~BBW (multiple), Magic. ~XWG - a odd choice of inheritors for a creepy mansion
(Author's Note: this little story is getting back to my roots, seven girls, seven spells, seven ways to get bigger. enjoy)
Part 1: the Lucky Seven
“Isn’t it a bit conspicuous that she gave us a mention in her inheritance?” asked Nerdy Ellen, the clever one out of the seven. The Lucky seven, as they were known, as nothing bad ever seemed to happen to them, not even so much as a sprained wrist. Ellen was small, with thick glasses, making her look like Velma from Scooby doo, a look copied by her complete lack of fashion sense. In the Sevens hierarchy, she was sixth.
“What, you think it’s some kind of revenge thing?” replied Strident Tina, scathingly. Tall and bold, her figure was striking without being too provocative, and naturally, she was ranked first. She pushed open the rusty iron gate, creaking and groaning, into the overgrown and weed infested garden of the dark and dingly, gothic and grimly, grand and garish house of Witching Ginger.
“What could that fat stupid goth girl have for us?” commented bitchy Chelsee. Petite, brunette and thoroughly spiteful, she was ranked fourth.
“She might have been a fat goth, but she was not stupid,” replied Nerdy Ellen, reproachfully.
“Ellen, stop bickering with Chelsee, you know she only wants attention,” drawled vain Natalie. Blonde, always inspecting a mirror, ravishingly beautiful, dressed in inappropriate cloths for their expedition. She was ranked second.
“Look at this place, It’s a dump!” moaned materialistic Chloe, glammed out in so much jewelry and latest gadgetry, hiding her modest looks in a vial of glitter and pink. She was ranked third.
“Lets get inside,” muttered athletic Christine. The most fit and able, trim and toned, black hair tied up in pony tails, figure clad in running gear. She was ranked fifth.
“Have you got the key, Chubs?” Hissed Chelsee, looking pointedly at the last member of the Lucky Seven. Chubby Bethany, short, stocky, freckled and flame haired, held out the key, as gothic as the rest of the house. She was outcasted, really, from the rest of the group, and ranked seventh, only let in due to her luck than anything else.
Chelsee snatched the key and shoved it into the door, turning it with a sharp click. Tina pushed Chelsee out the way.
"It would be nice if we actually managed to get inside the house without breaking down the door."
"Why do we need the stupid key!" snarled Chelsee, "We're only going to pawn all the fat bitches stuff!"
"Chelsee, there might be valuable possessions in there," Ellen gawped "Have you no respect for the dead?"
"We don't have respect for anyone who can't keep their body fit and healthy!" Vain Natalie interjected, as ranks one through five waltzed into the house. Ellen looked at Bethany, who was softly muttering to herself.
"It looks like the plans going along wonderfully"
"Further commands, mistress?"
(continued in post 4 of this thread)
(Author's Note: this little story is getting back to my roots, seven girls, seven spells, seven ways to get bigger. enjoy)
The Last Will and Testament of Witching Ginger
By Irish Bard
By Irish Bard
Part 1: the Lucky Seven
“Isn’t it a bit conspicuous that she gave us a mention in her inheritance?” asked Nerdy Ellen, the clever one out of the seven. The Lucky seven, as they were known, as nothing bad ever seemed to happen to them, not even so much as a sprained wrist. Ellen was small, with thick glasses, making her look like Velma from Scooby doo, a look copied by her complete lack of fashion sense. In the Sevens hierarchy, she was sixth.
“What, you think it’s some kind of revenge thing?” replied Strident Tina, scathingly. Tall and bold, her figure was striking without being too provocative, and naturally, she was ranked first. She pushed open the rusty iron gate, creaking and groaning, into the overgrown and weed infested garden of the dark and dingly, gothic and grimly, grand and garish house of Witching Ginger.
“What could that fat stupid goth girl have for us?” commented bitchy Chelsee. Petite, brunette and thoroughly spiteful, she was ranked fourth.
“She might have been a fat goth, but she was not stupid,” replied Nerdy Ellen, reproachfully.
“Ellen, stop bickering with Chelsee, you know she only wants attention,” drawled vain Natalie. Blonde, always inspecting a mirror, ravishingly beautiful, dressed in inappropriate cloths for their expedition. She was ranked second.
“Look at this place, It’s a dump!” moaned materialistic Chloe, glammed out in so much jewelry and latest gadgetry, hiding her modest looks in a vial of glitter and pink. She was ranked third.
“Lets get inside,” muttered athletic Christine. The most fit and able, trim and toned, black hair tied up in pony tails, figure clad in running gear. She was ranked fifth.
“Have you got the key, Chubs?” Hissed Chelsee, looking pointedly at the last member of the Lucky Seven. Chubby Bethany, short, stocky, freckled and flame haired, held out the key, as gothic as the rest of the house. She was outcasted, really, from the rest of the group, and ranked seventh, only let in due to her luck than anything else.
Chelsee snatched the key and shoved it into the door, turning it with a sharp click. Tina pushed Chelsee out the way.
"It would be nice if we actually managed to get inside the house without breaking down the door."
"Why do we need the stupid key!" snarled Chelsee, "We're only going to pawn all the fat bitches stuff!"
"Chelsee, there might be valuable possessions in there," Ellen gawped "Have you no respect for the dead?"
"We don't have respect for anyone who can't keep their body fit and healthy!" Vain Natalie interjected, as ranks one through five waltzed into the house. Ellen looked at Bethany, who was softly muttering to herself.
"It looks like the plans going along wonderfully"
"Further commands, mistress?"
(continued in post 4 of this thread)
