~BHM (multiple), ~FFA (multiple), ~BBW, Romance, Eating, Imagery, Stuffing, ~SWG, ~MWG - Another Season comes to Regency London, bringing with it many changes--both welcome and not--and many chances in the lives of the parties enjoying the scene.
[Author's Note:] This story takes place in the late 18th century and early 19th. The setting is fairly similar to that of Jane Austen's novels. The different "parts" come from the points of view of the various main characters.
Part 1 (Charlotte)
Charlotte was miserable
The Season had started again and her sisters were ecstatic to be back in London. She would have preferred to stay in their country estate. Her walks through the gardens often distracted her from the problems in her life.
As the middle child of five, four of which were girls, she was often overlooked. The only sibling she was close to was her older—and only—brother, who remained almost always away at school. Being in London with him was the only thing that kept her from running away back to Witlershire. At least there, her father’s hounds kept her company.
With the rest of her family, she was subjected to ridicule. Although the waspish waistline was long out of style and with it the dramatic crushing of whalebone corsets, the long, thin, gracefully feminine form was never unpopular. Charlotte had been blessed—or cursed, in her opinion—with more curves than she knew what to do with. She was not obese, like the Prince Regent, but she was decidedly plump. Her bountiful bosom was particularly problematic with the low-cut, steeping necklines and high waists. The clinging material made her rounded hips and soft belly impossible to hide. Her mother despaired of finding rich husbands for the other girls with Charlotte wandering around all fat.
Her sisters were listening with sadness, except for the eldest, Anne, who was infuriated.
“Mother! If she comes to the party tonight, I’ll never find a husband! The boys will be laughing at me and my friends will turn up their noses,” Anne protested, following their mother from room to room.
Charlotte sat meekly on the bed with her younger two sisters, watching. Jane, at thirteen, and Hannah, at eleven, were too young to be out and active in the Season. They would be left at home with their governess. Still, both enjoyed Anne’s distress on Charlotte’s behalf. Their distaste for her was purely absorbed from their mother.
“I’m sorry, dear, but it wouldn’t be proper to leave her at home! She must come, Anne.”
“I will stay away from the dancing,” Charlotte offered. “Everyone will be watching you anyway, sister. You look stunning in your gown.”
Anne looked over at her in extreme dislike. “Of course you’ll be staying away from the dancing,” she sneered with a look at the bump of Charlotte’s belly as it strained against her shift. “And no one will care to look at you over me. You resemble a giant lavender ball.
Blushing furiously, Charlotte looked down. Her light purple gown looked decent on her, or so she had hoped. Her older sister was probably right, though. She looked too fat in everything she wore. A little sigh escaped her and she kept her focus on the floor near her feet. Her mother would never protest if she claimed to feel sick. The only ones who might were her father, who knew how she was mocked by his wife, and her brother who would miss her at the ball.
That was enough to keep her mouth shut, at least.
“Mother!” Anne was back to trying to plead her way again. “At least tell me she’s going to have to wear a corset!”
Charlotte flinched visibly. Last Season, her mother had forced her into a ridiculous corset made for someone already smaller than herself. Quite a few times, she had felt as though she was going to faint. It had forced her to eat almost disgracefully small proportions at supper, but still she had been forced to suffer it if she wished to attend.
“Of course she will, dear. We cannot have her falling out of her dress,” Mother said soothingly to her eldest daughter, before shooting the next a dark look. “A whole stone! Really, Charlotte.”
Her face felt fit to burn off her head. Even the sneer from Anne did not hurt as much as her mother’s thoughtlessly cruel words. She barely held in a whimpery sob as her eyes filled with tears. Head down in shame, she got to her feet and followed one of maids into her own room.
Molly was a stout, elderly woman with wrinkles by her eyes from smiling often. At the moment, however, she was frowning a little. She gave Charlotte’s arm a soft pat, before moving away to fetch her corset.
“Don’t worry, dearest. We’ll have you strapped up and looking just as beautiful as your sister, if not more, shortly,” she said kindly.
Charlotte wanted nothing more than to laugh rudely in the woman’s face, but only allowed herself a sad smile. She wiped a few stray tears from her lashes with a tiny sniffle.
“Thank you, Molly,” she said; although genuinely grateful, she was far from convinced.
(Continued in post 3 of this thread)
[Author's Note:] This story takes place in the late 18th century and early 19th. The setting is fairly similar to that of Jane Austen's novels. The different "parts" come from the points of view of the various main characters.
New Size for the Season
by NemoVolo
by NemoVolo
Part 1 (Charlotte)
Charlotte was miserable
The Season had started again and her sisters were ecstatic to be back in London. She would have preferred to stay in their country estate. Her walks through the gardens often distracted her from the problems in her life.
As the middle child of five, four of which were girls, she was often overlooked. The only sibling she was close to was her older—and only—brother, who remained almost always away at school. Being in London with him was the only thing that kept her from running away back to Witlershire. At least there, her father’s hounds kept her company.
With the rest of her family, she was subjected to ridicule. Although the waspish waistline was long out of style and with it the dramatic crushing of whalebone corsets, the long, thin, gracefully feminine form was never unpopular. Charlotte had been blessed—or cursed, in her opinion—with more curves than she knew what to do with. She was not obese, like the Prince Regent, but she was decidedly plump. Her bountiful bosom was particularly problematic with the low-cut, steeping necklines and high waists. The clinging material made her rounded hips and soft belly impossible to hide. Her mother despaired of finding rich husbands for the other girls with Charlotte wandering around all fat.
Her sisters were listening with sadness, except for the eldest, Anne, who was infuriated.
“Mother! If she comes to the party tonight, I’ll never find a husband! The boys will be laughing at me and my friends will turn up their noses,” Anne protested, following their mother from room to room.
Charlotte sat meekly on the bed with her younger two sisters, watching. Jane, at thirteen, and Hannah, at eleven, were too young to be out and active in the Season. They would be left at home with their governess. Still, both enjoyed Anne’s distress on Charlotte’s behalf. Their distaste for her was purely absorbed from their mother.
“I’m sorry, dear, but it wouldn’t be proper to leave her at home! She must come, Anne.”
“I will stay away from the dancing,” Charlotte offered. “Everyone will be watching you anyway, sister. You look stunning in your gown.”
Anne looked over at her in extreme dislike. “Of course you’ll be staying away from the dancing,” she sneered with a look at the bump of Charlotte’s belly as it strained against her shift. “And no one will care to look at you over me. You resemble a giant lavender ball.
Blushing furiously, Charlotte looked down. Her light purple gown looked decent on her, or so she had hoped. Her older sister was probably right, though. She looked too fat in everything she wore. A little sigh escaped her and she kept her focus on the floor near her feet. Her mother would never protest if she claimed to feel sick. The only ones who might were her father, who knew how she was mocked by his wife, and her brother who would miss her at the ball.
That was enough to keep her mouth shut, at least.
“Mother!” Anne was back to trying to plead her way again. “At least tell me she’s going to have to wear a corset!”
Charlotte flinched visibly. Last Season, her mother had forced her into a ridiculous corset made for someone already smaller than herself. Quite a few times, she had felt as though she was going to faint. It had forced her to eat almost disgracefully small proportions at supper, but still she had been forced to suffer it if she wished to attend.
“Of course she will, dear. We cannot have her falling out of her dress,” Mother said soothingly to her eldest daughter, before shooting the next a dark look. “A whole stone! Really, Charlotte.”
Her face felt fit to burn off her head. Even the sneer from Anne did not hurt as much as her mother’s thoughtlessly cruel words. She barely held in a whimpery sob as her eyes filled with tears. Head down in shame, she got to her feet and followed one of maids into her own room.
Molly was a stout, elderly woman with wrinkles by her eyes from smiling often. At the moment, however, she was frowning a little. She gave Charlotte’s arm a soft pat, before moving away to fetch her corset.
“Don’t worry, dearest. We’ll have you strapped up and looking just as beautiful as your sister, if not more, shortly,” she said kindly.
Charlotte wanted nothing more than to laugh rudely in the woman’s face, but only allowed herself a sad smile. She wiped a few stray tears from her lashes with a tiny sniffle.
“Thank you, Molly,” she said; although genuinely grateful, she was far from convinced.
(Continued in post 3 of this thread)
