One-Horse Open Sleigh - by Big Beautiful Dreamer (~BBW, ~~WG)

[Big Beautiful Dreamer]

~BBW, ~~WG - A young Amish woman goes out into the world for her "running around time."

One-Horse Open Sleigh
A collaboration between Pefird and Big Beautiful Dreamer​

Sadie briskly and efficiently unpacked her small suitcase. Her friend Harmony had taken the modest earnings Sadie had given her, and there was a small pile of “English” – non-Amish – clothing already in the dresser. All were secondhand items, which bothered Sadie not at all. As the second of seven children, she was well accustomed to wearing hand-me-downs.

Once unpacked, she shyly wriggled out of her plain green dress and took off the apron and sheer white Kapp– head covering- and her stockings and shoes. She carefully put on the English undergarments, then a pair of blue boy-britches made of faded, sturdy fabric, and a thin shirt that Sadie at first thought must be an undershirt, with its low neck and short sleeves. She looked through the other tops and found them all similar, and besides, the shirt had delicate sparkles and ribbons around the neck. Sadie thought it a little bit hochmut, but Englishers dressed proud anyway, and she was here to live English for a while and see how it felt. Then, if she chose, she could be baptized into the Amish church, as most Amish teens did after their Rumschpringe.

“You’re ready for your running-around-time!” Harmony startled her by pushing the door open without knocking. She eyed Sadie approvingly. “Oh yes, you look very English. But your hair!” She grimaced. “Take down those braids ... brush it out ... put it up into maybe just one braid.” She suited her hands to her directions and soon had Sadie’s hair feeling very strange indeed. Sadie swished her head from side to side experimentally. She’d never worn her hair in any way except the crown of braids.

“Ready for makeup?”

“Oh no ... really ...” Sadie felt her cheeks warm. “I’m feeling too hochmut yet, jah?” She bit her lip. “In fact ... did you get me any dresses?”

“No ... a couple of skirts.” Harmony presented a patchwork wraparound skirt. Sadie quickly took off the britches and put on the skirt, which fell to mid-calf. That was better.

“Anyway, it’s time for you to see about that job waiting tables.”

Sadie was pleasantly surprised to find that the manager had hired other teens in their running-around-time. He found them responsible, obedient, and quick learners, plus they seldom had strange piercings, oddly colored hair, or foul mouths. She was given the 6 o’clock to 10 o’clock shift six days a week, serving breakfast. The hours suited her, as she was used to early rising, and Harmony had agreed to pay her a modest amount each week for cleaning and cooking. This way, she could do baking first thing, then still have time to make a good dinner and supper. Harmony, though English, had lived near to several Amish settlements all her life and was accustomed to the good Plain cooking. She had a layer of padding on her statuesque body as a result, but she wasn’t nearly as sturdy as Sadie, who’d always been a big girl. Sadie’s Mamm was five foot seven and probably carried well more than a couple-a hundred pounds. Her Daed was always coming up behind Mamm and wrapping his beefy arms around her and bellowing, “A fraa to get hold of, that’s gut.” Would Sadie ever be anyone’s fraa? Would she be Levi Esh’s fraa someday?

Sadie wasn’t used to buying anywhere near all the ingredients she needed from a grocery store, but the money Harmony had provided allowed her to buy most of what she wanted. And she had to admit it was right convenient to have foods already ready for cooking. She cleaned the apartment shining, then busied herself making roasht, a chicken-and-stuffing dish; applesauce; butter bread; creamed peas; and adding pickled beets from a stock of preserves she had brought along. Molasses cookies were baking and ice cream was waiting in the freezer when Harmony came through the door, and the apartment smelled wonderful-gut, if Sadie did say so herself.

Harmony was lavishly complimentary over the meal but took only one helping of everything. Sadie wondered silently if her cooking wasn’t as good as Mamm’s.

Harmony exhaled. “Whew. I’ve eaten so much!”

Sadie’s eyes widened, but she said nothing. Harmony had pecked like a little bird, while she, Sadie, had eaten two heaping platefuls. Sadie didn’t quite know what to do with left-over food, but there was more left over than there was eaten.

“Come, eat yourself full,” she finally chided, blushing as she realized that she sounded just like Mamm.

“I have,” Harmony insisted. “Really.” She stood up and patted her flat tummy. She was built, Sadie thought, like a boy who hadn’t been through his growth spurt yet – tall, not very curvy, not skinny but not real filled out yet. Sadie was tall too, tall as Mamm, and built like a healthy farm girl, though she never had given a minute’s worry to her figure – that was vanity and not the Plain way. Food was there to be enjoyed, that’s what. There were a couple-a boys who had walked her home after singings, and she suspected that if she snuggled up next to Levi Esh at the next such singing, she might get a ride in his courting buggy. But honest, Sadie had never seen a healthy person eat so little. Missing her family, and hungry after her sudden plunge into English living, Sadie filled her plate a third time. Harmony took hers to the sink and poured a cup of coffee, keeping Sadie company. She declined the molasses cookies too, so Sadie took three just so they wouldn’t go bad too fast. When she rose to clear away, she thought at first she better move the pins that held her apron in place – only she wasn’t wearing an apron, just the skirt and that immodest shirt. The skirt fastened with ties, and Sadie undid them and loosened the fit a little. A belch flew out.

“Oh,” she said, patting her lips. “Guess I had an appetite, jah?” She cleared her throat. “Let me fix you up a dinner – I mean, lunch – that you can take with you to your work tomorrow.” She wanted to remember to use English terms. Harmony directed her to plastic containers, and Sadie fixed up a nice lunch, then tidied away the rest of the food. She eyed it thoughtfully. Some of it could go in the freezer, and maybe Harmony wouldn’t mind the same food again for supper tomorrow. Her work was slowed by the unfamiliar gurglings and grumblings of her tummy, which wasn’t used to store-made foods.

Sadie thought she would be too excited to sleep, but she fell asleep the minute she was under the covers, thought it was barely 8 o’clock.

She rose at 4 the next morning, set to baking, and mixed up batter for chocolate-chip waffles. She set sausage frying and added the applesauce from last night, then made a pot of coffee. Syrup, honey, and the biscuits were quickly out of the oven. Sadie had found a shirt that at least had long sleeves, though a lot of buttons, which Amish clothing lacked. Buttons were hochmut. She put the wraparound skirt back on, and added knee socks, so that at least she was decently covered and not half-naked today.

Harmony came shuffling into the kitchen. “Oh ... hmmm ... um, I don’t usually eat breakfast,” she mumbled.

“Sit, sit,” Sadie urged. “No use an empty stomach.”

Harmony put away all of two waffles, a bowl of applesauce and a biscuit with apple butter, though she did say it was a treat, after all, to have such good food, and proclaimed herself stuffed. Sadie bit her lip and wished her a good day at work. She washed up quickly and hastened to the restaurant.

Waiting tables was easy! Even when people were snappy and rushed, Sadie’s quiet patience tended to cheer them up, and she smiled shyly at everyone. Her tips were good, and the owner didn’t seem to resent the fact. Afterward, in the mid-morning quiet, she and the other waitresses sat in a booth and chatted over coffee and left-over Danishes. She rode the bus happily back to the apartment and idly nibbled on biscuits and molasses cookies just to get them gone as she prepared supper.

“I hope you don’t mind the same again,” Sadie said apologetically.

“Sadie, I swear, if someone cooks for me, I’m thrilled!” Harmony said. “I don’t eat like a farm girl, but I love your cooking, really.” She patted Sadie’s hand. “It’sh delishioush,” she added, with a mouthful of chicken.

Sadie found herself out-eating Harmony for the second evening in a row, but as long as Harmony kept her company with an after-supper cup of coffee, that was fine by Sadie. Again, though, as she stood to clean up, she found herself having to loosen the ties on the skirt. If Harmony hadn’t eaten herself full, Sadie sure had. At least someone in the house had a decent appetite.

Sadie awoke in the middle of the night. It was too quiet, compared to the farm, where there was always the windmill creaking, animals rustling, an occasional courting buggy clopping by. At the moment, the only noises she heard were those emanating from her stomach, which growled and whined to be fed. How could she be hungry after a big supper? But that was a while ago. She tiptoed out to the kitchen and fixed herself a plate of molasses cookies and a glass of milk. Then she flipped through a magazine. All the English girls looked like a stiff breeze would blow them over, jah?

Sadie pasued, a cooky halfway to her mouth. She wanted to eat all the cookies left in the apartment. Suddenly she was filled with a strange desire to stuff herself. Never in her life had she given food a thought. You cooked it and ate it and it filled you up for work. Now, however, she wanted to stuff like a pig. A flash of guilt rippled through her. Englishers were greedy, wanting things for their own sake, consuming, getting and having – Sadie couldn’t remember ever wanting anything. She had family, clothing, a home, what else was there to want? But she wanted those cookies. She needed those cookies. Sadie used the microwave to warm them up a little, then settled down with the glossy magazine and more milk.

It was after three before she found the cooky plate empty. She yawned and stretched as she stood up, the yawn turning into a groan as her aching tummy clutched. Her belly was swollen and tender, pushing out the front of her nightgown. It was still making noises – different noises, now. It gurgled and churned, griping about the unexpected amount of food at an unexpected hour. She belched three times running; rubbing her aching stomach, she thought it felt a little better. Sleepy now, she put her dishes in the sink and shuffled toward the bedroom, her stomach still grumbling and gurgling audibly. Sadie carefully sat down on the bed, moaning at the fullness of her tummy. It was distended and sore, and she settled down under the covers with little grunts and groans. She’d never before eaten like that. All her life, she’d eaten till she was full and then stopped. She felt greedy and a little sheepish, like the time her brother Jonas had stolen Mamm’s apple pie and eaten it all up, then sicked up behind the barn. Afterward, she’d overheard Jonas telling Mamm, “I just wanted to see what it felt like to eat a whole pie.”

“Ach,” Daed had scolded. “And didja?”

“Yes,” Jonas had said, and belched. “Oooh.”

“Doesn’t feel so gut, jah?”

“Doesn’t feel so good,” Jonas had agreed miserably.

Only to Sadie, full to bursting of molasses cookies, it felt oddly good, even if her tummy did ache something awful now.

Sadie slept until 4:45, staring in horror at the alarm clock when she finally woke. Sadie had never slept so late. Her belly was still visibly bloated but she was not full anymore. She wasn’t hungry either. Still, Harmony would need breakfast. She quickly dressed in a long denim skirt whose elastic waist she tugged up to her ribcage, and a plain, solid blue shirt with no buttons or other decorations. Then she slipped her shoes over her stockings before practically running to the kitchen, triggering a symphony of digestive sounds from her still-distended abdomen.

She cooked a smaller breakfast. Eggs, bacon, more biscuits and coffee were on the table by 5:15, a little late, so Sadie had to rush her breakfast, while Harmony seemed, if drowsy, calm and placid. By the time the dishes were done, Sadie had to run for the bus. Somehow she’d still eaten more than twice as much breakfast as had Harmony, and by the time she sank, puffing, into a bus seat, her tummy was making a whole pile of noise, and Sadie had a hand to her mouth, feebly attempting to muffle her belching.

The bumpy bus ride to work was torture to Sadie's aching stomach, which threatened to expel its contents almost constantly. But as long as she held her breakfast down, Sadie decided, the queer pleasure she derived from the bloated sensation of being so full was worth the accompanying discomfort.

As Sadie greeted her coworkers, no one seemed to notice Sadie’s digestive concert. Slowly the sounds diminished, though Sadie belched right in front of customers a couple-a times, which was embarrassing. Most times she could at least cover her mouth, except for while carrying two plates and facing a small, blonde, female coworker. Sadie tried to turn her head while still looking where she was going.

Sadie's stomach gradually settled, and after a much-needed and productive bathroom trip, the bloated feeling Sadie had was gone. The next customers, though, sent their breakfast back twice, and on her third trip Sadie saw the rejected plates sitting forlornly off to the side.

“What a waste!” Sadie thought, frowning. “Someone should make that gone.”

Over the course of the morning, send-backs, barely touched children’s meals, and the fountain drinks employees got free all made their way down Sadie’s throat. She didn’t eat every plate clean, of course, but she ate at least a little of them, which mollified her. She’d never seen food wasted. By 10 o’clock, she could barely force down two Danishes and a cup of coffee with the rest of the morning shift. She was dreading the bus ride home; her stomach was protesting loudly as she walked to the stop.

Sadie’d eaten so much that she was a little surprised that her stomach hadn’t burst. Not to mention which, she was feeling a little sick. The skirt that was loose this morning was now so snug that the seams were straining.

The ride to work that morning was a joy-ride compared with the ride home. Stomach acid burned her throat as she boarded the bus, and the bumps forced her to puff out her cheeks as it surged into her mouth from time to time. Her stomach grumbles and gurgles got louder and louder, making people stare. Sadie kept her gaze on her feet, her cheeks burning as well as her throat.

She couldn’t fathom even looking at food, but Harmony would need supper. She worked through the afternoon in spite of her stomach, which as it struggled with digestion occasionally sent a message up her throat. She thought her face must be an awful shade of green. Another couple-a visits to the bathroom helped, and when Harmony got home supper was on the table: frankfurter rafts, macaroni salad, green beans, pickled beets, lettuce salad, butter bread, and stewed apples.

Harmony and Sadie chatted about nothing in particular as they ate. Harmony didn’t mention Sadie’s skirt, which was visibly straining at the seams, or her bloated belly doing the straining. Harmony jumped up to get ready for a date, leaving Sadie, who could hardly believe that she’d eaten a whole heaping plateful.

But there was all that food still left, and Sadie really didn’t want to see it go to waste. She wondered idly if she might sick up, automatically reaching for more food as she did. Her stomach had been gurgling and rumbling all day, and Sadie was starting to get a little naerfich about the noise, but who wouldn’t be nervous? Her belly had never made noises other than the odd growl of hunger, and now it seemed to be groaning and gurgling constantly, like the toilet Sadie had encountered in an English store once, that hummed and echoed nonstop, the water vibrating. It had scared her so bad that she wouldn’t-a used it if she hadn’t had to so bad.

Pop! The skirt seam split at the overworked waistband. Sadie felt a tingling between her legs that felt oddly pleasurable, and her belly didn’t ache so much now, so she kept working away at the rest of the food. Pop. The other seam.

Her stomach was grumbling so loudly Sadie thought Harmony must have heard it, and she sat, unable to move, puffing her cheeks steadily to keep the surging down, while the tingling sensation increased. A full inch of swollen midriff showed on either side when she finally stood and, dopily, began clearing the table.

Harmony trotted through on her way out the door. “What happened to you? Sadie! Are you okay? You didn’t eat all that, did you?” Her eyes widened as she saw the absence of any left-overs from supper.

Sadie’s cheeks burned. “Leave me alone!” She brushed past Harmony and ran to her room – oh, now that was a mistake. The unwise joggling of her enormously distended belly made matters worse: between the tingling down there and the worsening nausea, she wasn’t sure what would happen next. She was sure, too, she looked like one of the cows about to calve. She crawled into bed after tearing off her clothes. She’d masturbated before, not that anyone would know. Her face glowed red and sweat rolled down her neck and throat and between her breasts. Her hugely swollen and aching belly, really about ready to burst, groaned and gurgled and sloshed, climaxing in a loud whine as Sadie bit her lip to muffle her moaning at the orgasm that resulted.

After an age, she moved her hands to her belly, still tender and sore, and lovingly stroked it, murmuring the way Mamm would murmur to a baby. She patted and rocked it, stroking and soothing her grossly distended tummy, until it quieted into hibernation and Sadie drifted into sleep. Her dreams were all of the English world and she woke after each one. In the darkness, she would alternate between rubbing her tummy and pleasuring herself down there. Certainly this kind of greed wasn’t so encouraged in the Amish world, and neither was the other pleasure. If she went back, she’d hafta give them up, she supposed.

As much as Sadie was enjoying waiting tables, she still found the English world too noisy and crowded, still blushed when customers were coarse and rude, still was unable to join in the television- and movie-centered gossip of the other waitresses, and increasingly finding that her small wardrobe of English clothing was shrinking in two ways – there were fewer items into which she could fit her steadily thickening waistline and blossoming breasts, and everything she could still squeeze into was shrinking. In desperation, one Saturday in December she was forced to wear one of her Amish dresses to work. It had been Mamm’s, then Katie’s, and it was stretched-out and baggy by the time it got to Sadie. It wasn’t quite as baggy now, but it still was comfortingly loose.

The looseness fooled Sadie into eating a bigger breakfast than usual. And maybe it was the closeness to Christmas, which always seemed to stress out Englishers, but more plates got sent back than usual that day, and Sadie continued to at least eat some of each of them so’s not to make waste. By 10 o’clock, Sadie’s belly was uncomfortably stuffed and whining and groaning so loudly she was sure everyone else was just being polite in not mentioning it. She could hardly force down her customary share of Danishes.

“Sadie, don’t forget about the party here tonight,” Suzi, the petite blonde, said. “The Christmas party?”

“Ach, that’s–urp–tonight? Urp.” Sadie felt her face turn red as she belched right in Suzie’s face.

“Yeah,” Kelly chimed in. Kelly was a big girl herself, and today she wore a tight red sweater that showed a lot of cleavage as well as a small dragon tattoo. “Six o’clock. Mr. Dinunzio is providing all the food.” Sadie really liked Kelly. She thought she might wanta get a tattoo herself one day. Maybe of a horse and buggy. The thought made her smile.

Sadie’s head was swimming as she plodded heavily to the bus stop. She was ready to pop, and here she was to go to a party, her first English party. She’d rest all afternoon, that’s what. She sank puffing into a seat and waited for the now inevitable surges of nausea and loud grumblings to ease. Twice she had to puff out her cheeks to hold back the urge to sick up right there on the bus.

She staggered into the apartment, reeled into the bedroom and collapsed. She slept, unconsciously cradling her distended and throbbing belly. Twice she half-roused in response to the insistent urgings from down there and drowsily, but with increasing enthusiasm, masturbated, falling back asleep with her hand still tucked into the warm and damp pocket.

At three she sat up abruptly. Harmony’s supper! She would have to improvise. Hastily she splashed water on her face, rebraided her hair, smoothed her rumpled dress, and set about laying out supper. Pickled beets, cold cuts, egg salad, thick slices of homemade bread, chow chow, homemade mayonnaise, applesauce, peach cake, and molasses cookies. As she poured the lemonade, she was surprised to hear her stomach growl. She was gut and hungry there. The party wasn’t for several hours, yet. She’d nibble a bit to keep Harmony company.

Mmm, nothing so good as pickled beets. And the taste of Mamm’s chow chow almost made her cry. She missed her family so much! What would Christmas day be like without them? She took some more egg salad and added an extra dollop of mayonnaise. Chances were, Levi would have dropped by with his courting buggy – he might have borrowed his Daed’s sleigh instead. Gulping lemonade, Sadie refilled her glass and decided she’d better finish off the cookies, since Harmony had apparently eaten her fill.

Sadie caught a glance at the clock and gasped.

“Oh–hic!” She wrinkled her brow. “The work party! Hic! I’ve – ohh – got to run. Hic!” She’d eaten too quickly and her full stomach was protesting loudly. She grabbed up her coat and jogged for the bus, at least she tried to jog, but every step jolted her aching and bloated belly, each jounce hurting something awful and increasing the groaning and burbling from within. She wondered if her tummy would blow up. She had a stitch in her side awful bad by the time she sank into her seat, and each bump and jolt sent a fresh surge of spicy, hot nausea up her throat.

She walked as quickly as she dared to the restaurant, sure that her face was as green as her dress. Fortunately, it was baggy enough that even with her full tummy it didn’t stretch too tight across the middle. Yet.

Sadie had never drunk alcohol, but the punch she accepted was spiked. The room quickly grew too warm, and she was thirsty. Several glasses of punch on top of a big supper necessitated a quick trip to the ladies’. When she got back, Kelly had heaped a plate for her.

“Go on – you look hungry, girlfriend,” Kelly insisted. “That dress is falling off of ya.”

It wasn’t, but everything did look awful gut. And her head and knees felt kinda loose. Maybe she needed a little something.

Sadie hadn’t tasted English desserts before. They were awful rich. Cheesecake, chocolate fudge cake, chocolate-covered cherries, fruitcake, coconut cream pie, a torte layered with apricot jam. Plus thick slices of salty ham, scalloped potatoes, squash, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, pickled bean salad, everything tasted delicious. And the punch was really tasty.

Sadie clutched the edge of the counter. The room was sliding back and forth and making her kinda dizzy. It was real hot, and she felt sweat slide down her neck and throat. She belched hugely, surprised that the sick that surged into her mouth didn’t spew out. Ohhh. She didn’t feel so gut.

Hands were guiding her to a booth. Kelly’s face loomed, blurry and sliding around. “Sadie? You okay?”

Sadie forced a wobbly smile. “Hic.” She groaned. She wanted to crawl off like one of the wounded animals on the farm. “I don’t–hic–feel so gut. Hic!” She started to rest her forehead in her hand, but her elbow slid out and hit the wall with a bang. Kelly caught Sadie’s head and lifted it back up.

“Someone should have told you there was alcohol in that punch you’ve been enjoying,” she said sympathetically. “I’m taking you home.”

Sadie awoke the next morning, still in her crumpled green dress. Her head throbbed like it was about to split. She remembered going to the English party, but nothing else. She bolted on wobbly legs for the bathroom. Then she crawled back into bed and prepared to spend the day with a wet cloth on her forehead. Harmony’d gone to Denver for the holidays. Sadie didn’t know quite what to do.

Then she did. She peeled off her dress and gave herself a gut long look in the mirror. Her pasty face was puffy and swollen, but there was no disguising the double chin she’d developed of late, and it made her mouth temptingly kissable. Her padded shoulders were soft and inviting, the velvety thickness of her arms just made for snuggling. Her ample breasts rested on a proud belly, lapping over to make a crease at her thickening waist, and her hips were sturdy and broad, something to really tempt a man. She started the shower and closed her eyes. As she bathed herself, she pictured Daed wrapping burly arms around Mamm and bellowing, “A fraa for a man to get his hands around – that’s wonderful-gut!” Then she imagined Levi doing the same with her, and the queasy flopping and churning of her ever-gurgling stomach was replaced in her attention by the now-familiar warmth and tingling down there.

She knew what she was going to do next. And after that? She’d get herself a bus ticket back home. In time for Christmas. And hope that the seat in Levi’s Daed’s sleigh was broad enough. She might come back to this English apartment. She wasn't sure yet.... It would depend on Levi’s Daed’s sleigh.

 

[nonpython]

 

[Big Beautiful Dreamer]

 

[Perry White]

 

[morepushing13]

 

[Penny White]