Jasmine's Secret, Pt. 10 By JayTeeFa Watch

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Jasmine's Secret, pt. 10



3. Jumpy Playground



Jasmine Stuart knew that she weighed 115 pounds, but the image in the door-sized mirror of the walkway suggested to her something between 300 and 350 pounds. She was totally naked. Every time she returned home the first thing to do was close the curtains. Evil visions lurked out there, waiting for an unguarded moment. But she had nothing to fear this time.



She walked back and forth several times in front of her reflection, delighting her eyes with every bounce and the consequent ripples running untamed through her enlarged anatomy. "That's a lot of fat..." She repeated it twice.



The doorbell buzzed at the front entrance. A window glass breaking in a cathedral, a rush of blood to the face. Jasmine froze in the middle of her models walk, unsure what to do next. A second buzzing invaded her space. She moved slowly through the apartment and checked the source of this disturbance through the door peephole. Kate was walking back to her apartment next door, probably there out of a "Would you lend me something?" urging.



"Wow... Fatness!" Once the unexpected intruder situation was under control, the happiness returned to Jasmine's obese features. It was an amazing thing to

be so... overwhelming (was that the word?) Her never-ending cheeks had reached her double chin and replaced her neck's former location. It was like she didn't have one now. She was wrong in her initial calculations about body density. She wasn't weighing 300 or 350 pounds. The real number was broader: 406 pounds.



She also realized that a single walkabout for the apartment meant a supreme

effort for her. She went to the mirror walkway, then to the bathroom again -

and finally to the kitchen. When the "Mega-Sized Tour" was completed, she was

panting and gasping as if she had been running a marathon. "Ooof...You need

to... Phew! ...To lose some weight, Jasmine," she said to himself. "But not

now..."



She opened the fridge and extracted a two-pound ice cream cake. She had brought it a week ago, wishing to pig out on it, but she hadn't had the courage. Now it was the right time to amend some injustices of life. She took a spoon and a roll of kitchen handkerchiefs and headed to the living room's lounger. It cracked under her massive "four-hundreds," but she didn't care. She could buy another one if she wanted.



For the first time in years she felt no guilt about a non-stop binge. Soon the ice cream was gone, and Jasmine groaned satisfied. She moved her bulging hands to her belly area and started to rub the whole place. It felt so good. It appeared that her stomach capacity was still equal to her former frame. A spark of remorse crossed Jasmine's mind for an instant, but she immediately buried the feeling by concentrating in her new precious body and her rubbing procedure.



A bee stung her right in the ear. It was the phone ringing. Her heart jumped out of her chest. She was exactly 20 inches from the machine. "Damn...Now what?" She hesitated for a few seconds, and before the fourth ringing was complete she clutched the auricular. "Hello?"



"Hey, Jazz, it's Ra'shelle here..." The electronic voice of her best friend was on the end of the line.



"Rach, oh...Hi...What's up"



"Ready to kick ass, Executive! Friday night already! But...are you OK? You sound dizzy..." Ra'shelle inquired. It was obvious now that the pitch of Jasmine's voice sounded different from her soft pulpy throat instead of her usual neck.



"Oh, hum! Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that...You know...Maybe it's the ice cream I just ate. ...Hum," Jasmine assembled in her defense. Her voice sounded a lot more like a "circus-lady" pitch. She had been so amused with her body enlargement that shed missed this fact. "Or maybe I'm getting a cold... and..."



"Oh, ...darling! Shit!" It was Friday night, a sacred day for both friends. "Tonight - the night of nights? Dammit! Club's over then. I'll be there in a

sec. And what you were doing eating ice cream, anyway, you fat ass?"



"No, no, no... It's OK. Don't come up. I'll be just fine... You don't need-"



"Cut it out, you silly blob! I'm on my way... Are you thinking you might infect me with a cold or with your crappy mood? Can I get you anything, by the way?"

Ra'shelle persisted. With this pitch issue Jasmine hadn't paid attention to the fact that of Ra'shelle was probably calling from her cellular phone. She usually called from the street. And there it was this final detail: it was Friday. It was impossible to avoid Ra'shelle's visit without a better excuse.



"No, no, no... Please! Don't come around. You don't need to... I'm in... I'm

expecting this ...thing ..." Again, no better excuses came to her.



"Jazz, you suck at making excuses. Gimme five minutes, OK? Cut the whining... You'll tell me whatever story you want when I get there. See you..." she concluded, cutting the communication.



An expression of profound panic crossed Jasmine's obese features. She had to reverse her fatness... A cold shower! That was what the little package indicated. She tried to jump out of the couch in a hurry, but instead, she felt adhered to the leather of the sofa. Moving her ballooned body became a titanic enterprise once again. She finally stood up and moved her gigantic frame the fastest she could, reaching the bathroom.



The surface of the bathtub was all wet and somehow a little bit oily, too. She entered inside with the highest wariness. A fall and a knock-out would be disastrous - picture the news: "Obese lady trapped in her own bathroom rescued by firemen. She was found unconscious by her closest friend!" No, that wouldn't happen. "Yes, it was terrible -said her friend- I don't know how she let herself go like this. She was so slim." Jasmine opened the cold water faucet. The sound of the dry plumbing inside the wall was the only response.



"No!" She barked to the shower. The sprinkler looked like a mute microphone eight inches up from her breathless face. Frantic, she punched the ceramic several times, with the open palm of her hand. The entire arm shivered with every movement, and her mass of body fatness followed. "This can't be happening! Oh...God... No."



Then she remembered the cold water bottles in the fridge. She came out of the bathtub space again and walked to the kitchen, distressed with Ra'shelle's proximity at every step. "To be so fat isn't fun at all when the clock pushes you," she thought. Just one bottle and half. Jasmine hoped the water would be enough. The electric bell in the kitchen hissed twice, indicating Ra'shelle's presence at the entrance downstairs.



Jasmine picked up the telephone. "Rach, listen...I got to-"



"Don't bother, Jazz... Mrs. Coolidge is here opening the door. Coming up!" electronic Ra'shelle answered. Twenty seconds countdown. "Move along, silly!" Jasmine hurried herself. She ran to the front door and removed the lock, let it partially opened, then she came back running fast as possible to the walkway, carrying the couple of plastic bottles. Every part of her massive body was quivering and shaking. "Hey, there..." the visitor announced.



"Come in, Rach! I'm in the bathroom taking a shower!" Jasmine shouted through the walkway, outside of Ra'shelle viewpoint. Then she closed the bathroom door. "Get comfy, I'll be here for a while!"



"Howdy, girl, don't let the door open again!" Ra'shelle whooped out loud. "Anyone can trespass... Even your best friend." She added, talking to herself and making a funny face. "Hey, don't stay an eternity there, blobby! And... Shit! Did you finish this ice cream bucket for yourself? It's huuuge!"



Inside the bathroom Jasmine started to bath herself with the first bottle. "No, bucket-head. I've been eating that ice cream for ages. I just finished eating the remains..." she lied. ("Come on! Work!") The water drifted across her swollen skin, but no dramatic change was evident. The first bottle ran out of liquid. She thought she was a little bit slender, but it wasn't enough... She had to regain her former body.



"What do you think about Dave?" That was Ra'shelle outside the door, in the

walkway.



"D- Dave? What Dave?" The second bottled was opened.



"Don't play around. The guy from Ericsson. The other day...At the Queen of Spades, Ra'shelle was talking about her latest conquest, a brown-haired guy they met at the mentioned club. He was with his buddy, Raoul. Remember? You didn't like him."



"Erm... Yeah, I remember Dave! So?" Jasmine said raising her voice. She was losing composure and nerves. The water thing wasn't working as fast or as good as she wanted. She calculated a loss of about 60 pounds... but she needed at least another 200 to reach her former weight. She bent down - her massive paunch in the way - in order to collect the remains of the water... In her hurry, she had forgotten to put the plug. There wasn't a trace of the water down there. She was helpless.



"Well, I've seen him again. Yesterday, after office, he was..." Ra'shelle said.

"You hear me? I'm not gonna raise my voice. I don't want to publish this in the Neighbors Times... Hello! Are you OK?"



("No, I'm miles away from being OK.")



Jasmine seated in the edge of the bathtub, her 331 pounds pressing against the cold white ceramic. A tear dropped from one of her eyes. "No... I'm... I'm miles away from being OK, Rach..."



"I knew it! I was playing along, but I knew you weren't all right... Open the door and let me in!"

..



4. Sharing Life with Friends



"I can't open the door..." Jasmine answered. "I'm naked and... you don't wanna

see what you're about to see."



"Drugs? Oh, my god! Are you on drugs?" Her best friend trembled. She knew Jasmine...but not enough to be sure of her secret habits. Jasmine always kept lots of personal stuff hidden from her friend, and Ra'shelle didn't like to ask, ever.



"No... It's nothing like that. But it's something about my fucked up mind," she corrected. "You've got to listen to me and believe what I'm gonna say before I open the door... Please. Would you do it?" More tears wet her still enormous cheeks, blurring her green eyes.



"I'm your best friend, dumbass! Off course I'll do it..." Ra'shelle replied, nearly offended, but this silly girl was - no doubt about it - her best friend.



"I think I've screwed up, Rach. I...I let this thing to go too far. First of all you need to know something disgusting about me. About the Jasmine you don't know. The one that nobody knows," she started confessing, with a hint of hesitation, her chubby hands playing with the flaccid thighs. She was determined to strip her soul, no matter the consequences. "I have this strange feeling for the... fat guys. In fact, not exactly the fat guys, but the fat itself." Silence at the other side of the door.



"I'm not really sure when it started," she resumed. "But I've been always fascinated with fat people... and I guess my mom has something to do with it. She was and still is... well, really fat. But past is past - the present concerns me more. I've been carrying a secret life."



"Can I come in now?" Ra'shelle asked.



"Wait. The thing is... Today...I just received a letter with no address or sender. It contained a package of this... well, substance. It seemed a bath scent, but it wasn't. And...now I'm ...fat. But I'm more than regularly fat, I'm super obese. Prepare yourself. This is serious..." Jasmine finished. Then she stood up and turned the door key off, not before grabbing a big white towel to cover herself.



Ra'shelle opened the door. The earlier fear in her eyes switched to disbelief.

"You've got to be joking. This can't just be true... That's a fat suit like Paltrow used for the Farrellys' movie, right?" She said, incredulous. Jasmine's eyes indicated that nothing was false. Ra'shelle moved her hand toward one of the protuberant armpits of her friend. In no way was that softness phony. "Oh, Gosh... this... this is real. How...did you...? How?" And her question vaporized on the air.



"I don't know what it is... or how it works," Jasmine added. "In fact, is like I've just said, nothing more than an anonymous letter under the door. I'm completely clueless about the sender. But this sender knew me and... I'm not sure what to believe. Do you believe in the supernatural?"



"Honey... I'm standing right here, watching my best friend impossibly fat when she's been always a slim fragile twig... and she asks me if I believe in..."

Ra'shelle answered without taking her eyes from Jasmine's silhouette. She interrupted the phrase, raising her sight, finding her best friend's eyes to

Add, "...magic. Well, I don't know what to believe anymore. The fucking Twilight Zone? You tell me..."



Jasmine smiled for the first time since the episode began. It was a bittersweet gesture though. "Look, this ...condition isn't irreversible, but I needed to prove it, and you just came in. I was a lot fatter a few minutes ago."



"Fatter?" Ra'shelle echoed nervously; she was about to go hysterical before the unreal situation. "Even fatter? Is that possible?"



"Possible? I got stuck in the bathtub, you silly." The fat girl laughed tensely. "Do you wanna try?" It was the first thing to come to Jasmine's mind. Ra'shelle, however, didn't look amused by the spirited invitation. "Oh, I'm sorry..." Jasmine corrected herself. "It's just I... Well, I kinda like this. You see it all wrong, but it's been more than a ho-ey experience for me."



"If you weren't my best friend I'd tell you how unhealthy and disgusting this looks," she completed. Her manner was remote and strained. "But dammit! You are... And I'd like to understand it. Prove me sane."



Both girls looked each other for about twenty seconds while Jasmine despaired about starting to get bigger than her grown out figure. Tears dropped down the

cheeks again. Ra'shelle finally moved towards her fat friend, holding her. "Shush, dumbass... Sorry. I'm worried about you. Don't cry. Why don't you dress up and we just talk?"



They stepped out into the walkway. Jasmine was pressing her towel against her body. Ra'shelle escorted her by holding one of the girl's bloated arms. They entered the bedroom; Jasmine turned the light on. "Oh... how I'm supposed to get dressed when I have nothing for this size?" Jasmine said and let her body collapse into the bed. The material cracked under the weight.



"We're gonna find something you can use..." Ra'shelle opened the closet. As an official "best friend," she had the owner's permission to turn this sacred temple upside down. "Any expanded t-shirts... Sport spandex?" Suddenly, her hands touched an unfamiliar silky black fabric hooking down at the end of the nightdresses line. "And... What's this?" She pulled out the dress under the light.



"That's not mine. I never saw it before," she said, opening her green eyes, her huge butter-like legs pressing each other and her massive belly resting on top. Jasmine appeared genuinely surprised. She presented the foreign dress to her friend. It was made of black silk and the texture was terrific. The lines of the bosom area were softly curved to form an open "v" with two delicate black ribbons to hold it. Sleeveless and one-pieced, it was too capacious for any regular sized woman.



"How can you have a tent like this without knowing?" Ra'shelle protested. "But

again... Too many strange things have happened in one night... I'm getting used to it, and I'm not sure like it," she concluded. The dress looked superb. "If it only was about three or four sizes smaller..." she thought and a strange expression obscured her face.



"Let me see. I swear I've never seen it before tonight." Jasmine touched the fabric. "How, it's all smoothie. Should I try it on?" Then a shadow crossed her features. "God, do you think it was left here by...? Oh... My god... The anonymous... Here."



"You're scaring the shit out of me, Jazz. Do you think the guy was here?"



"I'm not sure if it's a guy or what..." she said with caution. Jasmine was no fool. I didn't expect any less from her. "...but this person knows me too well. I've always fantasized about owning a dress like that... In fact..." And she froze, as if she was waking from a dream.



She raised her hands to her face, seizing her cheeks; her full-sized ballooned breasts ran free of the towel restraints. She looked at the dress resting on her bed. "It's impossible! It looks like the black dress my mother used to have when I was about 7 years. She got even fatter later and ...I guess she must have hidden it. I never saw the dress again after that." Jasmine was amazed and scared. A long silence ensued.



"It's pretty big... But since I don't know your mom, and this dress is giant-sized, I guess she was over the 250 pounds and more by the time she discarded it. But you're right. This shouldn't be here..." Ra'shelle said.



"My mom has always been big. I can't remember her below the 200 pounds, but since my dad ran off when I was 11 she really let herself go to the top of all scales and her weight telescoped to 450 pounds," Jasmine added.



Ra'shelle, petrified by the entire situation, decided that she needed to drink a glass of water or something. The fat Jasmine was seated at the bed - or for a better picture, sunk into the bed. Her ample rear end filled a large portion of it. Staring at the mysterious black dress, her hands still pressed against the packed dimensions of her face. "I better go for a glass of water..." her best friend finally said.



Ra'shelle left the bedroom. Jasmine grabbed the dress and set the garment over her inclined body, measuring its real size. It could fit, she thought. She stood up to try on the dress. Everything was so unreal. The black dress fitted her perfectly, as if it was originally made for a body of 330 pounds: her ample shoulders elegantly exposed, the suggestive cleavage, the draping of the fabric, the feeling of the silk. It was a perfect match for her capricious body size. No plan could ever have been executed so flawlessly.



Jasmine´s best friend entered the room with a couple of orange juice glasses. "Girl!" she said with astonishment. "That dress fits too damn well! Sure you didn't buy it when you got all fat and lost memory later?"



"Shit... From now on I'm not sure of anything." Jasmine was staring at her reflection in the wardrobe's door mirror, an astonishing goddess in black silk. "Is it only me and my twisted mind, or does this dress really looks gorgeous on me?"



"The black suits you, Jazz, no matter what size you are." It wasn't possible to determine if Ra'shelle was saying this from the heart or with the sudden comprehension that most women have when they go all diplomatic. There's no way to be sure - sorry folks, not even I know for certain. I've usually traveled the unknown frontiers that make women and men so excitingly different. And I love to be uncertain about these things...



It reminds me that I can be human from time to time.

..



5. Friday Black Dress



"What? Are you serious?" Ra'shelle disapproved "Going out like that How can you even think about it? Don't you feel embarrassed - as fat as you've gotten?"



"It's a question of point of view," Jasmine retorted. "You perceive me as disgustingly fat when others see nothing but soft roundness and sensuality. I may be screwed up in the head, but I'm not alone in this. There are other nutcrackers like me.



"Are you telling me theres a fat lover's symposium or circle or something?" Ra'shelle wanted to know.



"In fact, yes," she proudly answered. "They're not a symposium, silly. They're a group of caring funny people - and they have a name. They call themselves F.A."



"Let me guess. That stands for Fat Abnormal?" A naughty grin crossed Ra'shelle's face. She was a natural bitch sometimes.



"Oh, do you really care? Fat Admirer is what it means." Jasmine was combing her hair. She was ready to go full throttle that night. "You'll see. We're gonna go to a place I went once before. You're going to get shocked. No one will remember my face there - not this fat version of me, I'm sure, and you won't see the networking yuppies we usually see in places like the Queen. And this black dress Well, its worth the audacious sneak out."



Ra'shelle was wary of being shocked by a bunch of weird fat worshippers. Her face communicated this fact. Then she feigned sudden bliss. "I can't wait to go " A second later she wrinkled her nose. "No, seriously, please, don't make me feel embarrassed in front of strangers. Please."



"Are you fat-o-phobic now? Would I embarrass you in public? This is so bold for me ´cos it's for you " Jasmine was now reacting with a real passion. Her double chin rippled every time she gestured too roughly. "Youre suppose to help me overcome my trauma "



"All right all right! OK. Friends to the end " Ra'shelle was somehow threatened by the impressive size of her friend. "But you have to promise to help me to overcome the trauma I'll develop when we get there " Then she delicately slapped Jasmine in the buttocks area, open palmed, as if her friend was a little child reproved for being a bad girl. The obese lady's back part rippled. "Wow That thing's alive," Ra'shelle said.



"Hey!" Jasmine objected. "You don't have permission to touch my new toy! Besides, I need to do this well." She was striving to put her makeup on. "Try putting eyelashes and liquid shadow with these sausage fingers yourself, and you'll see."



"For the record, you're starting to complain about this," the other added with a sense of triumph.



"I wasn't complaining, cheese-head!" Jasmine corrected. "But sometimes you need to sacrifice a percentage of yourself for the greater good." Her makeup was getting really neat. Time for a hairdo change. The big Friday Night was almost there.



Jasmine loved her new bloated neck - or the lack of features around it - and she knew, instantly, that a ponytail was the right call to show it off. Ra'shelle objected the ponytail for being too retro and naïve, but it wasn't enough to stop Jasmine. Finally, she grabbed a black little purse to go along with the dress. At last, both girls were ready for action. Jasmine wasn't quite sure of letting her neighbors spy her newly round "action figure" yet, though, so she asked Ra'shelle to go first into the corridor. Not a single soul was out there. Time to move out her overloaded skeleton into unexplored frontiers.



The 330-pound body of Jasmine was a little bit ample for the lift. It was one of those extra-small elevators with a 500-pound weight limit - suggested for three persons maximum.



"Three persons, my ass!" Jasmine remarked when both girls finally got into the lift. "I understand now why the fat old lady of the fifth floor keeps ranting over this matter "



The lift went down without discernible trouble - not counting the cubicle's two-inch drop passing the base when it heavily stopped - and both girls came out to the long corridor. Jasmine was unlocking the front door when suddenly, coming from the stairs, a neighbor she knew made his appearance in the small parlour.



The gesture of his face said it all. Jasmine went instantly red and turned her head to her friend in anguish. Ra'shelle put on her "I told you so" face and repressed an evil grin. "Jasmine?" The handsome mid-twenties neighbor asked when he hit the door, partially blocked by the enormous girl's anatomy. In a matter of seconds, Ra'shelle proved her quick-wittedness.



"How come that everyone keeps confusing you with your sister?" she said.



"I I don't know," Jasmine quickly replied, following the path of salvation her friend was just developing. "If she wasn't the waif she is I'm sure nobody would ever distinguish us from each other."



The guy smiled, almost with satisfaction. "I'm sorry, you must be twins you're just like her!" It was clear he had a thing for the slimmer Jasmine and he had been found relief in the fact that this obese girl wasn't the girl he craved. Or so they thought.



"We're nothing alike! I'm prettier and funnier than my skinny sis," Jasmine added. She noticed that even the pitch of her voice had changed. Her words sounded deeper, more suggestive. Of course, her resonance box was double-sized now and her larynx was well packed between layers and layers of fat tissue.



The guy didn't come back with a second opinion. He stared at her for a brief moment as if expecting something more to happen. Nothing occurred. Then the three reached the street. "It's been a pleasure to meet you," the guy said while he walked away in the other direction, turning his face back to the girls.



"My name's Penny, by the way I didn't catch yours," Jasmine dared to say even though she knew his name. (It was Charles.) She was exploring freedom of her new situation. Besides, she liked Charlie a little bit. She rehearsed a provocative posture, a hand resting over her enormous cleavage, the other at the side. She was astounding in the black silky dress and even more with those 200 extra pounds.



"Uh It's Charles, I'm sorry. Give my regards to Jasmine. Hope to see you again, girls," he finished using an extreme politically right tone of voice and fled.



The obese girl turned to see Ra'shelle's face. It was also clear that her friend disapproved of the scene as well. "Did you see that, Rach? I scared him off! Silly boy," Jasmine protested with a girlie movement of her head, shaking her ponytail and wrinkling her nose. The fatness in her face rippled across her cheeks and dewlap. She was excited by the whole incident.



"No shit! I wonder why?" was the brief mocking comeback from her friend.

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Published : Jun 1, 2008 | Mature