigantic, isn’t she?”

“I’ll say!” Rosaria answered back, “I gotta take a snapshot of her for our photo album, nobody will believe the incredible amount of weigh she gained.”

“Well you better take it soon”, Marta bluntly acknowledged her sister in law, “Next week Hector is taking her off our hands to train her as a housekeeper for the resort he runs.”

“Now how in the hell are they going to find a uniform that will fit her?” Rosaria smirked.
“It’s going to be specially made, I guess”, Marta deduced.

“A shame we can’t get set her up with another man before she leaves here, a girl her age should be acquainted with some romance”, Rosaria shared her thoughts while pouring a glass of buttermilk.

“Yes”, Marta concurred, “She could use the attention but a girl her size finding a lover can be complicated. Most men aren’t attracted to females larger than them, and she’s a jumbo.”


____________


Back in her small room Yolanda continued to greedily feed.
Yolanda realized she could no longer fit into sexy undergarments or fancy dresses or turn the heads of desirable males.
College was for attractive and smart girls. Yolanda had become accustomed within a status where those things were now foreign to her.
Albeit it was both a comfort and a pleasure to embrace her appetite, deriving such enjoyment from eating that the consequences to her figure brought only a trifle amount of concern,

Yolanda contentedly slurped away another spoonful of oat meal, harmoniously grunting at the thought of having roast duck for dinner and wondering where was Rosaria with the milk.

__

Rosaria returned a moment later with the large mug of buttermilk. She kindly held the bowl while handing Yolanda the mug. It was mind-boggling how swift Yolanda emptied the mug; she then blushed after an absentminded burp.

“We have to get you in the shower sometime this afternoon”, Rosaria said with a peach of smile, although Yolanda grimaced, “I just had a shower four or five days ago,”

“No, I’m afraid that was Monday, last week”, Rosaria corrected her subordinate.
“Remember Mrs. Valdez stopped over just as we were drying you off….”

Of course Yolanda remembered, Mrs. Valdez was with her daughter, a skinny waif of a female within her age. Yolanda didn’t like how the younger woman looked at her, and spent the entire afternoon in her room until their visit was over.

Yolanda resumed eating the oatmeal, Rosaria adamant about the shower, “Maybe before lunch after you feed the chickens.”

Yolanda’s expression soured, she had no choice but agree.

“I was just talking with Marta about something”, Rosaria syrupy smiled, “We both feel you’re due for male companionship_.”

Yolanda began to eat faster, sloppier at the mention of male companionship, the previous times the older women tried setting her up the results weren’t to her liking, matter of fact they were humiliating.

At a carnival Yolanda met up with Luis and his friends which didn’t boon so well and it all but broke her heart.

The second incident was at a barbecue and Yolanda was enticed by a shy young man who seemed longing for feminine attention. Yolanda rummaged through what was left of her flirting skills but to no prevail. The young man having the balls to admit, “You’re a little too big boned for my taste, you remind me of my sister!”

Rejection was still a new experience for Yolanda, she had been slim, beautiful, popular, and having accumulated all the more weight since the carnival and barbecue a romantic relationship with any man was very unlikely.

Yolanda messily chewed while Rosaria continued about perhaps fixing her up with Luis’s uncle.

“Gus is about twenty-five years older than you but he’s been lonely ever since his wife packed up and left him.
We’ll invite him over for dinner and see if something clicks between you two.”

“Not tonight!” Yolanda fretfully disagreed, “That means less roast duck and potatoes for me. Please, Rosaria, some other time.”

Rosaria chuckled, “You’re right, it is short notice. We’ll do it tomorrow then. We’ll make stew, enough for everybody!”

Yolanda glimpsed her billowy belly, “What if I’m too big for him?” she squeaked.

“I suppose that’s a chance we need to take but you do miss being with a man, right?” Rosaria awkwardly questioned.

Yolanda nodded, her double chin expanding as she gushed, “Yeah…very much.”

Whether it was her mind being dumb-downed or some kind of erroneous handling of the facts but her thoughts centered on Marco, he was a very vigorous and at times sensitive lover.

Yolanda half-smiled as she recollected her romance with Marco, his sweet compliments pertaining to her beauty, her figure absolutely flawless back then.

“Very well, Yolie”, Rosaria buzzed, “We’ll see about getting our big girl some action.”

Yolanda was engaged in a moment of excitement which was thwart just as quick upon realizing she wasn’t the same woman anymore.
She couldn’t deny the behavior which big girls classically epitomized, commonly undisciplined and thoroughly slovenly.
Yolanda was indeed absolutely insecure about her body but wasn’t at all inhibited about her appetite.

“More oat meal”, Yolanda shamelessly requested, “Another bowl, please.”

Rosaria provided Yolanda a comforting smile, “All you want….”

Rosaria nimbly skimmed the surface of Yolanda’s belly, the tissue utterly pulpy, subsequently gently pinching her chubby cheek, “….We mustn’t let you go hungry.”

Yolanda giggled, wiping what remained in the bowl and licking her fingertips.

_____

“Well it’s pretty much official”, Rosaria beamed a wide smile upon returning to the kitchen.

Marta’s cheery tone matched her expression, “What’s official?”

“Yolie’s has become accustomed to being fat”, Rosaria proudly smiled.


______________________


The garment Yolanda wore to feed the chickens was a mundane if not outright ugly strapless housedress that exemplified the size and roundness of her dome shaped belly, just as uncomplimentary to the expanse of her hindquarters and humongous thighs.
The only article of clothing that accurately fit her portly figure, but Yolanda didn’t care about how unpleasant it looked or how it flaunted her girth. Big girls had no privilege in fashion.

Feeding the chickens was a mindless function which Yolanda was perfectly suited, her third world heritage didn’t seem unreasonable but rather normal. Yolanda’s ambition in improving her life had adapted uncomplicated and realistic goals. Shelter and food were her priorities, the success and luxuries she once desired were pointless.

Yolanda took a peak into the fridge upon waddling indoors and consumed a handful of sausages while her belly pressed against the racks. Gnawing loudly, link by link, unaware just how fast she gobbled up the food.

“We got fresh bedding for you, dear”, Marta chimed, standing within feet of Yolanda’s hippo size posterior.
“Then we’ll get you showered!”
Yolanda slowly spun around, Marta handing her the nicely folded sheets then stepped aside to clear her path. “You have to get with the program”, a hint of affection in Marta’s voice, “In a few weeks you’ll be working at a real five star hotel, you need to learn how to make beds.”

Yolanda’s sense of clean hygiene had slipped as was her protocol for a clean environment.
It didn’t matter to Yolanda if the sheets were soiled or the crumbs that littered her floor.
She had more than become lazy; she was entirely comfortable being a slob.

Yolanda began to sniffle, Marta gently patted her back, “Now don’t you worry, you’ll be okay.
Unable to resist teasing the overweight young woman, Marta added, “Chambermaid is a most suitable profession for a girl like you.”

Yolanda turned around in slow motion, uttering a morose whine, “I feel so awkward, so pathetic now, I’m embarrassed about my size. People will give me funny looks, treat me like a misfit.”

Marta’s smile not as wholesome as it appeared, “Right you are, you’re a big one, darling, but as long as you’re proficient in your labor things will be easier for you.”

“You think?” Yolanda questioned.

“Well, I think after a time you’ll get used to the displeasure being so hefty, it’ll be like you’ve always been fat. That’s what people are going to think.”

Yolanda used her forearm to wipe her nose, “Is that suppose to make me feel better?”

“I’m just stating the facts; the sooner you adapt to this new identity and forget what you were the better. You do understand, right? It‘s more than your figure being distorted with fat but how you now rank considering your appearance and profession.”

Yolanda grumpily sighed.

Marta smirked, “What was that?”

Yolanda gulped a mouthful of air, her features contorting, “I understand.”

Marta took the initiative and walked out of Yolanda’s bedroom, waving her on, “Let’s get this done.”

Yolanda walked behind Marta through the kitchen onward to the shower stall.

Marta stepped aside as Yolanda removed her gown with some struggle, handing her a fresh bar of soap.

“Wash up really good, don’t forget to get between those rolls”, Marta instructed Yolanda.

Once in the shower Yolanda lathered up, her skin feeling like rubber encasing an ocean of cushy fat.

The expanse of Yolanda’s belly was almost mind numbing to the poor girl, once delicately trim it had ballooned into an enormous spherical shaped gut which propelled outward, the blubbery tissue jiggling chaotically as she scrubbed the surface with the soap.

Marta was joined by Rosaria; they entertained a private conversation while Yolanda showered.

“That girl has outgrown most of her clothes, one of us has to go that parsimony shop in town and get her new stuff”, Marta informed Rosaria.

“Isn’t that the truth”, Rosaria agreed, “I wonder if they have any circus fat women apparel?”

Marta leaned in toward the stall, “Hurry it up now, we can’t wait on you all day!”

A moment later Yolanda dragged herself out of the shower, Rosaria and Marta fast at work with towels in helping her dry off.

“Oh Yolanda, look at those lovely chunky thighs! I do believe each one is bigger than your waist when you first arrived!” Marta exclaimed.

Yolanda hadn’t quite realized it, and whether it was the shock or the ludicrousness of the fact, she laughed at the comment.


“Yeah, we have chores to do but you take a good hard nap, we’ll get ya when supper’s ready!” Rosaria chimed.

Yolanda madly giggled as the towels quickly rubbed against her flab, and she couldn’t erase the smile from her corpulent face concerning supper.



__________________


Yolanda joined the women at the kitchen table for dinner, Rosaria and Maria sharing their own duck with a modest amount of potatoes while Yolanda was favored with 2 birds and 5 large roasted potatoes for herself.

Yolanda ignored the utensils at least for the duck, using her fingers to rip apart the bird, gnawing excitedly in an undignified display of gluttony which would remain common to her nature.

The first bird was cleaned to the bones as she began devouring the second, Yolanda’s didn’t notice the sloppy manner in which she fed or how loud she smacked her lips and chewed.

Marta lifted the pitcher to fill Yolanda’s glass with buttermilk, Rosaria comically quipped, “Watch out, she might bite your hand.”

Yolanda seized the glass, conveying thank you by way of her expression, subsequently guzzling the glass empty. Yolanda scratched her waist, her fingers disappearing in the dense flab.

Using the fork, Yolanda seized upon the potatoes which she consumed at a leisurely pace.

“Weren’t you making biscuits?” Yolanda’s voice resonating a timorous timbre.

“Would you like some more buttermilk with the biscuits?” Rosaria smiled.

A faint pink hue blossomed over Yolanda’s corpulent cheeks, “Yes, please”, her civility much more than regular politeness but an emphatically form of passiveness.

“Finish your potatoes”, Rosaria conveyed her idea with an influential grin, “I’ll personally set you up with plenty of biscuits and buttermilk while we watch TV.”

Yolanda’s high-pitch giggle was answer enough.


_______________


In the living room Yolanda had her own chair which was reinforced to tolerate her weight.
A big wide comfortable lounge chair, the armrest double the size in comparison to the typical chair.

There was indeed a distinctive waddle to Yolanda’s movement, her entire body jiggling.

Yolanda sighed as she planted herself unto the cushion, Maria promptly took a seat on the sofa, “Rosaria will be bringing you the biscuits in a moment….”


“And the buttermilk too?” Yolanda flatly droned.

Maria warmly smiled, “Of course dumpling, we want our big girl happy!”

Yolanda unconsciously blushed, subsequently surveying her buttery big belly.
There was no disputing the fact, Yolanda svelte form had become history, from here on in she would be ever known as a big girl.

Rosaria placed the platter of biscuits and jug of buttermilk on the snack tray beside the motley chair where Yolanda sat. The biscuits coated with an abundance of butter much to Yolanda’s pleasure.

“Remember to watch the crumbs…” Rosaria sweetly cautioned Yolanda as she made a trek to her chair.
Such a request would have seemed ludicrous a year earlier and Yolanda would have been especially insulted. However, Yolanda habitually chewed her food rather messily, a fact they all shared in unison.

“Yes, Rosaria”, Yolanda compliantly agreed.

Yolanda’s fat cheeks inflated with her smile, and she heaved a melodious sigh at the biscuit’s aroma. Yolanda found herself tremendously thrilled to the point of arousal as she bit into the initial biscuit, making a loud slurping yummy sound and chewing loudly.

Yolanda’s other hand drifted to her belly which laid quiescent over the blubbery dome.
Breathing through her pudgy nose, eagerly gnawing while slowly pushing the biscuit into her mouth.

Yolanda unintentionally obtained Rosaria’s and Marta’s attention as she loudly gulped down the buttermilk, excess milk steadily dribbling down her chin.

“Easy girl”, Rosaria calmly but irreverently stated, “You needn’t prove you’re a slob.”

Yolanda rested the jug over her sprawling belly; she discreetly smiled, then giggled while nodding.
The taunts now pointless, Yolanda recognized she was a slob, and didn’t care.

A routine American based Mexican soap opera on TV, Yolanda had developed a fondness for such ridiculously trite programs despite never being the slightest bit interested in them while she lived in America.

Yolanda slobbered away on the next biscuit while intensely focused on the scene playing out between a mother and her daughter having a melodramatic argument with another daughter.

The beauteous formed females on the soap opera no longer made Yolanda feel that uncomfortable, though she would still feel envious at times. She acknowledged the fact her glamorous days were history, any romance now would more than likely be realized through the pages of those cheap romance novels the women provided her with or ardently imagining herself being pampered by the actors on screen. Nothing amorous other than catering to the whims of appetite and humoring her with vast meals.

Yolanda soon found herself wondering what her mother and sisters will think with her inevitable return to Los Angeles. Yolanda’s sisters would have a good laugh now that she was much heavier than both of them. She often made wisecracks and hassled them about being big.
Yolanda realized there would be a joke or two about her finally catching up with the rest of the family.

Yolanda almost wanted to remain in Mexico, even if she was reduced to being a scrubwoman at Hector’s hotel. It would save her the embarrassment of returning home and having everybody see that she had become a blimp.

However, Yolanda had a boy, sired by Marco. Would her child think she was some stranger? She had gained so much weight, she would be unrecognizable. And of course Sheila entered Yolanda’s mind, she imagined the worse being left unguarded to Marco’s whims.

“Is everything alright?” Rosaria inquired while the soap opera paused for commercials.
“You look deep in thought.”

Yolanda’s blubbery body wiggled profusely as she adjusted herself in the chair. Seizing the next biscuit, she gently smiled, “Just thinking about my family and when I get back home to Los Angeles.”

Marta calmly reminded Yolanda, “You’re starting housekeeping training next week and in about six months or so Hector will send you back to the states.”

The melted butter oozed over Yolanda’s lips trickling down to her chin as she gnawed on the biscuit, “I remember, Marta. I was going to school, learning to be housekeeper boss, maybe I get work like that, maybe?”

Marta snickered, “I admire your ambition, but honey, I’m afraid you’ll be cleaning up and that’s about all. You’re not the upper management type.”


“You do understand”, Rosaria diligently clued Yolanda in, “You’re being groomed to be housekeeper, maybe in America you can find work at an upper class hotel or clean for a nice well to do family.”

Yolanda nodded, she wouldn’t let her brittle emotions or the fact that she was destined to poverty interfere with the scrumptious biscuits she was enjoying.

__

Yolanda ate until just before bedtime, she had become cozy with her appetite in such way that any additional pounds she might put on no longer mattered.

The bed seemed so much smaller than when she first arrived but she soon found a comfortable position regardless that a portion of her body seeped over the frame.


________________

[Junketh71]

Thank you for the new chapter. It is very much appreciated.

[TheGreatestView]

This is astounding Matt! The transition into Yolanda's current situation was jarring, but in a good way. She's fallen so far and it's hard to see her escaping this situation with any sinew of pride or respectability intact. Impeccably written.

I found it interesting when she was thinking about her family members and their reactions to her weight gain. How long has she been away now & how much has she gained? The fact that her child might not recognize her is definitely terrifying for her

[div]

Nice doing Matt and Her Revenge!

I have been wondering for a while how you decide to describe the long term effect of the drug on Yolanda Marco injected into her blood stream. Here it is.

Her mind slow and dulled, the IQ drop seemingly more significant than in her last scene, generally indifferent to most things except to the meal she is devouring or the next to come, indeed stuffing her tummy joyfully, that's not the same woman, not the same Yolanda. Passive, docile, unassuming, the change seems to be irreversible. You do not refer to her weight. It is not neccesary, I think. I presume she has reached a state where her mobility is starting to get effected and becoming even more lazy belongs.

Kind regards!

[Matt L.]

Hello friends,

Thank you for all the kind remarks. Next episode up shortly.

Cheers, Matt

[Matt L.]

Yolanda had always the air of confidence around men, her beauty and smarts - street wise as well as college - were to her advantage, producing a healthy self-esteem.

This wasn’t the same woman who sat at the table that very morning, appeasing her appetite with a generous meal of waffles, corn-bread, chicken wings, and ice cream.

Rosaria and Marta were talking a mile a minute about Gus, Rosaria would drive out to his ranch before noon and invite him to dinner, yearning for the older rancher to scratch Yolanda’s sexual itch.

“Now don’t be expecting a Romeo, Gus isn’t the best looking guy but he is polite in his own way, and doesn’t smell too bad.”

Rosaria and Marta continued talking Gus up, about his skill in checkers and how he didn’t have a girlfriend, and was lonely.

Yolanda snorted a couple times out of nervousness, once simply due to the natural effect of the changes to her breathing due to her abnormal girth.

“I…I…don’t know if I’m sure I want to meet him…” Yolanda warbled, “….My size might make him queasy….you know?”

Rosaria turned to Marta, “She is larger than Gus, you think she could be right?”

“We shouldn’t put the cart before the horse, at least introduce him to her”, Marta replied.

Yolanda chugged her buttermilk, nasally whining afterward, “I can’t go through with this, I know Gus won’t like me….don’t bother him…he can’t possibly find me appealing….”

Rosaria smirked; she knew the odds of Gus becoming enchanted with Yolanda weren’t in her favor.
“Well then”, Rosaria swerved her face toward Marta, “I’ll still invite Gus over, Yolanda doesn’t stand a chance in any companionship but it’ll give her a good idea how most men will treat her when she’s back in America.”

Yolanda paused from chewing, “Hey…” she winced, “That’s not nice..”

“You need to experience this”, Marta oddly stating with an affectionate smile, “You’re no glamour girl anymore.”

All for not as a knock came to the door.

Rosaria discovered upon opening the door a couple of big husky men.

“Hector sent us; he wants her at the resort today!”

Yolanda’s fat features curdled in fear, Marta yelling out, “I thought we had her for another week!”

“Nah, that won’t do. Too many people asking about her in the States, Hector needs her at the hotel so her conditioning as he called it can begin!”

It happened so fast, the females briefly exchanging goodbyes, the shock of the moment escalating as the women were told before loading Yolanda into the large dirty truck, “I hate to tell you this but Hector wants her naked. Trust me; I’m not crazy about it either.”

Soon the naked Yolanda was helped into the back of the truck; it took all four of them to haul her inside. A tall stout fella handed Marta a paper bag filled with cash, “Hector will make sure you get a supplement if he approves of your work.”


The women watched the truck disappear into the distance, Marta finally sharing a thought with Rosaria, “You think we should have charged Hector by the pound?”

Rosaria shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know, maybe. She was 321-pounds when she was weighed the other day.”


_______________


The truck pulled in backwards into the huge garage adjacent to the Rivera hotel.

The driver jumped out of the cab and along with his partner hoisted the metal door upward.

“Here’s the delivery boss!” the driver said to Hector, his voice hoarse through years of smoking and drinking neat liquor.

Hector was a well groomed man; his appearance actually resembled the stereotypical hotel manager rather than a notorious criminal. Silver hair with a few streaks of black, mildly hard looking but with a smile that could be described as genteel. Built like a linebacker, Hector was garbed in a checkers dress shirt with black tie and tan slacks.


With a knowing smile he subsequently banged his fist against the side of the truck, “Okay, senorita, were here!”

Hector was eager to see what Yolanda looked like; Marco had sent him a photograph and described her as a female whose beauty had no rivals. Without doubt the year since rooming with the women had changed all that.


The heavyset young woman emerged unto the back of the truck, the driver and his assistant grumbled as they helped her off what could be called a cattle car.
“Damn! I hope I don’t get a hernia!”

She loudly sighed as her feet hit the pavement with a thunderous sound, her hips and belly quivering as they did. Yolanda blinked several times as her eyes became accustomed to the bright light of the afternoon.

Yolanda’s eyes finally converged with Hector’s eyes and she dropped her head while flinging an arm over her breasts for modesty sake.

Hector gazed at Yolanda like she was livestock, scrutinizing her size and appearance.
The women were very productive with their guarantee which satisfied Hector; Yolanda’s face did look genuinely fat and dumpy.

“Those women deserve a bonus!” Hector told his men, his voice sounding triumphant, “This heifer is bigger than I expected!” he added as he patted Yolanda’s butt.
“Marco sure got his money’s worth!” Hector concluded as he turned away.

Hector waved on his right hand man, “Where’s the picture…”
Lazlo, a small rat like character, handed Hector a snapshot of Yolanda taken two years previous.

“This look like the same girl to you?” asked Hector.

Lazlo glimpsed the photograph and then Yolanda, resuming another look at the photo.
“Could be, there is a little resemblance”, Lazlo replied coldly.
Hector smirked, “A little? There’s nothing little about that…that cow!”

There was some laughter from the men, Hector only grinned.

“You and a couple guys take her out back where it’s private and hose her down; I don’t want her stench in my hotel! She smells like a barnyard.

Lazlo agreed, Hector continuing, “Find a tarp or bed sheet to cover up all that lard, and then get Pilar, she’ll know what to do.”

Hector reviewed the photo, finally speaking to Yolanda.

“Marco says you were a real ball buster, brainy too, and attractive, huh?”
Hector again glanced over the photograph, “I agree, you were a real spicy tomato.”

Yolanda swerved her eyes away from Hector, “Yes….I was….”

Hector began speaking to Yolanda in a civil manner, “You were a bookkeeper at a factory, going to school, you had a lot going on. Dated a lot too.”

Yolanda brought her eyes back unto Hector and slowly nodded, “I had boyfriends, guys liked me, but I was too involved with my studies to start a real relationship.”

Hector addressed Yolanda akin to a wannabe Romero, affable grin, liberal body language, “That a fact. I guess that makes sense, a beautiful woman and a smart one would put college before romance. She’ll always have studs around; finishing school is real classy and sensible.”

Yolanda impulsively cracked an elusive smile, “Thanks, but all that seems meaningless now.”

Hector’s demeanor immediately changed, a venomous caliber of antagonism in his voice.
“Meaningless is too optimistic! This time next month you’ll be jealous of lowlifes because they’ll always have a chance to improve themselves.”

Yolanda blinked, Hector cruelly snickered, “Simple mathematics will be a challenge for you, you’ll be scrubbing toilets and floors, feeling privileged to so because that’s all you’re capable.”

Yolanda lowered her eyes, sighing between nervously snorting.

“You’ll be domesticated. Count on it! Outrageously tame and passive, the peasant mindset embed in your mind!”

Yolanda winced as Hector coldly surveyed her body, “When you return to Los Angeles I really doubt any sane mane will want to be involved with you. You look like a human garbage disposal.”

Hector then chuckled, “Well if there’s one bright spot, at least you can eat as much as you like!
Nobody’s going to give a damn, you’re already a jumbo, I’m going to need to have a uniform especially made for you!”



___________


Out in back, on the other side of the parking lot’s wall, Hector’s men hosed Yolanda down, all the while laughing and making snide remarks.

“I thought my mother in law was fat!”
“What’s wrong? I thought whales like water!”

Afterward Yolanda was tossed a beach towel which hardly covered her body.

The men still making uncouth comments pertaining to Yolanda, finally becoming quiet when Pilar showed up.

Pilar Estrada, upper twenties, dark hair in an upward style, her lean figure professionally attired in a red blouse and gray skirt.

“No mistake, you’re Yolanda.”

Yolanda simply glared at Pilar.

Pilar cleared her throat, “You answer me, you show me respect. And you always call me Senorita Estrada.”

Yolanda sniffled, “I’m Yolanda.”

Pilar softly applauded Yolanda, “Very good. You’re not as uncivilized as you look. You’re hungry, right?”

Yolanda nodded, “Yes, yes Senorita Estrada.”

“No big surprise there, right? Before feeding time you need to get a physical, we don’t want you hurt the first day on the job. From the looks of you, you’d use that as an excuse to lay around all day. Now get up and follow me.”

It took Yolanda a couple minutes to remove herself off the ground, trying to cover her body with the ill-fitting beach towel, she whined, “I need clothes, I can’t cover myself with this…”

“Did I say anything about getting dressed?” Pilar sternly questioned.
“No, I don’t believe I did. Let’s get a move on it blimp!” Pilar subsequently snapping her fingers.

Yolanda held the towel over the front part of her body, her naked ass and thighs exposed, waddling as fast as possible behind Pilar who insensitively inquired, “How does it feel going from attractive to fat?”

Yolanda sighed, knowing full well not answering could result in some hostile treatment, “I hate it!”

Pilar brought Yolanda deep into the hotel’s basement which had several corridors, taking a path down a long hall; they finally reached a small room where Hector sat at a table with a bottle of tequila and a package of cigarettes.

Hector pointed to an adjacent room, “Doc’s in there. Don’t worry, he’s not a vet.”

Pilar needed to shove Yolanda into the direction of the other room, none too gently.
“The doctor’s expecting you!”

Yolanda entered the room where the doctor waved her in, “Shut the door please.”

The doctor looked more like a butcher than a legitimate physician, balding brownish-gray hair, five o’clock shadow, messily clothed in a button down shirt, tails out, and wrinkled slacks.
A stocky man, he introduced himself as Doctor Hugo Evans.

Yolanda shut the door, turning as the doctor was rolling up his sleeves, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

Dr. Evans recognized Yolanda was uncomfortable, stepping forward; he put her mind to ease.
“Don’t worry; this is just a general physical, no shenanigans from me.”
“Anyway, you’re not my type…”, Doctor Evans said while adjusting his glasses and looking Yolanda over, “by a 100-pounds or so..”, he added under his breath while removing the towel from her hands.

Dr. Evans nodded a couple times as he studied Yolanda’s body.
“You don’t get out much, little physical activity; you have a grand appetite, a fondness for sweets…” Doctor Evans spoke frankly, Yolanda was sure the doctor was unaware of his ignorance.

“You have a name?”

Yolanda pushed away her bangs, the doctor reeling back at the puffiness of her upper arm.
“I’m Yolanda, didn’t they tell you that?”

Dr. Evans didn’t reply, instead he asked if she had a nickname.

“I was called Yolie when I was a little girl..”

The doctor held back his giggle, coughed a couple times, then smiled, “Yolie? Ah, roly-poly Yolie. That has a cute sound, right?”

Yolanda was more shocked than insulted, what kind of doctor was this?

From there it was a routine examination, all but the unsolicited commentary Dr. Evans seemingly couldn’t resist.
“If your boss didn’t mention it, I would think you’ve never been thin….”
“…..you know your metabolism is out of whack since getting fat, right? I mean to say get used to being big,”

Finally the examination concluded for the most part, waving Yolanda on, the doctor instructed Yolanda to lean over the table.
“Push your butt out for me; I need to give you a shot.”

Yolanda snorted a frazzled sigh, complying but questioning, “What for?”

Dr. Evans mumbled while coating Yolanda’s heavy duff with alcohol, “Oh I’m a psychiatrist, not a medical doctor, but um, I need to make sure you’re mentally competent for your work.”

“I’m walking and talking..” Yolanda grumbled, “…Isn’t that…”
The doctor inserted the needle into Yolanda’s beefy buttock, causing her to snap, “OW!”

The doctor dropping the syringe unto the table, lighting another cigarette as he advised Yolanda to take a seat.

The chair wasn’t very big, dwarfed by Yolanda’s mammoth size, her humongous belly settling over her especially expansive thighs.

Dr. Evans cupped the side of Yolanda’s face, the buttery tissue rather squishy.
“So you were a knock out, a skinny sassy smart girl.”

Yolanda shot Dr. Evans an infuriated glare from her eyes.

“You’ll return to America a big ol fatty and not much of an IQ to brag about”, Doctor Evans sardonically smiled.

Yolanda opened her mouth to speak, which expanded her whopper of a double chin, a modest stream of drool substituted for her thoughts.

Doctor Evans smirked, “Now let us begin….”



__




Hector and Pilar sat sipping the tequila and smoking cigarettes, waiting for the doctor to finish Yolanda’s evaluation.

Not more than a half hour later the chamber door opened, Dr. Evans joining them at the table.

“You got me just in time, I’m boarding a plane this evening, got me a job at this women’s mental health facility…”

“On with it doctor”, Hector groused, trying to keep his cool, “Is she okay for menial labor?”

“Well you’re aware I’m not a medical doctor, but then again, that’s why you hired me.”

Dr. Evans chuckled before continuing, “She’s healthy enough for a big girl, blood pressure is a little high but nothing radical. I think she’s strong enough for cleaning and that type of work.”

Dr. Evans gestured to the bottle, “May I?”

Hector nodded, Dr. Evans proceeded to pour himself a drink, speaking while lighting a cigarette, “I have no idea how much she weighs, you didn’t furnish me with a scale. I’m guessing around 300-pounds, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s a bit heavier. I’ll tell you this, she ain’t going to get smaller”, the doctor added with a chuckle.

Pilar buzzed with an inquisitive smirk, “What about mentally?”
Hector anxiously spoke up before Dr. Evans could reply, “She was a brainy babe, high maintenance too, back in Los Angeles. I don’t want her like that when I ship her back. Is she a moron or what?”

Dr. Evans peered over his glasses, “I wouldn’t identify her as a moron…”

Hector was losing his patience, “She used to be a bookkeeper and college student, what about that!”

“Oh, no. No question, she’s not college material any longer, I made sure of that. That’s what you’re paying me for, right? To rewire her head so to speak, brainwashing as my colleagues would call it”

“Go on”, Hector said grimly.

“We’re not called head shrinks for nothing you know, and that’s just what I did.”

The Doctor engaged in another sip, wiping off his lips with his shirt sleeve.
“I sternly reinforced the notion that her weight reflects her personality, big girls are inferior in looks and brains, and that she can’t compete with beautiful women. Being a housekeeper is the only suitable option she has in earning an income. Now about being high maintenance, not anymore. No, she’s completely unpretentious. You see, her weight will influence her cognitive thoughts.”

“What does that mean?” Hector asked.

Again the doctor chuckled, “It means she’s a relatively docile young woman. Being hefty has changed her attitude; she’s a humble if not thoroughly passive.”

Pilar poured the doctor another drink, “Then she has no confidence?”

“Wiped cleaned”, Dr. Evans said between sips, “She’s what you might call emotionally insecure.”

The doctor stood up, slowly removed his glasses and wiped his eyes, “It’s my professional opinion she’s going to have to deal with some serious humiliation and rejection once back in Los Angeles. She’s not the same woman anymore.”

“That be all then”, Hector informed the doctor, slipping his hand into his pocket, handing Dr. Evans an envelop with cash. “American money, you did okay, doc. Thanks.”

Doctor Evans bestowed Hector a clumsy salute, “You’re welcome, amigo. I’m going to collect my things, be on my way.”

“Just a minute”, Hector interrupted Dr. Evans on route the other room.
Digging into a duffle bag, he tossed Dr. Evans a dress, “Have her put this on, if you don’t mind.”

Dr. Evans nodded, thus completing his excursion into the adjacent room.

__


“Okay, Yolie, I spoke with your bosses.”

Yolanda yawned a couple times, the doctor throwing her the spacious housedress, “Make yourself presentable, get dressed in this.”

Yolanda didn’t bother inspecting the dress, a plain uninviting garment, barely big enough to fit her.
Moving in slow motion, Yolanda released a jaded sigh upon squeezing into the tight material.

Dr. Evans walked over to Yolanda, delicately wiping away her bangs, “You could stand to lose a couple hundred pounds but that won’t be happening. Too bad though, you could quite possibly be pretty without all this blubber.”

Yolanda ambiguously gazed at the doctor, grunting something inaudible.

Dr. Evans backed away, gathering his things; he then abandoned Yolanda to the empty room.

__

It was Lazlo who walked into the room within a minute of the doctor leaving, “We’ll get you some food, take you upstairs and out the back later. The boss is setting up some quarters for you as we speak.”

Yolanda shook her head, forgoing eye contact, “Thank you…”, her warble unconventionally milquetoast.

__

Yolanda was given what amounted to table scrapes to eat but there was plenty. Water to drink, well-water which had a strong bitter taste.

Later Lazlo and another couple men ushered Yolanda out of the basement, once upstairs through the backdoor then down a long path to a moderately roomy shed positioned near a group of garage size bungalows where the servants lived.

“You’ll be living here while you’re working at the hotel”, Lazlo bluntly conveyed, “All the comforts of home, senorita! I have to lock you in overnight…”

As Yolanda entered the shed, she heard Lazlo slamming the door shut and locking it.
Only a pair of small windows provided some light, what she could make out was a single bed, a table and a chair. It was a dirt floor, no carpeting or anything else resembling standard civilization.
Yolanda covered her mouth, a tear trickled from eye.
Yolanda was inside a third world dwelling, trapped in a third world country, assigned a third world status and trade. It wasn’t apparent to Yolanda but she would return to Los Angeles a third world woman.

__________

[Junketh71]

This was really good. Thanks for posting.