The soJourn

[Kilo Cal]

[size=+3]The soJourn[/size]

[size=+1]By Kilo Cal[/size]
{A romantic fantasy with weight-gain. And is the “end” actually ‘Finis’ or not?}
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“Really! Listen to them go on and on about us” sniffed thAightrein, referring to a group of coeds across the room.

{Well, there’s no need to render ycleptions here, so we’ll let her be “Fannie,” as she was aptly and obviously called in thisHere. And we’ll let her soJournring companion be “Bo,” which is also apt, if not as obvious.}

“I’ll depend on you to farListen,” said “Bo” between mouthfuls of her second tuna salad sandwich with extra mayo. “You’re the one who can best longHear.”

“Well the kindest name they have for us — for our huMorphs, actually — is chubbette,“ the longHearer responded. “Other names… Well didn’t Scripter tell us that female animal names like “cow” and “sow” were insults in thisHere?”

“I don’t know how you can listen to all of them at once! Doesn’t it sort of, well, clutter your mind?” asked Bill, the third one in their group, a mere human who just couldn’t ever seem to wrap his mind around the fact that these women…coeds…beings…had powers.

The three friends were finishing a midday interval between classes by having lunch at The Caf. It was the universal gathering place at Riderwood College, the only place besides the “U” and one’s dorm where someone could really relax.

Our two soJourning protagonists were beings from notHere. They might have been called faeries, peris, pixies, sprites, gremlins, and much else and much worse in otherHeres. But in thisHere, they were on the soJourney that all beings of their ilk must take in their youth. Their purpose, as with all soJourneys, was to “Bring Interest” into a human life or two.

Because they were mere soJourners, Dramaturge had chosen their huMorphs for them, huMorphs, he felt, that would immediately “Bring Interest” to the Riderwood campus. Thus, the soJourners had appeared one day at Riderwood as two chubby freshmen, each weighing 225 pounds or so in thisHere’s weight units.

The one called Fannie had a huMorph with thighs that rubbed together down to her knees, thighs that seemed well-matched to the job of lifting and lowering, with each ponderous step, the mammoth cheeks of her “thunder tush,” as Bill had dubbed it.

According to Scripter, her friend’s nickname “Bo” was derived from her thisHere name: “Roberta.” But Bill had immediately decided that it was “Bo for Bosom!” Her huMorph was almost all torso — a mounding, protruding belly topped by Bo’s huge, pendulous breasts. Her huMorph wore industrial-strength bras with cups that could seemingly contain thisHere’s soccer balls. Braless, her huMorph’s heavy breasts displayed a love-affair with gravity, cascading in two exaggerated teardrops over Bo’s belly mound.

Dramaturge had been right. On their first day, the two soJourners had met Bill and had immediately Brought Interest to him. Their huMorphs were what Bill needed to speed his college “coming out” as a fat admirer. In fact, the arrival of his two new friends went a long way to dispel the funk he’d been in during the previous summer as he rued the dating opportunities he’d missed in high-school with a certain Glynnis Rockford, the fattest girl in his school.

Fannie and Bo soon learned that Bill was not only a FA, but was also a feeder and an encourager. To Sustain Interest required that they continue to acquire new pounds for him to appreciate and to admire. When they were with him, his aching desire to see them ever bigger would have been palpable to anyone with even half the powers of a soJourner.

Oh, the admiration and the appreciation were there — Bill was truly a Fat Admirer — but a corner of his mind, and not a small corner, was completely occupied with a longing, an ache, a lust to see the fat women he admired grow heavier and heavier, bulkier and bulkier, always different from day to day, always more interesting.

He studied Fannie’s and Bo’s bodies with interest and with lust. He studied them in detail, looking for new flesh, new bulges, more awkward movements. And the soJourners, questing to Sustain Interest, were forced to respond, lest they fail in their quest. They had no choice in thisHere while they were soJourning with Bill and receiving his lustful emanations. They had to respond to his hunger with a hunger of their own — a hunger to eat to great excess, producing ever fatter huMorphs for the human FA to admire.

Fortunately, Scripter had planned a further plot development.

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“To Bring Interest is a worthy accomplishment,” pronounced Dramaturge in approving tones. “But to Sustain Interest is a profound one.”
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“Damn it, Glyn, you’ve done it again!” Verna Wyatt was smiling, but still serious. “That hunk, Frank Muller, was giving me the eye until he saw you shoveling it in on the other side of the table, and after that he never looked at me again!”

“Why? does he think it’s catching?” Glynnis patted “it” — the huge paunch she had been so assiduously stuffing while Frank ignored her friend’s flirting.

“Maybe not,” Verna acknowledged, “but maybe any guy is going to worry about his girl getting fat when he sees her eating with someone like you.”

Glynnis accepted this as it was intended, a statement of fact rather than the insult it sounded like.

“Well, Frank’s going into the mall,” Glynnis observed, straining to keep his figure in sight as he crossed the street toward the MetroMall. “Maybe you could arrange to, err, run into him there when I’m not around! Give me a five and I’ll pay both our bills.”

“Great idea!” Verna smiled, hurriedly tossing a five-dollar bill on the table, then grabbing her purse and jacket to follow Frank’s disappearing figure into the mall.

Glynnis was left with her thoughts, fully aware of the irony of Verna’s predicament. Throughout high school, Glynnis had experienced “The Verna Effect” in reverse. What guy would even notice Glynnis when someone like Verna — slim, trim, and svelte — was sitting at the same table?

“There’s no comparison!” said a voice that seemed to be responding directly to Glynnis’s thought.

“Oh, err, Bo, isn’t it?” Glynnis came back to earth as the zaftig soJourner joined her at the table. This was the third time they had met at the Food Emporium, each meeting facilitated — unknown to Glynnis — by Bo’s preSeeing and longHearing.

“Sorry to intrude between friends,” Bo said around a mouthful of taco, “but it was pretty obvious what was going on.” (Pretty obvious to Bo’s thoughtGrab talent, that is.)

“Take it from one who knows,” Bo continued, slapping herself in a way that sent waves through her accumulating blubber, “If Frank, whoever he is, were an FA, he’d never glance twice at Verna — he’d only have eyes for you!”

“An FA?” Glynnis questioned.

“Fat Admirer, Chubby Chaser, Mountain Man, whatever you call ‘em. Didn’t you ever have a guy pay special attention to you in a way that made you think he liked you because you were fat?”

“How could a guy…,” Glynnis began tentatively, seeming to reject the whole idea that any man could want a woman to be fat.

But Glynnis did remember, Bo’s thoughtGrab confirmed. Glynnis had apparently not been entirely oblivious in high school. She had blushing memories of a guy named Bill who always seemed interested in her, but never seemed to have the nerve to ask her out. She had always assumed that her fat had gotten in the way, but if so, why would Bill have shown any interest at all?

“…but I guess there was maybe this one guy who might have thought I wasn’t too ugly….”

“What happened to him?” Bo asked, fully knowing the answer.

“He’s at Riderwood College — where you go,” Glynnis remembered from their first encounter. “After high school, he went there, and I took a job downtown as an Admin. Aide.”

“Well, if I might repeat a suggestion you yourself made to Verna not ten minutes ago, [how does she know? Glynnis wondered briefly] why don’t you look for a job at Riderwood and, err, arrange to run into him?”

“But.…”

“No buts about it! There’s a notice posted right now on all the Riderwood bulletin boards — the Dean is looking for an Associate Assistant!”

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“Nice!” said Dramaturge. “A new Dramatic Turn and a new Dramatis Persona to whom to Bring Interest. Excellent!”
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“Glyn, this is thAightr... err, Fannie, and this is our friend Bill, who maybe you’ve met before…?” (Bo remembered at the very last second to turn it into a question.)

Fannie got up ponderously from her chair just to impress upon Glynnis how much interest a “thunder tush” could generate in a true FA. But Bo noted approvingly that Glynnis wasn’t looking at Fannie’s fanny — she was looking instead at Bill looking at Fannie’s fanny. And if Bill was trying to hide any of his blatant FA lust, he was failing miserably.

“Uhh, well,” Glynnis ventured, looking at Bill, “we both had Algebra II and Trig with Ms. Thatcher and English Lit. with Mr. Hammond.” She was determined to test Bill’s eyeballs — to lure them away from Fannie’s estimable charms in favor of her own. She still wasn’t really sure that there was such a thing as an FA, but Bill was surely acting like the genuine article.

All at once, Bill was a pilgrim wandering in a fantasy land of pulchritude. He was amazed, astounded, and aroused at the abundance of female flesh surrounding him. Fannie and Bo he was used to, but suddenly, Glynnis was here, too, and she was at least 30 pounds sexier than she was when he had last seen her at graduation.

He mentally kicked himself, as he had done hundreds of times since graduation. He had covertly admired of Glynnis’ lush, burgeoning body throughout their years in high school, but he’d never been man enough to admit his fat admiration, never been man enough to “chat her up,” never been man enough to ask her out.

Now, Glorious Glynnis (as he would forevermore think of her) sat across from him, munching more than a meal’s worth of creamy soup, mayo-laden sandwiches, and a salad drenched in thick, calorific dressing, Here was the fantasy maiden of his high-school years eagerly scarfing up enough lunch for two.

But more importantly, here was Glynnis — Glorious Glynnis!! — Talking. Talking to him! Talking at last!

Neither Bill nor Glynnis noticed as the two soJourners slipped away (as much as their 275-pound huMorphs would allow them to “slip.”) But Glynnis happily let Bill take her fat, flabby arm as he walked her back to her job in the Dean’s office. “I’ll be here at five thirty to take you to dinner!” he promised.

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“It doesn’t really end? Does it?” Dramaturge grumped.

“Scripter, you’ve always said that ‘all’s well that ends well,’ but you and your two soJourners here seem to have left everything up in the air with no end at all, ‘well’ or otherwise!”

Scripter gestured to th’Aightrein to contain her consternation as he stood to respond.

“With respect, Sir Dramaturge, what end would you have? Should Glynnis ”end” by never gaining another pound and thus never getting sexier in Bill’s eyes? Should we return our two soJourners to that particular thisHere for further dramaturgical acts, perhaps to seduce Bill away from his Glorious Glynnis?

Or perhaps, Sir Dramaturge, has the interest that has already been generated by ‘Fannie’ and ‘Bo’ now reached enough of an end that imaginations can work beyond ‘FINIS’ to see Bill encouraging Glynnis —his girlfriend…, his partner…, his wife… to become ever more “glorious” in his eyes?

“In short, Sir, isn’t ‘They Lived Happily Ever After’ enough of a traditional end?, a sufficient end?, and, Sir, a SATISFACTORY end?”

“Bravo! Bravo! Scripter!” The Dramaturge was beside himself with glee, having plotted and guided and engineered this discussion for his own amusement and for its…err…“dramatic” effect!

“And Bravo! you two soJourners — well acted and well improvised! You Brought Interest, then you Sustained Interest, and, as Scripter himself has just pointed out, you resolved the drama (if a bit obviously at times) into a SATISFACTORY end. Well have you performed! And well have you earned your advancement from soJourner to interVenor!”
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