The Changing Mirror

9.

~ TEN YEARS LATER ~

Unless privy to her true history, nobody would ever be convinced that the woman hanging out her wash wasn’t always a portly female specimen or an actual Caucasian American.


The neighbors within this patch of the Spanish slums knew her well; the heaviest Gonzales sister, the one who had no knowledge of the English language and never tarried out of their neighborhood.

Sasha kept her locks short these days, tied in a ponytail, a few strands of premature gray, her extraordinarily fat features hinting at a misleading Aztec heritage.
Doughy looking bulbous cheeks, puffy second chin, the third detectable while smiling.

Arms that resembled turkey thighs, practically slender forearms until the point where her upper arms mushroomed into a gob of cushy fat. The Spanish style housedress was second hand, bought at the indoor flea market, she was too poor to buy off the rack clothing, tightly clung to her figure, broadcasting all of her 377-pounds.

Sasha had become pigeon-breasted; her hefty knockers nestled over her undeniably corpulent belly.
There was a blubbery consistency to Sasha’s waist, the largest roll two inches thick, the expanse of her hips announced the tremendously mind staggering size of her enormous butt which bulged over her elephantine thighs.

Sasha’s obesity was a non-issue for her, having four children, two back to back, she had willingly conformed to a culture where it was quite natural to blow up like a balloon, and her fondness for fattening Mexican cuisine a likewise culprit, especially sweets which didn’t do her teeth any favors as well.

Jose was as affectionate and attentive as ever, though at times he did wish she wasn’t that heavy but by now he was used too Sasha’s tubbiness.

Sasha wrangled what clothes that had dried off the clothes line, neatly folding them and placing them into a round bushel basket that she positioned over her flab insulated hip and started her waddle into her home.

They lived in a first floor - rent controlled - apartment down the street from Rosa Gonzales.
Fairly spacious but humble in terms of furniture and fixtures, even the refrigerator was at least two decades old. Sasha had gotten used to the poor plumbing and the occasional cockroach.

Despite Jose working full time at the factory and part time Friday and Saturday evenings at an auto repair shop, they had very little cash to splurge on conveniences she once took for granted.
Sasha hadn’t bought makeup in five years and the little jewelry she had was cheap trinkets.
Albeit there was always food on the table and her children had clothes and toys, and for this Sasha was completely happy and content.

Sasha dropped the wash off on the laundry machine and made tracks toward the kitchen, briefly checking on her children before making dinner - Jose preferred dinner the moment he arrived home from work. Not that Sasha minded it but lassoed into the culture necessitated her status as the submissive member in their relationship. Sasha was obligated to have meals ready at a fixed time, needed permission when she wanted to go to the market and visit her friends.
Jose chose what they watched on TV, managed the cash, and required Sasha too consistently wait on him. Sasha held no animosity, she appreciated Jose who was never petty toward her, never insulted her, and made love to her like a young buck. Every once in a while Jose would show his appreciation toward his woman, occasionally buying her flowers or letting her finish the final portion of pie or ice cream.

Despite the challenges of poverty the union between the couple was blissful and positive.



Sasha fed their children first; all were home with the exception to their eldest daughter Yolanda who was spending the night over by the original Yolanda’s cousin Raquel’s home. In their close nit circle, their daughters were close friends.

Raquel had married a big shot accountant and lived in a middle class neighborhood; Sasha hoped her daughter’s excursions out of the slums might inspire her to make something of herself.

_ As for Raquel, she had become the stereotypical soccer mom, chubby to a reasonable extent, a member of the school board and volunteered at every school event, her disposition absolutely perky and charitable. _

Dinner would be baked chicken and a macaroni with beans dish, miniature tomatoes on the side, Sasha consumed a cheese sandwich and pork sausages along with the chicken, her appetite held no bounds.


An hour later Jose arrived home, Sasha greeted him with a beer and a kiss in that order, their bellies merging, and despite his reservations at times due to her size, he thought her belly outmatching his was cute.

Sasha served Jose his dinner, fixing his plate before joining him at the table where she nibbled on another piece of chicken and more sausages.

Sasha released her locks from the ponytail, her husky upper arm owning a pronounce jiggle, subsequently pushing her plate aside, folding her hands over the table.

Um, you know Saturday evening there’s the get together at Elena’s”, Sasha tilted her head in a passive mode, “You don’t mind if I go? We can go together, no?”

Jose swallowed a generous mouthful of beer, his reply to the point, “Fine by me but I’m hanging out with Jimmy that night, we have poker game going on, you’ll have to get Monica to watch the kids.”

Jose had formed a friendship with his co-worker, Natalie’s husband; he was now a member of his usual Saturday evenings barbecues.

Sasha acknowledged Jose with smile, “Yes, I think Monica won’t mind looking after the kids.”

Monica Hernandez was essentially their on call nanny for whenever Sasha needed to go shopping or a visit with friends. Nearly twenty-one, Monica was originally a statuesque beauty when she was introduced to Sasha and happily engaged in babysitting but Sasha showed her affection with food, preparing Monica all types of homemade sweets, resulting in a 95-pound weight gain over a duration of four years.

Sasha’s belly quivered as she edged herself up from the table, “I’ll call Monica now, make sure it’s okay.”

Jose shook his head, likewise standing up, “I’m going to watch TV, bring me a beer when you’re done.”

Sasha agreed with a smile.


__


Sasha brought Jose his beer, sharing the news that Monica would look after the kids for them Saturday.

Jose patted the couch’s cushions, “Wash the dishes later, watch the show with me.”

Sasha pushed back her wilted locks, “Okay, first though I want to call Yolanda. I’d want to see if she can persuade Elsa to join us at Elena’s, she does hang out with a bad crowd.”

“Oh call Yolie later, sit with your man”, Jose said between sips of beer.

Sasha concurred, snuggling up to Jose, rubbing his large gut, though she needed to convey, “I so hope Elsa can be influenced by us, fine a nice man and settle down. She’s at breeding age…”

A comical smirk reached Jose’s face, “Elsa’s been breeding age!” he faintly chuckled.

“I’m worried about her, we all are”, Sasha replied yet her bubbly candor intact; “All she does is lay around all day, eating and drinking and smoking pot. If she doesn’t watch out, she’s going to get so big no man’s going to want her!”

Jose fleeting gazed at Sasha’s humongous belly, the blubbery spherical shaped dome which advanced far away from her heavy duty breasts, “I wouldn’t worry, I’m attracted to you and look what you’re packing!”

Sasha answered Jose with to a smooch to his lips, “Ay, but how many men have your class!”



_________________

Got to admit - they make a nice couple!

A sweet chapter. . .

Yolanda had an opposing relationship with Randy in comparison to Sasha and Jose; she was the dominant member in their union.

Yolanda had married Randy, gained custody of the boy she had with Marco, and had an additional two children, another son and a daughter.

The couple remained situated in the trailer park, Randy still employed at the factory and Yolanda worked four evening a months as a cleaning woman for the indoor flea market.

Yolanda wore her hair long, recently dyed to an ash blond hue, and wore makeup more often than not.
No longer hindered or embarrassed by her weight, Yolanda dressed conservatively but fashionable, though it could be a challenge weighing in at 424-pounds.

Yolanda’s features had radically fattened yet remained charming in a well-fed peasant category, blubbery cheeks and a pudgy double chin over a third. The expanse to Yolanda’s breasts corresponded appropriately with her enormous belly, a billowy bulge over a much more spacious ocean of belly fat. There was a distinct chunkiness to Yolanda’s waist and an abnormal spread to her hips while her posterior and thighs were literally colossal.
Yolanda’s hindquarters had a buttery quality, pushing away from her body, especially swollen and bubble shaped, dynamically in unison with the squishy caliber of her humongous thighs.

Randy wasn’t at all put off that his mate outweighed him, and it wasn’t out of the ordinary that he would bring home all sorts of snacks for the love of his life.

Yolanda was a champion homemaker, keeping their trailer clean, making satisfactory meals and the regular housewife business. However, Yolanda managed the money, giving Randy an allowance, and if he was to visit his pals, her permission was necessary. On that note, the whole trailer park community thought the best of Yolanda.
Yolanda would look after their kids, help out when certain chores needed to be done, furnished their bonfires with beer and junk food, and even shared her wisdom with the younger females in their crowd.
Yolanda’s ability in English improved, although she obviously needed to converse with Sasha in Spanish, she kept in touch with her sisters and cousin Raquel and was accepted by Randy’s folks and other kin.

Yolanda’s friendship with Elsa was a convoluted matter. Despite being best friends, the whole aristocratic / servant relationship had all been forgotten, Elsa mainly socialized with a group of lowlifes and never-do-wells. Yolanda sensed Elsa’s poor self-esteem had a major impact, although her family was very well off, her behavior reflected a tortuous outcast.


__



Yolanda had put the kids to bed and approached Randy who was in the front room playing a video game. The checkered patterned blue and gray hooded T-shirt and sweat slacks of a turquoise hue illustrated her girth in a flattering manner. An optimistic attitude that feminine beauty comes in all shapes and sizes highlighted in her sparkling eyes and her catlike gait which abound in her approach.

Yolanda’s voice crisp and sensual, “Thirty more minutes, darling, I’m going to change into something much more appropriate for bedtime.”

“It’s only 9:30.…” Randy began to say but familiar with her personality, when Yolanda said something there was no barter, “….okay, babe.”

“That’s my guy”, Yolanda chirped, pushing up her mane and rolling her hips, although Randy was too absorbed with the game to notice.

Yolanda arched her back and teasingly giggled while massaging the back of Randy’s head with her chubby boobs, “You up to giving me a full body massage?”

“I noticed the lotion in the bathroom…” Randy playfully added, “Careful, honey, those big jugs should be listed as lethal weapons!”

Yolanda answered by gently bouncing them against the side of his face, her snicker vastly erotic, “Nobody knows better than you….”

Randy chuckled, “Please! I can’t concentrate on my game!”

“If you made love to me as well as you play those games I’d be one very pleased woman!” Yolanda humorously announced.

“If you were as exciting as the games, you‘d be totally pleased”, Randy lobbed right back, naturally Yolanda knew he was joking.

Yolanda giggled, her chunky upper arms quivering as she briefly secured Randy’s head, pushing his head into her voluptuous breasts, “You think?”

Releasing Randy’s head, Yolanda mimicked her former streetwise shenanigans, gesturing with her hands and rolling her expansive doughy hips, “Ah, white boy couldn’t survive Yolanda’s excitement, need hospital afterward, all the ruckus be too much!”

“Honey!” Randy chuckled, “I thought you were getting ready for bed!”

A cute dimpled smile formed over Yolanda’s moon shaped face, “Ay Crumba! Okay, mister but you sure to be in bedroom by 9:31! Yolanda expects some pretty good loving!” she giggled.

___



Randy had no qualms in regards too Yolanda’s weight outmatching his and beyond double digits.
Randy admired the whole package and considered Yolanda thoroughly attractive. Yolanda’s sentiments corresponded to his, after all, Randy was a scrawny dude but he was the real deal in everything she desired in a mate. Randy was an affectionate, generous lover which brought out the best in Yolanda. In many ways Yolanda had succeeded in her goals; the trailer park community where they lived was 95% Caucasian, she was out of the Spanish slums, and had a fantastic career going on as a professional housewife. Yolanda had no regrets, even her abnormal tubbiness didn’t bother her all that much, after all there was no fighting heredity, her figure would have eventually blossomed sooner or later.


___



At sunup Yolanda made Randy a conventional breakfast while their kids remained asleep.
Yolanda’s breakfast was anything but conventional; she had hot dogs, cheese and ice cream, plus a 2 liter of cola and coffee.

While the couple consumed their meals, their weekend agenda was discussed.

“…..I got time to visit my mom and Aunt Esmeralda before getting ready for Elena’s party…” Yolanda told Randy.

Randy was likewise a member of Yolanda’s brother in law’s posse and he respectfully differed on her plans, “Yeah, um, if you don’t mind, could I skip Elena’s party this Saturday, I’m supposed to play poker with the guys.”

Just for fun, Yolanda dramatically grimaced, her eyebrows crinkling along with her pudgy nose, “Playing poker is more important than escorting your wife to a friend’s party?”

Randy squirmed in his chair, the result Yolanda found very amusing, “I went last time and was a little bored, almost everyone talks Mexican…”

Yolanda sighed then giggled, “That’s fine, it’s cool. At least though stop in to say hello to Elena and Rosa when you drop me off, they’re both fond of you.”

Randy acknowledged Yolanda with a big smile, “Of course I will, I like them too.”

Yolanda’s face took on a melancholy expression, “I have to call Elsa, I hope she’ll be there, she really made a mess of her life.”

“I know, all that potential down the drain but her daddy‘s well-off….”, Randy said, exiting his chair and peddling over to Yolanda, “…..and the last time we saw Elsa, she seemed happy.”

Randy coast his fingertips along Yolanda’s forearm, edging his face toward Yolanda’s, planting a kiss on her lips.

“How can she be happy being a lazy slug, she used to run the entire hotel operation?” Yolanda cantankerously asked.

Randy playfully tapped Yolanda’s buttery belly bulge, “I don’t know. Call her and invite her, hopefully she’ll make the party.”

Yolanda seized Randy’s shoulders, pulling him into her soft, squishy body, she smiled, “Te Amo con todo mi Corazon…”



__________

This was very cute. Thanks for posting!

Muriel Kent walked out onto the patio, immensely disgusted by the messy condition of the deck and the corpulent young woman surrounded by a heap of trash while napping on a recliner.

Blond hair in an upward professional style, beauteous and then some, her svelte figure in regal business attire. The 28-year old Muriel was the new operations director for the Stardust Hotel but was likewise assigned to supervise Elsa while her parents were vacationing in Europe.


Empty Doritos bags and cola bottles littered the environment along with candy wrappers and toss about sticks from the numerous ice cream bars she had consumed.

Muriel indignantly wagged her head, subsequently calling out to Elsa, “Alright, rest time is over!”

Elsa cracked open an eye, “Is it time for dinner?”

“You had dinner already”, Muriel firmly stated.

“My dad and mom aren’t back?” Elsa grimaced.

Muriel’s hands fell to her slim waist, “For the 10th time already, your parents won’t be back until Thursday.”

Elsa screeched a giggle, “Then order me a pizza!”

“I’m not your servant and dinner was 4 hours ago!” Muriel rifled back.

“That wasn’t dinner…” Elsa groused, “…a salad and broiled chicken ain’t dinner food. I want pizza!”

Muriel softly gazed at Elsa, uttering not a single word until she cooled down.

Muriel wasn’t all that familiar with the earlier version of the former operations director back when Elsa’s beauty easily rivaled her own. Muriel had seen photographs of the astute and attractive, perky and confident Elsa; it was hard to believe this was the same woman.

Elsa’s hair had reverted back to its natural dark brown hue, short and slicked back yet curling at the lower region of her neck, emphasizing the chubbiness of her face.

Elsa’s skin was blotchy and had a rubbery composition due to the fatty tissue, the eloquence of her beauty unconditionally tamed, her gluttonous activity denoting features that were cute but nondescript.

The beach style dress was a cool greenish-blue color; Elsa conceded to her burgeoning figure and thus hadn’t worn a bathing suit in years. Elsa’s billowy breasts positioned over a bulging enormity of belly fat which coincided with the expanse of her especially roomy hips while her thighs had mushroomed in chunkiness, encased in doughy flab the expanse utterly mind numbing while her bloated hindquarters protruded away from her body.

“You’re to clean up this patio and then shower”, Muriel addressed Elsa as if she was speaking to an underling, “Then see me indoors, I have some news for you.”

Elsa’s buttery thighs quivered as she maneuvered slowly into an upright position on the recliner, “we got maids, let em’ clean up this mess.”

“I will not have the maids pick up after you, it’s your mess, you do it”, Muriel replied.

Elsa cradled her belly, her fingertips obscured by the intense blubber, “Than can I have pizza?”

Muriel moved in closer to Elsa, “Your parents have you on a strict diet which means no pizza….”

Muriel roared into Elsa‘s face, “…. I can understand losing weight can be difficult but unless you apply some initiative, you’ll never lose a pound! Get yourself together and develop some willpower!”

“Muriel”, Elsa screeched, “I don’t want to diet, girls like me are fat, I wish people would understand that.”

“I don’t know what the hell that means”, Muriel flexed her eyebrows, “Just get your ass in gear, clean up the patio and then see me after you shower.”

“My parents wouldn’t like you talking to me like this!” Elsa sulkily grumbled.

“Oh would they?” Muriel’s grin surprisingly ambiguous, “I’ll be in your dad’s study.”

And with that Muriel marched inside the luxurious mansion.



__________



Elsa didn’t pick up after herself or shower; instead she ambled into the kitchen for a quick snack of pop tarts and milk.

Elsa’s waddle was tremendously clumsily, mainly corrupted by the sheer size of her thunder thighs, her amply inflated rump swinging from side to side.


Fifteen minutes later Elsa met up with Muriel in her dad’s study where she was knee deep in paperwork.

Muriel’s frown appeared overly dramatic, “Let me guess, since you didn’t shower, neither did you clean up the patio.”

Elsa plopped down on the expensive chair directly in front of her dad’s desk, her gooey belly fat jiggling, glaring at Muriel with distain, “You talk to me like I’m a servant or naughty child, I don’t like it.”

“I don’t like how you fail too appreciate your family’s business and your lax attitude toward your obligations”, Muriel began to say, her posture taking on an authoritarian mode, “Let’s meet this head on, I won’t tolerate laziness.”

“Stay out of my life, okay!” Elsa squawked.

“It’s not okay!” Muriel disagreed.
“Your dad had you banned from the hotel not only because of your incompetence but because you began socializing with undesirables….”

Elsa squinted in anger as she interrupted Muriel, “I hung out with the kitchen staff, they ain’t bad people coz they’re poor, my dad’s uppity attitude is bullshit!”

Muriel cheekily answered, “It isn’t the poverty those kitchen people struggle through, your dad wants to protect you from their outside connections, they’re the dregs of society and he is afraid they would be a bad influence on you.”

Elsa huffily protested, “So what! I don’t fit in with my other friends; these people show me respect and are cool with me!”

“Not fitting in with your other friends proves your dad’s point”, Muriel sternly addressed Elsa, “You regularly smoke dope, hang out with thugs and date leeches, and you’re on a downward spiral. Unless you get smart, you’re going to end up living in the slums and having several mouths to feed.”

“My dad wouldn’t see me living in the slums, he’d always help me out”, Elsa droned.

“Bravo! You’re on target”, Muriel’s cheerfulness in her reply caught Elsa by surprise.
“What do that mean?” Elsa uttered as she adjusted her blubbery cocoon form in the chair.

“It means your dad has tired of you taking him for granted, he’s cutting off your allowance and wants you out of his house until you’re ready to live up to your potential and lose weight.”

Elsa’s jaw dropped, “What! That’s crazy!”

Muriel stood up and walked over to Elsa, handing her a copy of the E-mail sent earlier in the day, “Read it, Elsa. It’s all here.”

Elsa stuttered while latching one hand to her thick belly roll, “This…sez…says I’m to work for you as your….m…m…m…maid until I learn discipline…and…lose one hundred pounds!”

“Your dad is very generous to me”, Muriel chirped, “Obvious due to my rigorous responsibilities at the hotel I warrant help at home and somebody to look after my needs. So as of Monday you’re my live in maid, on duty 24-hours a day, five days a week, making medium wage.”

“Medium wage?” Elsa snorted, “I can’t survive on medium wage!”

Muriel smiled, “That’s around One hundred and fifty dollars a week but room and board is included, I know the grocery bill will be ridiculous with you moving in.”

“Shit”, Elsa mumbled, “Now I really need a pizza!”

Muriel folded her arms over her lovely breasts, “That brings up another point. As the E-mail reads, you’re to lose weight. I won’t pressure you to diet or work out, that’s up to you. Your dad hopes that being around me will motivate you. I have closets full of stylish clothes and you’ll occasionally see me in a bikini. My friends all have marvelous figures and I date the cutest country club types who are naturally dismissive to fat Mexican housekeepers.”

“I don’t feel bad about being fat or Mexican or doing housework…” Elsa squeaked.

“Under my watch you will”, Muriel conveyed, “As long as you behave like an inferior species of female that’s how you’ll be treated. You’re to call me Miss. Kent, and obey my orders. Maybe then you’ll manage to recover your self-esteem and pride.”

“I have pride in my race!” Elsa snapped.

“No you don’t”, Muriel giggled, “Your dad said you weren’t interested in your Mexican roots until you were kidnapped ten years ago. You’re using this pride in your make believe heritage as an excuse to be fat!”

Elsa swerved her body, her big hips wedged in the armrests, “I don’t have to listen to this, I’m going to have Rhonda order me a pizza!”

“You’re stuck, aren’t you?” Muriel questioned, adding with a comical smirk, “How much do you weigh?”

“Just help me out”, Elsa pouted.

Muriel secured her hands to Elsa’s forearms and slowly rocked her upward. Elsa’s belly bouncing off Muriel’s sleek body.

“Watch it with that thing!” Muriel vehemently stated as if the fat was contagious.

Elsa’s bulging gut propelled forward in distinct roundness, gravity bestowing a modest downward slant, “I’m sorry if my inferior figure is that obnoxious”, she sarcastically rattled off.

A catty smile flew upon Muriel’s face but before she could comment, they were interrupted by Rhonda who was the head of the household housekeeping staff.

“There’s a pair of black guys at the door to see Miss Elsa.”

Elsa smiled, “That must be Julio and Pawn, they must have my weed…”

Muriel spoke over Elsa, telling Rhonda, “Send them away; Miss Elsa is going to abstain from pot for a while.”

“Yes ma’am”, Rhonda replied, Muriel’s tone becoming especially strict, “And tell them if they show up here again, we’ll call the police!”

Rhonda nodded, Muriel continued, “In about thirty minutes I’ll be through with the princess, please supervise her cleaning up the patio. Just supervise; I don’t want you helping her!”

Rhonda looked at Elsa and irreverently grinned, she had long tired of picking up after Elsa.
“As you wish, Miss Kent, and gladly”, Rhonda said before turning around and obeying her orders.

“Let that be a lesson to you, I expect you to behave in a similar fashion while you’re working for me”, Muriel noted.

Elsa resentfully grunted, “You have no right to send them away, I need weed, it helps me think…”

“That’s the exact reason why you’re not to smoke under my employment; it impairs your rational thinking!” Muriel replied.

Elsa rolled her eyes, firmly grasping her belly; she started to make tracks out of the room.

“We’re not done here!” Muriel yelled.

Elsa paused, swerving at her buttery wide hips, “I had enough, who made you my boss!”

Muriel happily reminded Elsa, “Your dad! You read the E-mail! Now sit back down, I have a couple more things to share with you.”

Elsa sniffled, “Dad’s really cutting off my allowance if I don’t agree to this stupid thing?”

“Yes, and didn’t you just say you don’t mind being a housekeeper?” Muriel inquired.

Elsa rubbed her eyes and nose, sighing in distress, “I’m Mexican, ain’t that what we do? That’s all I’m good for.”

Muriel placed her hand over her forehead, “If that’s what you believe, that’s how I’m going to treat you….”

“Now take a seat, Senorita”, Muriel pointed to the chair.

Elsa relinquished the thought of parking herself into the chair, getting wedged in it was embarrassing, thus she took a seat on the equally expensive sofa.

Muriel stood inches away from Elsa, “Tomorrow we’re going shopping so please if you can help it, be up by noon. We’re going to the Uniforms Are Us store on Sunset Strip. Dress presentable and I’ll cover lunch. Okay?”

“I guess but tomorrow evening I’m going to a friend’s party if that’s okay with you, mistress”, Elsa condescendingly gaped at Muriel.

“No, you’re not to socialize with those hoodlums and losers!” Muriel snapped.

Elsa prodded her beach ball shaped belly, “I was talking about my friend Yolanda and Elena in the Spanish neighborhood….”

Muriel shook her head in agreement, “Oh, well as long as you stay away from Avers Street I suppose its okay. Yolanda, isn’t that the girl who used to be your housekeeper when you ran the Stardust?”

Elsa half-smiled, “Yeah, but I treated her like a human being, not a wetback.”

“I’ll arrange a car to take you to this party and bring you back, is that reasonable to you?” Muriel stated, relaxing her attitude by a negligible margin.

“Thanks, my dad took away my car, so it does help…” Elsa awkwardly snorted, “…..about the uniform, can I pick it out?”

“No, I have a style and color already in mind, and since you’re not all that bothered by your size, I’ll inform you it isn’t at all flattering. By the way, how much do you weigh?”

“None of your business…” Elsa softly muttered while fleetingly glancing over her blubbery dome.

Muriel smiled, “Be a sport and tell me, I’m curious, okay? You’re not ashamed of being heavy, what’s the big deal?”

Elsa looked upward, the extravagance of her double chin on full display, and she scratched her flabby waist, “I’ll tell you only if I can have pizza.”

Muriel chuckled, “If you’re comfortable with the calories, by all means, I’ll order the pizza for you myself.”

Elsa tilted her head, “I haven’t weighed myself in a month but um, then I was 305-pounds.”

Muriel sighed, “I thought you were up around that much, but aren’t you even somewhat bothered by being so heavy? You’re still a young woman.”

“Years ago when I was vain, I did diet and worked out, I was chunky when I was a teenager, it was an awful experience. Though now I realize I can’t dismiss my culture and my genes, whatever it is, I’m meant to be chubby, it’s totally normal and I accept it. Please understand?”

“I understand that you’re an American, your parents, grandparents and great grandparents were born here”, Muriel said with some sensitivity, “You don’t have to be overweight.”

“I’ve gotten familiar with Spanish all these years working with the kitchen help and my friendship with the Gonzales sisters, I despise petty white woman who think appearances are everything, and I enjoy eating and don‘t care how much I eat, and I wish to embrace my culture, not ignore it. So can you please order me an extra large pizza with the works!”

“After you clean up the patio…” Muriel coolly answered, her expression wrought in seriousness, “…But for the final time I’m warning you, unless you watch your appetite and stop these mindless binges, you’re going to get fatter…”

Elsa flashed Muriel a wide, unambiguously cheery smile, “Such a big butterball maid you have then! Me tink youse get plenty embarrassed by your friends, no, Miss Kent!” she sounded off in a comical version of broken English.

Muriel sighed in aggravation, “Just remember you’ll get no empathy out of me, I’ll even point out your size every chance I get.”

Elsa knew Muriel wasn’t being mean, she was trying to use reverse psychology to help her to lose weight. However, the mechanics of Elsa’s mind had been drastically discombobulated in Mexico, despite her well-heeled background, years in college and, up until ten years prior, an exciting career, she saw herself as the stereotypical Mexican, oblivious to the fact she had literally become caricature.


____________



A short while later Elsa cleaned up her mess, sweeping the patio as well, being a domestic was her calling she truly believed, but most of all she was anxious about the pizza that would be there in 45-minutes to an hour.


_____________

This was interesting; thank you for the new piece!

Sheila had thus completely assimilated into the Mexican culture; there was no trace of the shrewd district attorney, as if she had born Sasha Gonzales, a tremendously overweight wetback who had not a qualm about living in the squalor of the Spanish slums.

These were her people; the working class poor, making by with very little but they had each other.

From Elena’s back porch, Sasha and Yolanda nibbled on a luscious Mexican variety cheesecake.
There were watching Elsa flirting with a couple younger guys, unaware she was asking them where she could buy some weed.

“She’s one of us now, no denying that”, Sasha said, using her fingers to guide a piece of cheesecake to her mouth, “Her poppa’s wealth has no influence on her, give it some time, someday she’ll be living here with us in a home with several children.”

“Funny isn’t it”, Yolanda replied in Spanish, Sasha’s knowledge of English in the tank.
“Funny?” Sasha squeaked a giggle, wedging the subsequent bite of cheesecake between her lips.
Yolanda secured a bite size portion in which too nibble, “Funny as in peculiar, strange. When we met Elsa was a classy society girl, beautiful figure and career. I was her maid, now she’s a maid, scrubbing the floors and cleaning the kitchen. She’s no better than us, what a shame.”

Sasha politely disagreed, “No shame in embracing her heritage, she doesn’t belong in the white world; even how she dresses shows she’s a pure Mexican. And have you noticed how fat she’s getting?”

Yolanda gobbled up an impressive chunk of cheesecake, “Elsa showed me a picture of her in her maid’s uniform. The most unflattering color of gray, no question she’s fuller figured.”

Sasha’s gigantic belly quivered as she giggled, “Oh don’t be diplomatic, she’s fat! Only aristocratic Mexican females have a right to be thin, she’s peasant stock; she’s going to get fatter!”

Yolanda discreetly gazed over at Elsa, her dark haired combed back, advertising her well-nourished features, modestly clad in K-Mart variety garments. Elsa’s ample breasts lounging over her billowy belly while a pudgy roll circled her waist, sloppily extending over the waistband of her faded blue jeans.

“Did you notice how Elsa wildly gorged when she first arrived, like she hadn’t eaten in a week!” Sasha boldly affirmed, “She has an unbridled appetite, and it doesn’t bother her because she’s aware she’s meant to be fat.”

Yolanda returned her eyes to Elsa, observing the guys backing away from her while she stood like a deer in the headlights.

Elsa’s full-size ghetto booty bobbled as she turned around, her chunky thighs brushing together on route back into the house.

Yolanda returned her attention to Sasha, who was greedily consuming the next bite, “Does it ever bother you? I mean, I know you’re a different woman now and are happy but you had a beautiful figure and prestigious life.”

Sasha smiled, “What? All I know is that I’m a Mexican, proud of my heritage, my family and friends. If it did bother me, I’m long over it.”

Yolanda giggled, poking at her spongy belly fat, “Be assured my friend, I feel the same way.”

Yolanda rocked herself out of the chair with a long drawn out sigh, her flabby form likewise jiggling.

The checkered blouse and black spandex slacks couldn’t masquerade Yolanda’s size, yet the clothes vaguely celebrated her mammoth figure.

“Once I was vain”, Yolanda elaborated on her remark, “But now I’m so used to being heavy, it’s like I’ve never been thin.”

Yolanda reached out and secured Sasha’s forearms, helping her friend out of her chair.
In similar fashion, Sasha’s traditional Mexican style housedress accentuated the blubbery aspect of her portly figure. Bloated upper arms and a conspicuously huge belly which sailed inches away from her chunky hips while her radically oversized hindquarters and thighs broadcast a squishy consistency.

Yolanda wiped away the crumbs which landed over her buttery cleavage, “Let’s see how Elsa’s doing”, she said, thinking the guys had rejected Elsa which was only partially correct. Albeit they didn’t fancy a maiden Elsa’s size, in truth they didn’t have any weed.

Sasha cradled her belly nodding with an affectionate smile, “Right, its a shame lots of young man are so superficial. We should find her a man, a nice, hardworking Mexican.”

Yolanda was quick to disagree, “Nice and hardworking fit’s the bill but I hardly think he has to be Mexican.”

Sasha peddled back her comment to a small degree, “I know Randy is good to you, and he’s a decent man but gringos are ignorant to our culture, she needs a Mexican.”

Yolanda held her hands to her hips, her apple cheeks filling up with her cute smirk, “Ignorant to our culture? You are aware that she grew up in Beverly Hills, until she befriended me, the only Mexicans she knew worked for her dad!”

Sasha shook her head, “No argument there but Elsa realized her real standing among the whites, isn’t she working as a maid? A Mexican husband would be a faithful companion and would influence her behavior in a correct and positive manner.”

“Whoa there!” Yolanda chuckled, “Maybe being the submissive partner works for you but it doesn’t have to be that way.”

Sasha humorously bickered, although her point was legit, “No, Yolie, in our culture it is right for the man to be in charge.”

The Gonzales stood off to side listening to Sasha and Yolanda’s conversation.
Elena turned to Rosa and gleefully whispered, “They sound just like us.”


___



Meanwhile Elsa made tracks to the banquet tables and began stuffing herself on chocolates and tamales. Sasha and Yolanda were soon by her side, enjoying an excessive quantity of food while perkily conversing.




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Elsa held one hand to her impressively bulbous belly while gnawing on whatever sample of Mexican cuisine was within her reach.

“You come visit me, I’ll teach you how to cook everything from scratch”, Sasha invited Elsa, “Mexican men run the house but the women rule the kitchen!”

Elsa reeled back her head, a little confounded by the comment.

Yolanda smirked in a cute manner, while nibbling on a chicken leg, “Sasha wants to make a housewife out of you”, she giggled.

“There’s no shame in that!” Sasha announced, fixing herself up a plate of chicken, rice and beans.

Elsa’s portly globe of belly fat broke in two sections as she bent over to secure a handful of Mexican pastries, “Thanks for looking out for me”, she said semi-sarcastically, “But I’m not quite marriage ready.”

“Ah, you need to get your mind straight, then”, Sasha exuberantly continued, “A woman needs to know her place, in our culture it’s important to look after a man and too breed. You’re breeding age.”

Yolanda kept quiet, enjoying another piece of chicken as Sasha lectured Elsa.

“Find a decent man, real men don’t mind their women heavy, they will admire you for not behaving like those silly white women who worry about their dress size. You’ll settle down, the pleasures of a domestic life is more rewarding than not.”

Yolanda discreetly looked over Sasha, the changes in appearance and behavior mind numbing.
However, they were positive, Sasha had been transformed into a stereotypical old world Mexican housewife, and despite the chaos of poverty and obesity, she was indeed a nicer, much more thoughtful woman.

Yolanda snuggled up against Sasha, a smile puffing up her cheeks too nearly double their size, “I do believe you’re more Mexican than me!”

Sasha struggled wrapping her arm around Yolanda’s billowy thick waist, happily concurring, “I know!”



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MEANWHILE SOMEWHERE IN MEXICO……


An unassuming little farm.

Rosaria was standing over the table, stirring a spoon in a large mixing bowl, Marta pulling fresh biscuits out of the oven.

Their kitchen held a sweet aroma which their captive could smell from her room.

“You see how big her thighs have gotten!” Marta chirped, “Swollen in fat, we’ll get our bonus for sure!”

Rosaria pushed back her graying bangs, “I declare she’s about ready for her momma to pick her up and then we can get busy for our next client, so too speak.”

“Yes, the guy from America, he wants his sweet step daughter rid of her vanity”, Marta brazenly remarked, “Supposed to be a health nut, has a YouTube channel about fitness.”

“I’ve seen them!” Rosaria’s smirk increasing as she spoke, “I can see why he wants her fattened up, she makes all kinds of nasty comments about out of shape girls.”

A shout came from the room not ten feet away from the kitchen, “Is dinner ready yet!”

“Hear that!” Rosaria chuckled, “And to think that beauty queen opposed our cooking when her momma first dropped her off!”

“Former beauty queen”, Marta said while on route to the room, “I hardly think she’ll win any crowns waddling around in a jumbo size bathing suit!”

The light from the kitchen reached the dark haired young woman as Marta opened the door.

Nearly 300-pounds, only a thin sheet canvassing her blubbery body, “I’m hungry, please, can I eat now?”

“Dinner won’t be ready for about an hour and half but I’ll toss you a few biscuits to keep your hunger at bay”, Marta sweetly smiled.

The young woman’s double chin expanded with her nod, a sliver of drool leaving her lips, “Thank you, Marta.”

Marta returned to the table, grabbing a few biscuits, humorously pointing out, “I remember when she fought us tooth and nail, calling us maniacs and scared about losing her taut figure.”

“Seems her priorities have changed, haven’t they!” Rosaria chirped, “Eating is more important then being thin!”

Marta concurred, “That’s what typically happens to our guests, once they surrender to their appetites, getting fat is no big deal!”


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This was good. Thanks for sharing!

Hello!

Classic elements of the craft to end this story. Well done.

A shame though that Marta and Rosaria are done as characters as they hardly would fit into another setting. I am going to miss this notorious pair.

Kind Regards!