# Sophie Ships Out - by Gus7021 (~BBW, ~~WG, eating, realistic)



## Gus7021 (Sep 22, 2007)

_~BBW, eating, realistic, ~~WG - a daughter tackles her oppressive father - and her own insecurities - on a luxury cruise_

[*Author's note:* This is a parallel tale to 'George Ahoy' set on the same cruise. As before this will be in several parts over the coming weeks (or months - bit busy IRL at the moment...) Any queries, comments or suggestions, please feel free to post, PM or email me on gus7021 AT gmail dot com]

*Sophie Ships Out
(Vol. 2 of the "Cruise Ship Chronicles")
by Gus7021​*


*PART ONE*

“... and leave that minibar alo&#8211;”

Slam.

Sophie surveyed her cabin. By virtue of some screaming arguments, and finally a threat not to go on the cruise at all, she had persuaded her parents to give her a room to herself. The fact that she was 18 hadn’t seemed to deter her father from putting her on a separate bed in the same cabin as her parents &#8211; but rationality wasn’t his strong suit.

The only reason, Sophie though, that he had been so insistent was that he couldn’t bear the idea of her being on her own for her first summer in her college course. In other parents this might have been touching &#8211; unfortunately for Sophie, her dad’s actions were not in the least selfless or altruistic.

The girl pondered her plight while experimentally bouncing on the bed, and then checking out the bathroom. Her cabin was fairly small and basic &#8211; on a mid-level deck, but with a window &#8211; but Sophie wasn’t complaining. It was a long way from her parent’s luxurious suite in terms of amenities &#8211; but it was also a long way in terms of distance. 

Sophie walked over to the forbidden minibar, and looked inside. It had an extensive selection &#8211; the cruise company had even left the booze in, despite her father’s attempts to have it removed. She had a sneaking suspicion that this was more thanks to his hectoring tone than the incompetence of the company.

She took out two of the candy bars and the packet of chips, opened one Twix and flung the other items to the bed. As Sophie munched the chocolate, her other hand unconsciously rubbed her belly. She walked over to the mirror on the door of the closet, and looked herself over.

Sophie stood around five-foot-six in her socks; her thick blonde hair reached just below her shoulders, framing an oval face with bright blue eyes. Up to that point, she was the picture of her mother &#8211; except for her weight.

Where Sophie’s mom was thin to the point of emaciation, Sophie herself could be euphemistically described as curvaceous. In reality, &#8216;chubby’ would probably do her figure justice &#8211; except to her father, who simply called her “a fat pig”.

Standing in front of the mirror in her cabin, Sophie’s figure strained her clothes slightly &#8211; the blue buttoned shirt pulled at her belly, breasts and hips, and her jeans looked almost painted on. As she chewed on the chocolate, her nascent double chin became clear to see, flowing into cheeks that were changing her face from oval to round.

She finished the bar, tossing the wrapper into the trash can, and reached over to the bed for the chips. As she began to pull at the packet, though, she stopped suddenly, and almost did a double-take.

“Oh, crap. I’ve done it again.” She spoke aloud to the empty room.

Sophie stood in contemplation for a moment, her gaze off in the middle distance, looking towards but not seeing the grimy port buildings through the glass.

Then she opened the chips anyway.

***​
When Sophie had left for college just under a year earlier, she had gone with a generous allowance, the blessings of her parents, and her father’s admonition to “watch her weight” ringing in her ears.

What followed was a fairly predictable pattern of events. Sophie managed to keep her weight fairly stable up to Christmas, only gaining five pounds &#8211; which were immediately noticed by her father. But after the winter break, the combined pressures of study and socialising went to work.

It started with missing the gym &#8211; Sophie’s visits dropped from three times a week to two, then sometimes two, then one. Then one every other week. Then never.

At the same time, her resolve to stay away from takeaway and fast food started to crumble &#8211; by April she and her roommate were phoning through impressively long orders to the various pizza, burger and Chinese joints in a five-mile radius around the dorm.

It didn’t help that Sophie’s roommate &#8211; a tall girl with a sweet tooth and the apparent metabolism of a hummingbird on smack &#8211; took the lead in ordering the reams of cardboard cartons. Sophie herself was just an unwitting accomplice, a sidekick to her roomie’s Junkfood Avenger act.

Consequently, Sophie was never conscious of ordering &#8211; or eating &#8211; all that much. Her body, though, was extremely conscious, and managed to add 20 pounds of soft flab to her body between Christmas and June.

To say her father freaked would be a slight understatement. As far as he was concerned, Sophie couldn’t have done worse than if she’d admitted to being a junkie whore as she stepped back into the family home. 

For Sophie, it was a rude awakening &#8211; not only had she not realised that she was eating more, but she had never consciously clocked her growing body. She had been doing her clothes shopping in a group, and among the swirl of jeans and tops and sweats going back and forth between changing rooms, Sophie didn’t notice what sizes she ended up with, let alone the fact that these were going up every other month or so.

As Sophie weathered the storm of her dad’s anger &#8211; not helped by her ineffectual mother’s bleating comments (“Honey, have you just tried eating _less_?”) &#8211; she discovered, to her alarm, that she had become a compulsive snacker.

Deprived of its large meals, Sophie’s hungry belly would continually seek out sustenance throughout the day, cheerfully co-opting her feet and hands in its efforts to keep itself in calories. Her mind on something else entirely, Sophie would suddenly discover herself reaching for a high-fat snack from a shelf &#8211; sometimes in her kitchen, but more often than not in the 7-11 down the street from her house.

She was smart enough to keep most of the evidence of her eating hidden from her parents &#8211; she only used trash cans well away from the house, or else snuck out the candy packets or empty ice-cream tubs in her backpack when she left.

But one piece of evidence she couldn’t hide &#8211; her ever-growing belly. At least once a day her dad would eye his daughter’s midsection, and turn a little redder. Roughly every three days this would continue into a barked rebuke or threat, up to and including sending Sophie off to fat camp.

After acknowledging this was not a realistic option &#8211; one anecdotal story of fat campers _gaining_ weight while away probably helped &#8211; her dad realised he would have to choose between taking Sophie on the cruise, or leaving her unsupervised at home &#8211; and in striking distance of the 7-11.

The cruise won by a head. 

***​
“How do you like your cabin, sweetie?”

“It’s great, mom. How’s yours?”

“Oh it’s lovely. Isn’t it lovely, Vern? It’s got a great big window, and a bed, and an en-suite... It’s lovely.”

“That’s nice, mom. Uh... dad? What d’you think of the ship?” Sophie looked nervously over at her father, who was quietly simmering across the table.

“Hmph. Too many restaurants. And too many... you know. _Coloureds_.”

“Oh, _daaad_, jeez! You can’t say that &#8211; it’s not the frickin 1950s any more, you know.”

Her dad was unrepentant. “Well it’s true. And don’t swear &#8211; it’s almost as disgusting as your eating habits.”

Sophie muttered something under her breath, and cast her eyes down to the plate of salad &#8211; undressed &#8211; in front of her. They were having their first meal together onboard, and Sophie had already determined it would be one of their last. 

After Sophie had picked listlessly at the limp leaves for a while, a waiter mercifully took her offending plate away &#8211; and less mercifully replaced it with one bearing steamed fish &#8211; no sauce &#8211; and vegetables &#8211; no butter. Her father’s choice, of course.

The ultimate humiliation came shortly after the remnants of their mains had been cleared away. “No, we won’t be needing dessert &#8211; she’s on a diet, packed on too much weight in college,” confided her father to the friendly waiter, while nodding towards Sophie. The girl felt her face turn beetroot red, and tears pricked the corner of her eyes &#8211; but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of crying. 

*​
Back in her room, a little while later, Sophie let out a shuddering sigh &#8211; her anger and frustration and sorrow fighting to be expelled from her lungs. 

A litany of unprintable expletives rolled around her head as she paced the small cabin, occasionally pausing to kick something half-heartedly. After a few turns round the room. Sophie reached into the minibar and pulled out another chocolate bar. 

She was halfway through the bar when she realised she was eating. Slowly she stopped chewing, stopped, pacing, stopped everything. After a few seconds the only noise in the cabin was Sophie’s breathing &#8211; growing louder, and deeper, and angrier.

Then, with a scream she launched the half-eaten bar at the window, where it left a sticky trail down to the floor. Sobbing uncontrollably now, Sophie knelt in front of the minibar and began to rip out every item of confectionary inside, tearing them to shreds as she poured a screaming torrent of abuse and invective at each in turn.

“Frickin stupid frigging chocolate &#8211; you’re making me so frigging fat! Why can’t you just stop! Why can’t you just...” Sophie broke down again, sobbing over the still-open door of the minibar as the occasional muffled expletive emerged from her quivering mouth.

Eventually she pulled herself together, and with a few sniffs put herself to bed. Under the covers, she watched the now-distant shore lights slide slowly past the ship as it headed southwards.

Sophie curled into a foetal position, and fell asleep. 

***​
It was a few days into the cruise, and Sophie was ready to kill someone &#8211; her father was first in line.

He just wasn’t giving her... space! Any space! At all! When she woke up, it was to the sound of him banging on her door; minutes later she would be virtually frog-marched to breakfast &#8211; muesli, no milk or yoghurt &#8211; then to the deck, or pool or recreation room, for “family time”.

Sophie’s mother had obviously tried her best, in her ineffectual way, and her dad was playing the cheerful, energetic family man for all he was worth. He would jolly the three of them along to genteel ship-board events, and happily bawl out encouragement as “his girls” tried their hands at curling, or bowling, or knitting.

But Sophie and her father knew each other too well &#8211; she could see the fire of anger and loathing burning within his eyes, and she guessed he could see the resentment spilling out of every one of her pores as well.

Still they played the game &#8211; as much for Sophie’s mom as anything else. She hated to see her daughter and husband argue.

As Sophie trudged along the corridor at the back of the three-strong family crocodile, she offered up a silent prayer to any being that might be listening for deliverance. 

Marching ahead, Vern briefed his troops. “Right, you... family. Today we’re going to stretch our brains and learn all about &#8211; sea cucumbers! They’ve got a special exhibition on in the gallery. Isn’t that exciting?”

Sophie added a few more extreme categories &#8211; perfect storm, Kraken, intercontinental thermonuclear Armageddon &#8211; to her desired escape routes.

It was everything she ever feared &#8211; and more. Not only was the exhibition a textbook example on how to kill a subject deader than its stuffed exhibits, it was also attended to by possibly the least exciting person Sophie had ever seen. And she’d been to Delaware.

He looked like Hans Moleman’s older, less racy brother, and spoke in. Slow hesitant. Sentences that. Never really. Seemed to. End.

“Now here. We see. A fine. Example. Of the. Greater crested. Sea cucum. Ber. The greater. Crested. Sea cucumber. Is mainly. To be found. Off the. Coast of...”

GAAAAAH!

While Moleman Major droned on, Sophie committed a gratuitous act of genocide in her head, using only the inert form of a sea cucumber. 

She glanced around wildly for an escape route &#8211; and found it.

“Ok, guys, gather round! Now, take a look at these little fellows. Don’t look much, do they? Well, you’re right &#8211; they’re not. But did you know there are some places where you can find more than _one thousand_ of these critters in a square _meter_? And not only that &#8211; there are some fish that actually live in this guy’s _anus_. Can you believe that? This thing could’ve had something living up its butt?”

A tall guy &#8211; skinny, but handsome and with an engaging face &#8211; was keeping a crowd of teenagers rapt. Or at least as rapt as teenagers can be.

Being an exponential amount more interesting than the Curator of the Dead, most of the exhibition’s audience had also latched on to the newcomer’s presentation. The original guide didn’t seem to have noticed, though &#8211; Sophie still heard him droning on softly in the background.

The new arrival went on for a few more minutes, throwing out some impressively disgusting details, before telling his group to have a look round on their own. As the teens dispersed, Sophie &#8211; with faint horror &#8211; saw her dad move over to the tall guy.

“Hmmm, some presentation you gave there, son. Better than grand-pa over there, anyway!” As usual Sophie’s father made sure he could be heard by everyone in the room &#8211; she just hoped the curator was too deaf or senile to notice. “What you got here &#8211; some kind of tour?”

“Why, yessir &#8211; on-board activities for the younger passengers. Keeps &#8216;em out of mischief, and they might even learn something. Plus it gives their parents some time off, y’know?” The tall guy had an easy way with him, confident and uncowed by Vern’s strident approach, but respectful enough to avoid his ire.

Sophie’s mom chipped in at this point, and Sophie could have kissed her afterwards. “Wow, that sounds great! Hey, Vern &#8211; do you think, you know, Sophie might like to join in?”

Her dad looked sceptical. “Hmph. Hmmm. Well now. See here &#8211; how much does this cost?” he barked at the tall guy.

“Well sir, it’s free &#8211; comes as part of the package. A bit of education, some sports, that sort of thing &#8211; reckon the cruise company thinks it’s a good way to keep the kids and their folks happy.”

“Just you running it, son?”

“Nosir, there’s my colleague Stephen as well &#8211; he takes Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I take Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Sundays off.”

“Sunday off, eh. Doesn’t sound much good to me.” Sophie’s dad would grumble at free money, given half the chance.

“Well, a man’s got to have a chance to pray, sir, that’s what I always say.”

Sold.

Sophie’s mother weighed in again. “Oh Vern, let her go, it would be good for her. And, it would give _us_ some more time together as well. You know... alone.”

Even more sold.

“Sophie, you’re going with the man. Anything we need to sign?” he asked the tall guy.

“Well now, how about we ask Sophie if she’s alright with that first? What do you say &#8211; and how old are you, anyway?” The tall guy looked at Sophie doubtfully.

“I’m eighteen &#8211; but I’d be really happy to join in...”

“Hmmm... well, you’re a little old....” the guy looked at the girl stood before him, saw the pleading in her big blue eyes. “... but I guess you can come along anyway &#8211; it won’t be a problem.”

As relief and joy filled Sophie’s face, her dad was already packing her off. “Great &#8211; she can start now! Sophie &#8211; you go with...” He looked up expectantly.

“Matt,” said the tall guy.

“... Matt, and meet us for dinner at 8pm sharp. And stay away from those candies...”

Even her dad’s final dig couldn’t dent Sophie’s euphoria &#8211; finally she was free, and for the rest of the day and potentially the rest of the cruise. Oh yes...

As the teenaged group moved off, Matt hung back until he was walking next to Sophie.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“So, your dad. He seems pretty... intense.”

Sophie laughed. “Yeah, that’s one word for it. I have some other words too, but...”

“No, no &#8211; that’s ok. I think I can guess.” Matt grinned at Sophie.

“Seriously, though &#8211; thanks for letting me come along. It was getting to the point where... I didn’t think I could, like, cope much longer.” Sophie cast her gaze down.

“Don’t sweat it &#8211; everyone’s folks can be a handful sometimes.” Matt clapped his large hands together. “So, here’s the program for this morning...” 

*​
A couple of hours later, and Matt’s group was back in the ship’s main lobby. “Ok guys, nice one &#8211; see you same time, same place tomorrow,” said the man himself.

The rest of the kids dispersed, but Sophie hung back. “Hey, Sophie &#8211; what can I do you for?” asked Matt with a smile.

“Uh, is that it? There’s only the morning session?”

“Well, yes. Guess I didn’t mention that bit earlier, huh?” Matt gave her a wink. “Tell you what &#8211; I won’t tell your old man if you don’t. Deal?”

“Uh, like YEAH deal!” Sophie grinned back. “Guess I’ll have to find something else to occupy my time in the afternoons, huh...”

Matt laughed. “Yeah, guess so! See you here tomorrow &#8211; in the meantime, you stay out of trouble, you hear?” He winked again and headed off.

Sophie stood there in the lobby, her eyes staring off into the middle distance, but her mind’s gaze surveying the world of possibilities that had just been opened up to her. By her sides her hands clenched and unclenched as the realisation of freedom fizzed through her veins.

Her parents, she reasoned, were creatures of habit &#8211; aside from the pool, the deck and their cabin they were extremely unlikely to go anywhere else on the ship. So all she had to do was watch where she went, and she’d be in the clear.

That just left her with the immediate problem of what to do for the afternoon. As if taking its cue, her stomach gurgled impressively. Sophie moved her hand down to her soft belly and rubbed it thoughtfully &#8211; it had been a while since breakfast, what there was of it.

Sophie headed up a couple of decks to a restaurant she and her folks had already been to &#8211; one where the lunchtime buffet had looked particularly enticing. Licking her lips and patting her tummy in anticipation she headed into the dining area &#8211; and promptly did a u-turn back out into the corridor.

They were there! Her parents were there! How could she have been so stupid &#8211; of course they had to eat. They hadn’t seen her &#8211; both of them were facing away from the main door, looking towards the windows &#8211; but that was more luck than anything else.

Sophie leaned against the wall outside the restaurant and waited for her heart to slow down. She looked down at her round tummy, and adopted a stern tone of voice. “See what you almost did? This is all your fault, you know...”

As she headed towards an alternative eating establishment, she tried to work out a strategy to solve the lunch problem. She’d just have to keep track of where her parents were going every day &#8211; and try to make sure she knew where they were going the next day as well. Sophie’s dad liked to plan &#8211; this should make it easier to steer him towards a particular restaurant. Beyond that, she would just have to be very, very careful. 

*​
Sophie leaned back in her chair, and suppressed a burp &#8211; along with the latent guilt she felt at filling her face with plate after plate of fattening goodness. As she surreptitiously undid the button on her jeans, she looked around at her fellow diners.

They were, she supposed, the usual crowd for a cruise &#8211; obvious honeymooners, young families, and lots and lots of retirees &#8211; or “wrinklies” as Sophie uncharitably thought of them, although most of them looked more energetic than her fellow college students.

There were a few diners that caught Sophie’s eye. One youngish man &#8211; she guessed late 20s &#8211; sat on his own with a book and, like Sophie, gently rubbing his slightly swollen gut. A truly noxious couple, both doing the staring-into-each-others’-eyes thing while clearing their plates. And another equally absorbed couple &#8211; although this time not on the same thing.

The man’s attention was certainly fixed on his partner &#8211; but the woman was completely focused on the plate in front of her, and the fork her husband &#8211; boyfriend? lover? &#8211; was using to shovel food into her mouth.

The woman, Sophie noticed, had already undone her shorts &#8211; her stomach was exposed to the world thanks to this and the belly-top she had worn. She wasn’t especially fat, or even chubby &#8211; Sophie guessed she had only started indulging on the cruise.

As she watched, the woman cleared the plate in front of her and leaned back in her chair, resting her hands on her slightly swollen stomach. The man whispered something into her ear and made to stand up, but the woman pulled on his arm in protest and he sat back down. 

Sophie couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the woman shook her head and pointed to her belly, poking it for emphasis. The man leaned over and started rubbing her midriff gently &#8211; the woman looked uncomfortable with this at first, but then started to relax. All the while the man kept talking softly, and looking straight into his partner’s face.

Eventually the woman seemed to relent &#8211; she sighed, and nodded her head with a small smile. The man smiled back, gave her belly a pat, and stood up again and headed towards the buffet. Heading towards the dessert table directly behind Sophie, he came past her table &#8211; as he did so, Sophie could have sworn she caught him checking out her belly.

She looked down at the offending object &#8211; it did look pretty fat, straining her top slightly and with a clear indent over her navel. She massaged her gut &#8211; maybe this freedom thing wasn’t a good idea after all. If she kept on eating like this &#8211; which, being honest, seemed inevitable &#8211; she was going to put on weight. A _lot_ of weight.

Looking back at the woman with the belly top, it seemed like she was having similar thoughts &#8211; her hands were on her stomach, and she had her cheeks puffed out as she surveyed the damage her lunch had done, so far.

As the man wandered back past Sophie &#8211; carrying a plate piled dangerously high with cakes and ice cream &#8211; she decided it was time to go. Walking out of the restaurant, the last thing Sophie saw was the woman’s face light up as she saw the pile of dessert &#8211; followed by a frown, presumably as she wondered how she was ever going to finish all that food.

Sophie debated heading onto deck &#8211; but decided it wasn’t worth the risk. Instead, feeling dull with all the food inside her stuffed belly, she decided to head back to her cabin.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Sophie stripped off her tight jeans and top, tossing them to the side of the room. She paused for a moment, then let out an enormous and satisfying belch. Feeling a lot more comfortable, she lay down on her side on top of the bed covers, and turned on the TV.

With some mindless action movie washing over her, Sophie began to gently massage her stomach, trying to let some of the tension out. She moved her hand in gentle circles across the slightly taut flesh of her belly, occasionally probing her deepening navel.

She felt her flab shift and bunch under her touch, felt the difference in pressure between the flesh above her stomach and the soft fat of her lower belly, felt the warm and somehow comforting roundness of her abdomen.

Sophie curled up slightly, causing her nascent fat rolls to bunch slightly. Every part of her &#8211; arms, breasts, legs, bum, hips, cheeks &#8211; felt soft and yielding. She moved her plumpening body parts against each other, getting a warm tingle as various limbs rubbed their flesh over the rest of her.

“Mmmmm. I’m getting sooo faaat. Sooo faaa...”

Sophie dozed off.


_(Continued in post nine of this thread)_


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## lizzy (Sep 22, 2007)

Wonderful plot. Looking forward in great anticipation to a future installment - and to your character fattening a great deal more :eat1:


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## diggers1917 (Sep 23, 2007)

I'm really enjoying this so far, and am looking forward to the next installment. Well done, sir.


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## luv_lovehandles (Sep 24, 2007)

very nice im luvin it


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## Ssaylleb (Sep 28, 2007)

loving the story, cant wait for the next part


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## jjgreen14 (Oct 2, 2007)

this story is looking great so far...i cannot wait for the next installment


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## Browniestuff (Oct 2, 2007)

really an awesome story. good work. take your time on the next part, do it right!


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## Gus7021 (Oct 7, 2007)

Hi all - just a quick note to apologise for the delay in part II - it is on its way, but RL is interfering at the moment...

Gus


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## Gus7021 (Nov 17, 2007)

[*Author's note: *_Many apologies for the late arrival of this part - time, and inclination, has not been on my side recently. Anyway - hopefully things are back on track now... So without further ado, please may I present..._]

*Sophie Ships Out - Part Two​*

No!

Yes, young lady.

NO!

Im not telling you again...

Sophie, listen to your daddy.

Sophie sighed. Why did her parents have to be so _stupid_? And, apparently, sadistically cruel...

Look, Ive done everything youve asked me to  Ive joined that dumb youth program, Ive eaten, like, nothing but fish and vegetables since being on this ship. Im not doing this. No way. Uh-uh.

Her fathers eyes glowered at her from the depths of his reddened face. We are a _family_. We are on a _family holiday_. We are _having a good time together_. So yes, if you want to have even AN INCH of freedom for the rest of this trip  you will put it on. Once again he held out the offending garment.

But daaaaad... Sophie had resorted to teenage whining  she knew the battle was lost. 


*​

Fifteen minutes later Sophie emerged from her parents bathroom, pulling vainly at the hideously spangled skirt and top her dad had forced her to wear. Every bulge on her growing body forced itself against the fabric, causing the top to ride up and reveal a few inches of her wobbly belly.

The skirt did its part to accentuate her fatness  at least two sizes too small, it pulled at her hips, forcing a muffin top to form all around the waistband. Sophies ass was doing its best to split the seam at the back, and her fattening thighs forced the hem ever higher as she walked.

Her dad gave her a look of the utmost disgust, and drew in breath for a tirade. 

Dont. Just  dont, warned Sophie, cutting him dead, and glaring at him with a death stare. If we start now well never even make it out of this room.

He looked like he was about to protest, but then thought better of it. Well, now that were ready...

The happy family band set off towards the ships main ballroom, dad in front, mom in the middle and a still-squirming Sophie bringing up the rear. The outfit her dad had procured for her was stupidly tight  either he was even dumber than he seemed, or he was trying to make a point.

Whatever the reason, Sophie hated him a little more with every step. Even as she continued to tug on her clothes, she felt a small tingle as she felt the air brush against her exposed flab. And while most of her brain cringed at the glances of other passengers, a small part of it basked in the attention, at all these people staring at her chubby thighs and midriff.

It helped that her parents were equally festooned in hideousness  her mother was decked out in something that looked like the tailor had gone mad with spangly tassels. But her dad  her dad was something else. Somewhere on board  for they had nothing like it at home  he had found a white Stetson hat, which a blind Parkinsons sufferer had apparently decorated with multicoloured LEDs.

His jacket was also white, but had an unnatural sheen to it, and glistened strangely in the halogen lights overhead. His pants... well, it probably was best not to dwell on those.

As they rounded a bend, Sophie heard a distant Yee-HAW!, and part of her self-respect died quietly inside her.

Here we are, folks! The family line-dancing evening! Sophies dad clapped his hands together, and gave his family a terrible smile simultaneously filled with joy and misanthropy. Lets go and have some FUN... 


***​

Sophie slammed the door behind her and leaned on it, breathing heavily. Through the thick wood she could still here the whoops and whistles of the more brain-damaged passengers as they danced the night away.

Having endured an hour of this now, Sophie reckoned she had shown remarkable restraint in not murdering her parents with her bare hands. For the sake of humanity, she had decided that leaving was the best thing to do.

Still, she mused, she had managed to wind her dad up quite effectively. Early on she had skipped away from her parents and moved further down the line; from here, she just happened to be in easy reach of the generous buffet table, which included traditional high-calorie barbeque fare.

Making sure her father was in the middle of a dance  and thus in no position to intervene  she would saunter over and pile up a paper plate with greasy goodies, then lean against the wall and consume them. When she was certain her dad was watching, she would arch her back and push her fat belly out, sometimes rubbing it with her free hand.

Yes, she knew it was bad, and yes, she knew it wouldnt do her any favours in the long run  but seeing the blood rise to her dads face was something Sophie just couldnt resist. Also, the food was pretty good, especially those yummy wings...

Sophies thoughts were interrupted by her stomach growling. She looked down in disbelief.

What, AGAIN? But youve just been fed... she said to her belly.

It gurgled once more.

Fine... Ill see what I can do.

Rubbing her gut, Sophie wandered off in search of more sustenance. Despite the several platefuls shed already had, there was still some room for dessert. Especially so, as she had been prevented from having any in the dance... ah yes.

The _other_ memorable part of the evening.

His name was Rob, and boy was he cute. Sophie had ended up next to him in one of the twirly dances  she didnt know their names, and would pay money never to learn  and at first she had pegged him as just another inbred redneck huckster moron, with his hat and feathered chaps.

But as they do-ci-dod around each other, Sophie caught just a glimpse in his eyes of the same frustration and contempt that was going through her head. As they came back face to face, she flashed him a consoling smile, and hed responded with a knowing grin. From then on, they were in this together.

At the end of the dance, they had both retreated to the side of the room, and introduced themselves  and then proceeded to roundly denounce the dance as a form of torture which wouldnt have been out of place at Camp X-Ray.

Although, you do dance pretty well for someone who hates it, Rob pointed out.

Sophie drew breath to respond, only stopped by the sight of a slight mocking smile on Robs face. She deflated. Well, I wasnt going to mention it, but since youve brought it up  the hat suits you. She grinned wolfishly, and looked him straight in the eye. And as for those chaps... well...

She was surprised and gratified to see her comments rewarded with a blush from Rob, who did his best to disguise it with a lunge to the bar. After a couple of (soft) drinks, they chatted some more before Rob was pulled back into the dance by a formidable looking woman  his aunt, he had said. Seeing a warning look on her dads face, Sophie sighed to herself and rejoined the fray.

Shortly before she decided to escape, Sophie had seen Rob exiting the ballroom, being pulled along by the same aunt, and followed by a withered specimen which Sophie decided must be Robs uncle. He had looked around to find her, and had managed a small wave before being yanked through the doorway.

Thinking back, Sophie smiled to herself at the memory, and decided to institute a discreet search for the boy as soon as possible. She was brought hurriedly back to the present by another loud grumble from her gut. She pressed on in search of food, and headed towards the ships main retail area.

Here she found a gift shop cum newsagent cum candy store, of the less fancy Mars/Hersheys/Reeses variety. Sophie picked up a trashy celeb mag  out of date now, but she didnt care  and started browsing the chocolate on offer. She picked up M&Ms, a Mars and a Twix before seeing her favourite  Hersheys Chocolate and Cookies bars. 

Still holding on to her earlier selections, she added four of the brown and cream bars, and took the whole lot over to the cashier  a middle-aged woman with a pleasant smile on her face. As Sophie rummaged in her bag for cash, the woman started scanning the sweets.

Wow, thats a lot of chocolate. All for you?

A little embarrassed, Sophie mumbled that it was.

Well, youre a growing girl  youll be fine. Dont eat it all at once, though  youll get tummy ache! The cashier smiled at the girl.

Sophie laughed. Ill try  but Im pretty hungry. I didnt get dessert tonight...

Well, theres always room for dessert  thats what I say. You enjoy it, sweetie. Good night  take care now!

Sophie smiled warmly back, and headed off towards her cabin, pulling out a Hersheys bar and chomping into it. As she walked past the remaining shops, though, she saw the ships ice cream parlour. After debating with herself for all of three seconds, she went in.

Hi there  could I have a two-scoop... uh, actually a three-scoop waffle cone with chocolate and toffee please? asked Sophie as she chewed and swallowed the last of the Hersheys.

The woman behind the counter  a thin and sour-looking figure this time  grunted and started to prepare the order. Looks like you like chocolate, eh?

Uh, yeah  I guess so, said Sophie, absent-mindedly scratching her tummy.

Yeah, well. Looks like you could do with cutting down a bit, judging by that belly youve got there.

Sophie froze, conflicting emotions surging through her head. On the one hand she was mortified at the womans comments  but on the other that thrill she felt earlier, with people staring at her fat, was back. She played it cool.

Yeah, I guess I have, like, been putting on a bit. She pulled her top down a little.

The woman behind the counter grunted. Its your body. Thatll be $5.80.


***​

It was two days later, and Sophie was at large in the ship after the daily educational tour (todays topic: engines!). Her parents were in the Thai restaurant near the front of the vessel  theyd planned to go last night, after their daughter had dropped a subtly suggestive hint.

As a result, Sophie was mooching around at the stern end  shed already had her lunch (burgers), and had followed it up with a double ice cream (chocolate and coffee) from the still-scowling gelato matron. As she window-shopped, Sophie was crunching on the remainder of the cone, still partly filled with now-melted ice cream.

She was amazed by what you could buy on board  in this, the smaller of the arcades, there were designer handbags costing more money than Sophie had ever had in her entire life, alongside glamorous dresses, jewellery  and shoes. 

Other than high-calorie food, shoes were Sophies one real weakness  in her first year at college, shed managed to amass a collection of almost a dozen pairs of new shoes, in addition to her existing horde. Admittedly none of them were Jimmy Choos  as were the pair that were currently hypnotising her from the window on the ship  but it was an impressive haul, and Sophie was always ready to add to it.

Oh gosh, they really were something else  Sophies mouth started to water involuntarily as she continued to gaze at the display. She debated with herself about going in to try them on  and decided why not?

As she entered the small shop, the immaculate sales woman stared at Sophie with some disdain, transferring her gaze to the teenagers chest. Sophie looked down  at some point her ice cream had dripped, leaving a prominent brown stain on her white top, which had itself ridden up to reveal a substantial amount of her soft belly, its fatness emphasised by the jeans she had unbuttoned after lunch.

Sophie gave a slightly sickly little laugh, but pulled herself together. Hi  could I, like, try on those shoes in the display?

The sales dragon rolled her eyes skyward, then sighed and reached for the shoes  it wasnt like there were any other customers. After a brief examination, Sophie asked if they had them in her size, and the woman brought them from the back.

Enjoying the cruise? She asked as she handed Sophie the shoes. 

Oh yeah  its pretty good. Its a real nice ship, and the facilities are great. The pools, the shops, the entertainment...

And the dining, I see, said the sales woman, eyeing Sophies bulging midriff.

Uh yeah, I guess. My folks are loving it  they were going to go to the Thai place today for lunch.

Theyll be disappointed then  its closed today.

What. Sophies voice was flat.

Yes  I think a guest last night had a... well an incident of some sort, and they had to do some major cleaning. It should be hey, where are you going?

Sophies brain had been running in overdrive through the womans conversation  if the Thai place was closed, her parents would have defaulted to habit, which meant...

Which meant the generic international restaurant 200 yards from the shoe shop!

In a panic, Sophie tore out of the shop and headed deeper into the ship, glancing over her shoulder. As she did, she caught a glimpse of her moms distinctive handbag making its way round the far end of the corridor, closely followed by the woman herself.

Sophie picked up the pace  she made it round the corner, guessing that even if her parents had seen her, she would only be an anonymous running figure. She jogged round another corner, slightly out of breath, and stopped in a staff-only doorway to collect her thoughts.

She had  just  got away with it, she reckoned. Now, what she needed to do was to make sure she had a good alibi for being all the way at the other end of the ship  and something that wouldnt give the lie to her supposed daily itinerary. How about...

Sophie? Sophie, if thats you...

Oh sugar.

She was off again, round the corridor cutting laterally through the ship now, heading towards the left of the vessel. She thanked her stars this area was carpeted  her dad couldnt tell for certain which way shed gone, which should buy her some time  at least until her dad figured out the other way was a dead end.

The corridor curved slightly  probably an exciting and dynamic architectural concept on the part of the ships designers, but practically also a help to the fleeing Sophie. As she ran, she kept turning her head to check for pursuit. She looked back one last time before she hit the deck  no one following. As she faced front, her eyes were filled with the rapidly approaching chest of a rather chunky man ahead of her, whod just rounded the corner from the deck.

Too late to dodge, she tried to slow her pace, but still managed to collide with a fair amount of force. The man made an oomph noise, and doubled over slightly.

Sophie helped him up. Oh, CRAP! Im really sorry... 


*​

Five minutes later, Sophie was walking  briskly  towards the front of the ship, taking a route through the inner corridors. With every step she was inwardly thanking the guy shed bumped into  if hed been a jerk, he could have screwed everything in a second. Instead hed covered for her  telling her dad shed gone onto the deck, while she hid in a stairwell.

Shed always thought her dad was some sort of aberration  surely not many people could be quite so obnoxious? She had reckoned that most people were alright really, if you gave them a chance.

After being on the cruise, though, Sophie was forced to revise her view somewhat: first to believe there were now rather more people like her dad than she had hoped; and second to realise that a great many of them went on cruises  along with all the normal people, obviously.

Breaking off from her musing, Sophie thought about her best course of action. First, she needed to get to her cabin and change her top  luckily she had another very similar white one, so she would look the same as she had this morning at breakfast with her parents. She reckoned her dad would be roaming the deck for another ten minutes or so, giving her time to get back to her cabin.

Then, shed need to get her alibi  head to something educational at the front of the ship, and absorb enough to bluff a conversation with her dad later on. Shed have to hang around there for a while, though  she couldnt afford to head back to her cabin for a couple of hours, just in case her father decided to lie in wait, something his twisted mind might actually contemplate just to catch his beloved daughter out.

Perhaps it would be best to hang around the small art gallery  containing efforts from the ships passengers over the years  until it was safe to go back. Otherwise there were the other shops, or there was always the food court...

Sophies belly growled. It had clear ideas about which plan it favoured.


***​

An hour later, and Sophie was tucked safely away in the back of the food court, obscured by a row of pot plants on one side, and a pillar on the other. In front of her was a tray full of food  she had gone round a few of the counters before heading to the checkout with what she thought of as Lunch 2.

The ships food court was not a mall-style collection of chain outlets  instead it had counters for every different stage of dining, covering most of the common types of cuisine. While it wasnt as swanky as the restaurants, it offered good food at slightly more reasonable prices  and, crucially for Sophie, anonymity among the crowd, and in a place her father wouldnt be caught dead at (food courts were immoral, apparently  Sophie had never felt able to ask why).

She had picked up a burger and fries, with some fried mozzarella sticks and potato skins to start, and coleslaw (hey, that had vegetables in it!) on the side. For dessert, she had gone for a generous slice of strawberry cheesecake, with an impressive dollop of cream threatening to roll off the plate. She had covered her bases for the drinks, opting for up Coke and a thick chocolate shake.

She picked up a cheese stick and dipped it into its little pot of marinara sauce before taking a bite. She felt the crispy shell break, and the soft cheese inside flow into her mouth, mingling with the tomato and herbs of the sauce.

Oh yeah.

Polishing off two of the sticks, Sophie moved on to the skins  she alternated between the two starters, polishing them off in a few minutes. Sitting back in her chair, she rubbed her gut, and noticed that this white top was also starting to ride up, even though it was technically the bigger one. 

Looking at the expanse of white, Sophie belatedly realised she should make sure she didnt spill anything this time. Looking around in slight embarrassment, she took a napkin and tucked it into the neck of her top like shed seen diners in old films do  however stupid she might look, at least her top would be clean...

Thus protected, she moved on to her main course. The burger was a proper burger  a thick patty, glistening slightly with grease from the slice of cheese on top, and with lettuce and onion peeking out from underneath the meat. She added ketchup and mayo, and leaned forward to take a bite. The burger dripped impressively onto the plate and tray as Sophie chewed, a trace of sauce on the corner of her mouth.

Mph, sgood... she muttered to herself. There was something more satisfying having a burger off a paper plate and plastic tray, sat at a formica table with a chair that doesnt move  it felt more... real than eating it off china, with a knife and fork on standby.

She made short work of the burger and fries as well, surprising even herself, considering the two starters shed already consumed. Shed sunk most of the shake as well, saving the Coke for the creamy dessert.

As she started on the cheesecake, Sophie started to feel just a little bit full. Around the half-way mark through the substantial slice, she felt the need to pause  as she took breath, she massaged her swollen gut gently, and let loose a genteel belch for good measure.

Sitting back up, she made a final push  almost forcing the remnant of the cake between her lips, still savouring the taste, but now chewing a long time before swallowing. Finally, it was gone  Sophie finished off the Coke as well, and with a final soft burp sat back in her plastic seat.

She didnt realise it consciously, but the days consumption  breakfast, post-breakfast chocolate, lunch, an ice cream snack, and now Lunch 2  marked the most Sophie had ever eaten in a single day. In fact, Sophie was not conscious of a lot right at that moment  the fullness in her belly, her laboured breathing, and the sugar rush which was kicking in all acted as more pressing concerns.

Pushing off from the back of the chair, Sophie wobbled slightly as she got to her feet, then attempted  vainly  to pull down her top, which was now showing off plenty of stuffed stomach to the assembled diners, not that they were overly concerned with this.

Walking away, she also realised the zipper on her  still unbuttoned  jeans had worked its way down another couple of notches. Aside from easing the pressure on her expanding body, they didnt seem to be having any other effect and certainly werent in any danger of falling down, so Sophie resolved to ignore it for now.

As the slightly dazed girl left the food court, she rounded the corner  and bumped into her second person of the day, fortunately at less speed than her previous encounter.

Oh jeez, Im sorry, I guess I wasnt oh, uh, hi Rob! Inside, Sophie cringed. What sort of a fat clutz would he think she was now?

Rob smiled at her. Hey Sophie. Recognition! Definitely a good sign. Hows it going  you getting a late lunch?

Uh, yeah  just finished, said Sophie, rubbing her belly for unconscious emphasis. Yeah, because she really wanted to draw the attention of the hot guy to what a pig she was  nice one.

Cool  Im just going in for a snack. Uh.

He smiled at her. She smiled back. There was an awkward pause. 

Inside, Sophie was dying  in her stuffed state, her reserves of witty dialogue were at an all-time low  and yet here was THIS REALLY HOT GUY TALKING TO HER. She willed herself to say something, anything, to get the conversation back on track. Otherwise...

Uh. Hey, Rob resumed, scratching his head and looking at the floor. It was good

Yeah, yeah  it was good running into you again, pre-empted Sophie with a bright smile. Ill let you get back to your...

Rob laughed a little. No, what I was going to say was, it was good to see you, as I wondered  I wondered if youd like to, uh, catch a movie sometime. Say  tomorrow night? He looked at her with a certain amount of hope, but also with a directness Sophie liked  the right balance of confident and modest.

Well  yeah, sure. Ill meet you there at, eight?

Eight is good. See you then. With a final smile, Rob walked into the food court.

As she wandered back to her cabin, Sophie smiled to herself. Overall, she thought, that had gone quite well. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was already fifteen minutes after she was supposed to have finished her activities. 

She broke into a gentle trot, trying in vain to suck in her stomach, and prepared herself for the accusations she knew would come.


_To be continued..._


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## lizzy (Nov 17, 2007)

Looking forward to Rob giving her a proper stuffing.


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## Armadillojellybeans (Nov 18, 2007)

The realism in this story is amazing, and such a good plot and characters, way to go!


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## Browniestuff (Nov 18, 2007)

Awesome story, I love the scene in the cafeteria towards the end. Keep it up!


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## runningman (Nov 25, 2007)

Well written. Enjoyed reading this. Look forward to seeing more.


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## DownSouthBellyLover (Feb 1, 2008)

Sorry to kinda necro this story, but I have to admit that I was kinda hoping for another part to it. Any word on another part being worked on?


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## Gus7021 (Feb 9, 2008)

DownSouthBellyLover said:


> Sorry to kinda necro this story, but I have to admit that I was kinda hoping for another part to it. Any word on another part being worked on?



Hello - yes, it is still being worked on.

Since the last part was posted, I've had a computer crash, a ton of work and a load of visitors - I've barely had time to read these forums, let alone write anything, frustratingly.

In order to prevent the half-story-syndrome problem, I'll post the entirety of it when complete - as with any future stories as well.

Sorry for the delay - but stay tuned....

Gus


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## slurpeekell12 (Feb 21, 2008)

Love the story, can't wait for more!


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