Pavita in the Panhandle

A darkly feathered hand was raised in the air, and its counterpart was placed upon the closed Bible.  "I pleedge alleegence, too eee flag, of eee United States of Ameerrica.  An too ee repulic, for wheech ee ztands, one nattion, unner God, indiveesible, weeth leeberty ann jussice for all."

"And that's it, Ms. Pechugona!  That's the last step!"  Said the friendly attendant.  Taking the Bible away, he reached out for his stamp.  She presented her certificate, and with a resounding THUMP, he stamped it with a bright green version of the Great Seal of the United Sates.  "Congratulations, you're now officially a United States citizen!"

"Ooo, zaank you, Meeser Sanchez, I soo excited!" said Pavita Pechugona, fidgeting in delight as she beheld her certificate.  As she did so, she rippled and jiggled all over; she was a buxom, voluptuous turkey-girl, and she had quite the knockout figure.  In particular, she had a pair of mammoth breasts, the size of beach balls, which bounced and rippled in her low-cut Spanish-style dress.  She also had a pair of plump, matronly hips, and a round bottom that jostled up and down, causing her pert tail feathers to twitch from side to side.  She smiled radiantly at her certificate, her lovely face beaming as her beak curled with delight.  "I soo happy to be You Ess citizen!"

"Well, you've been a model immigrant since you escaped here from Cuba, and you did the whole process by the book.  America is proud to have you," said Mr. Sanchez, trying to avoid looking at her breasts; this was difficult, as they tended to dominate her appearance when viewed from the front.  "Now you can vote, and take out a mortgage, and all sorts of things!"

"Morr...gage?" said Pavita, putting a dark-feathered finger to her chin.  "For house?"

"Yeah!  Or a condo, I guess."

"Ohh, Meeser Sanchez, ees so esspensive round here.  I look at aparrment, I look at house, ay yay yay."

"Yeah, I hear you.  Miami's a pricey city.  I'm barely paying rent on my apartment."  An idea struck him.  "Say, I know you've been in Miami ever since you got into the country, but now that you're a citizen, you don't have to stay here.  You could always move up north, where the living's cheaper."

"Up... north?" said Pavita, puzzled.

"Yeah!  It's a lot cheaper to live up there, in the panhandle near Georgia and Alabama.  Pensacola, Tallahassee, Gainseville, Jacksonville--they're all a lot cheaper than Miami.  The culture's not exactly the same; it's less... Cuban, up there.  But if you're looking to own a home, and you want to live a little cheaper, you should give the place a look.

Pavita glanced down at her newly stamped naturalization certificate.  Then she looked over at the map of Florida posted to the wall of the immigration office.  She squinted her pretty eyes and glanced at the northern portion of the state.  "Gaines...ville..."

THREE YEARS LATER

The Chevy TrailBlazer rumbled into the parking lot of the Wal-Mart, its big V-8 engine thundering as it did.  It roared through the lanes of the lot, cutting off multiple shoppers who were either pulling out of their parking spaces or trying to pull in.  Finally, at long last, the big grumbly beast of an SUV found a parking space close to the wide sliding doors, and it settled into its space, slightly overhanging onto a parking space on the opposite side.  The TRUMP 2020 sticker on its bumper was clearly visible.

"Dumb fuckin' goobers," mumbled Pavita, steering wheel brushing against her breasts and belly as she steered the mid-sized SUV into the space, keeping an eye on the plethora of cameras that monitored the big, boatish car's surroundings.  She grabbed for her Big Gulp of Dr. Pepper, slurped powerfully, and felt a ripple of disappointment as the straw came up empty.  "Fuckin' small-ass drinks, fuckin'... Bloomberg..."

At last the TrailBlazer was in its space (and over it), and Pavita swung the door open wide.

"*Huff*, Nrgh, ngrf," she grunted, slowly unwedging herself from her expansive, heated and cooled seat.  Anybody watching the spectacle would have been amazed, because it was like watching dough expand out of a bread pan: bulging over, expanding forward, gooping outward.  Pavita oozed out of her TrailBlazer, growing bigger and bigger as she slowly exited the vehicle.  It took her five minutes to goop herself out of her car, buttocks finally oozing free as she steadied herself on her chubby, swollen feet.  She gave her cheeks a massive jiggle, and the rippling ocean of flab smacked into the door and slammed it shut.  Pavita puffed out a breath and put her plump hand on her enormous front.  "Stupid *pff* guvmint-mandated... small-ass seat... small-ass door... Not *huff* made for REAL Americans.  I gotta... ungh... upgrade to a fuckin' Suburban."  She pulled down her t-shirt and hiked up her sweat pants, and with that, Pavita Pechugona began to ponderously waddle her way towards the front doors of the Wal-Mart.

She was quite a sight.  Years of living in Gainesville had transformed Pavita, fully making an American out of her in all the best, and all the worst, of ways.  Heavily, ploddingly oozing along, Pavita was a picture of decadence, sloth, and gluttony, wrapped in in a package of laziness and greed.  She was spectacularly fat.  Her formerly lovely face was buried in a wrapper of piggishness, heavy, bloated cheeks oozing down her face until they became bloated jowls that sagged down onto her chins.  She had a heavy second chin that oozed out from her broad jawline like putty, puddling downwards until it met her THIRD chin, which was comparatively smaller but which dribbled down onto her collar like a goiter.  Her rolling folds of shoulder fat collided into huge, flabby upper arms which bulged like hams and sagged onto her elbows, meeting porky forearms that turned into fat hands, whose chubby fingers bore tacky rings with fake gemstones.

Bloating hugely in front of her, Pavita's breasts were still her most prominent feature, but now they could fairly be described as grotesque.  Each one was the size of an eighteen-wheeler's tire, weighing dozens of pounds, impossibly gigantic bosoms that gave her feet of cleavage.  They sagged down to her thighs, or they would have if they did not rest on a voluminous, multi-rolled belly.  This flabby gut sagged down to her knees, and it jutted out in front of her, providing a mountainous slope upon which her tits rested.  Between her gigantic belly and her titanic boobs, Pavita's front extended multiple feet in front of her face, and anyone who wanted to approach her closely had to literally wade through flab.  She was so big around, in fact, that she couldn't rest her arms at her sides, content to splay them outwards away from her enormous body.

Part of why she was so big around was her acres and acres of back fat, shelves and slopes of rolls that bugled from behind her, all the way down to the huge spare tire that formed the back of her biggest, lowest belly roll.  This rested on her ass, which was gigantic.  Pavita had a five-foot-wide shelf of a bottom, a huge display of buttock that put the widest seats in Gainesville to shame.  each cheek blasted out behind her and sagged down her titanic thighs, and each of those thighs was as big around as a more ordinary fat girl's waist.  Between her buttocks bulging behind her and her belly oozing in front of her, Pavita was bigger around than she was tall.  Her massive thighs folded onto her knees, oozing down into calves that folded onto her ankles.  Her cute fat feet wobbled and wiggled, even, chubby toes bulging against her flip-flops.

She was so fucking fat.  Waddling along, pumping her fat arms to either side to help her move, Pavita felt every bit of her more than 500 pounds.  She was dressed for maximum comfort and easiness.  She wore a gigantic Florida Gators t-shirt, which her ginormous boobs stretched the collar of until the ostensibly-modest t-shirt showed off acres of cleavage.  She wore a vast pair of sweatpants, clinging like a second skin to her buttocks and her legs.  And she wore flip-flops, easy to slide on and perfect for the mild climate of Gainesville.  Her obese body kept trying to escape even these easygoing confines; she kept having to tug down her shirt and pull up her pants.  The sweatpants oozed down her gelatinous buttocks from time to time, putting the tops of her huge snakeskin-print panties on display.

Pavita topped it all off with a messy black ponytail, and a pair of cheap aviator sunglasses.  As she finally made it into the Wal-Mart, she took her sunglasses off and hooked them onto the overtaxed neckline of her t-shirt.  "*Hff*, *pff*, *hff*, *pff*," she breathed heavily, in and out, a fat hand pressed against her bloated, sagging breasts.  "I need ta... need ta..." she gave a grunt and hiked her pants up, breathing hard, third chin oozing onto her collarbone.  "I need ta... *hff*... go ahead and get mah disability sticker... need to park in the handicap spaces, ASAP.  Should be able to already... *hff*... fuckin' guvmint..."  She glanced off to the left.  The McDonald's inside the Wal-Mart was gleaming at her, its double arches an instant provider of comfort--and, for that matter, of longing.  Pavita smacked her beak, making her cheeks jiggle.  She was feeling a bit peckish.  "I can shop *hff* in a bit..." she said, waddling into the McDonald's.

No one was in line, so she trundled to the counter.  The young man at the front knew those acres of tits anywhere.  "Heya, Miss Pavey!"

Pavita smirked coyly at him as she finally caught her breath.  "Howdy there, Travis.  How y'all doin' today?"

"Pretty good.  What'll it be?"

"Hmm... I'm gonna have..." Pavita had to stop herself from drooling as she looked over the menu.  She loved McDonald's, loved it.  It was one of her favorite things about living in America.  Since the first bite of her first Big Mac, she hadn't been able to get enough.  "I'm gonna have two Big Macs, two Quarter-Pounders with cheese, a Filet-O-Fish sandwich, and four large orders of fries."

"Anything to drink?"

"Oh, you know me, hun," said Pavita, drumming a finger on her bloated lower belly roll.  "Just a large Diet Coke."

"Got it, ma'am," said Travis, and he told her the amount.  She extended her debit card, paid, and looked around for a place to sit.  Pavita wasn't oblivious to how obese she'd gotten.  It didn't cause her to cease her gluttony and sloth, but it did cause her to be mindful of where she sat.  A booth was out of the question at her size.  Fortunately, a table was available, so she slowly rippled towards it.  She pulled out the two chairs on one side, and huffed and wheezed as she lowered herself into both seats.  Each buttock took up more than a seat, and her bottom oozed over the sides of each chair.  Her tail feathers perked up in the space between each chair, twitching in excitement.  Her breasts were so enormous that they oozed onto more than half of the table.  Pavita poked them idly.  Her tits could be annoying sometimes.  But she wouldn't give them up for the world.

"Here ya go, Miss Pavey!" said Travis, setting down the tray onto the other side of the table.  Pavita smacked her beak, drool oozing onto her chins.

But she saw Travis staring at her acres of boobage, and she smiled, in spite of her greed.  "Ya always do love a show, don't ya, Travis?"

"I, uh, um, I, Miss Pavey, I..."  Pavita smiled with rippling chins as she watched Travis try to hide his erection.  She put her flabby arms onto either side of her vast boobage and gave them a squeeze, causing huge amounts of fatty, feathery flesh to bulge out of the neck of her t-shirt.

Pavita smiled as she knew she'd hit paydirt: Travis stumbled backwards, and she could see a stain spreading across his crotch.  "Ya need to learn to relax, hun," she said, picking up a Big Mac and taking a huge bite.  Her eyes rolled back into her head.  "MFmfmr," she mumbled, mouth full of beef and bun and cheese and pickles and special sauce.  "Fuckin... good..."

Travis jizzed in his pants all over again watching Pavita eat.  The quarter-ton turkey ate with a particular zest for food, her fat face betraying her especial love of eating tasty things.  Living in Gainesville had exposed Pavita to the joys of trashy American food, and she loved it with a fierce passion.  Cheeseburgers, chili cheese fries, french fries, tacos, burritos, pizza--it was all absolutely nothing like she'd gotten growing up as a child in Cuba, and she couldn't get enough of it.  Gorging herself on fast food was almost a religious experience.  It was a big part of why she'd gotten so fat.

"*BUUUOOOORRRRPPP!!!*," belched Pavita, a loud, masculine burp.  She was finished with her food, and set a fat hand contemplatively on her bloated gut.  She looked to the side and saw Travis there, holding a wad of napkins.  She smirked.  "Ya'll sure are thoughtful, Travis."

"Y-You're such a good customer, Miss Pavey..."

"Mmm, could ya mind reaching to wipe that pickle off the edge there?" said Pavita, nodding at a far edge of her left breast.  Travis gaped at the massive expanse of booby flesh that awaited him, and then he carefully, delicately wiped the pickle off the t-shirt.  Pavita enjoyed his awkwardness.  Teenage boys in America were so much fun.  She smirked.  "Thanks hun."

"D-Don't mention it, Miss Pavey."

"Could ya help me up?  I'm a bit full."

Travis nearly busted a nut a third time as he helped haul Pavita's immensity to her feet.  He squeaked a weak "Bye" at her as she lumbered out of the McDonald's, back into the Wal-Mart proper.  She glanced around the front, heavy body feeling weak as it was filled with food and low on stamina.

Finally, she found what she sought.  "*Buuurrp*," she belched under her breath as she waddled to the mobility scooters.  It was a scant few steps to them, but Pavita was already exhausted.  "Gonna need a nap later..." she mumbled, settling her titanic tush down onto the seat.  This was a special bariatric scooter, but even so, her buttocks oozed over the sides of the seat.  But she gripped the handles, and with a rev of the electric motor, she was out into the store.

She drove her scooter to the bakery, and she knew exactly what she needed.  Thanksgiving was coming up, after all.  It was only a few days away.  The enormous obese turkey-girl jiggled her way into the bakery, and stopped in front of an attendant.  The attendant's eyes lit up as she recognized the fat turkey.  "Oh, hey, Miss Pavey!  How's it going?"

"'s goin' *borrp!* fine, hun," said Pavita, tugging her enormous t-shirt down over the bloated lip of her gut.  "I was wonderin' if you'd get me a few things."

"Sure!  What did you need?"

"Well, I need..." Pavita ticked off a few things on her fat fingers, hoggish face screwing up in thought as she fought the urge to sleep with such a huge meal in her stomach.  "I need... Ah need... nrhgh, I need one pumpkin pie, one apple pie, one chocolate pie, and one mixed berry pie."

"Sure thing, Miss Pavey!  I'll go get those and be right back!"

The attendant left, and Pavita was left lounging obesely in her scooter.  Her fat hands settled comfortably on her engorged lower belly.  The temptation to nap was VERY strong.  She'd done it before, nodded off in the Wal-Mart.  She was so incredibly fat and lazy that the urge to sleep was sometimes too much for her to resist.  The attendants had had to wake her up on more than one occasion.  Her face settled into its fatness, chins bulging outward, as her eyelids grew heavy...

"Miss Pavey!  Miss Pavey!"

But she knew that voice, and it was enough to fend off sleep.  "Aww, hey, Brylie!" called Pavita, massive folds and rolls of fat rippling and jostling against each other as she turned in her seat.  A little blond girl came racing towards her, and had soon buried herself in Pavita's enormous boobs.  "How ya doin'?  Where's yer mama?"

"Right here, hun," said a husky voice, and Pavita watched as a fat blond woman came waddling towards her.  She was not AS fat as Pavita, but she was still quite the heifer, with a massive gut and huge boobs and an ass that jutted behind her.  "I wondered if that was you.  Yer not hard to miss, girl."

"Aww, Skyler, y'all know you can find me here six days outta seven," said Pavita, chuckling deeply.  Skyler was her best friend.  They both worked at the same bank, and had both started there as tellers at the same time.  Skyler had always been on the fat side, and she had been mildly amused to see Pavita get so obese over time.  Skyler still liked to call her "Skinny," which was by now a hilarious in-joke between them.

"So what's new?  Just the usual, stuffin' yer face and takin' a nap?"

"Well I-- BUUUUOOORRRRPPP!!" belched Pavita as Brylie squeezed her in just the right place, eliciting an enormous belch.  But none of the ladies there minded.  Pavita merely chuckled, and said, "Well, hun, this time, actually I'm shoppin'.  The Davises have invited me over for Thanksgiving, and I wanna be a good guest."

"Such a sweetie.  Watcha gettin'?"

"Pie," said Pavita, whose eyes lit up as she saw the attendant approaching with a stack of pies. "I mean, I like pie, y'all like pie, everyone loves pie.  Figure it's a safe bet."

"Here you are, Miss Pavey," said the attendant, setting the four pies into the basket of her scooter.  Pavita could see the topmost one, the pumpkin pie, and she felt a strong urge to eat it.  She just LOVED to eat these days, she'd loved to eat ever since moving to Gainesville.  The urge to pop the top and start cramming bites into her mouth was powerful...

Skyler chuckled as she watched Pavita stare longingly at the pie.  "Ya sure you ain't gonna buy an extra for yerself, Pavey?"

"Hmm, sure is temptin'," said Pavita, fat fingers wiggling just over the lid of the pie box.  But, even amid her overpowering greed, she pulled away.  "But I ain't gonna let myself be a hog."

"Girl, you ARE a hog," said Skyler, poking a finger deep into Pavita's back fat.  "Yer a cute hog, a sweet hog, a nice hog, but t'ain't no denyin' it."

"Ehh, nah, I'm a turkey," said Pavita, wiggling her tail feathers dramatically for effect.  "Ain't y'all heard of stuffin' a turkey?"

This caused Skyler to break out in a laugh, and Pavita joined in, the two obese women rippling and jiggling as their immense flabby bodies shook with laughter.  Brylie laughed as well.

"Well, Skyler, I'd better get goin'," said Pavita, revving her mobility scooter.  "Gotta get home, gotta fill out some forms in time to watch The Masked Singer tonight."

"Oh, man, who you reckon the peacock is?"

"The peacock's totally Ricky Martin," said Pavita.

"Ya think so?" asked Skyler.

"I'd bet a milkshake on it," said Pavita.

"Girl I'll take that bet," said Skyler.  "Let's text on it tomorrow.  See y'all at work."

"Sure thing.  Bye, hun!  Bye, Brylie!"

"Miss Pavey, can I have another hug?"

"Sure thing, sweet pea," said Pavita, spreading her immense fat arms wide.  Brylie bounced forward one last time and buried herself deep into Pavita's obesity, sinking deep into her hugely huge breasts and her immense, bloated gut.  Pavita enjoyed the warmth against her adipose, and was almost sorry when Brylie pulled away and left to join her mama.

Pavita rolled in her scooter towards the checkout, having completed all her shopping.  She thought about Brylie and her warm hugs.  She thought about maybe having a cute girl of her own, somebody to be girly with.  "Fuckin' hell I gotta get laid first," said Pavita.  "Been ages since I been screwed."  She gave her jutting belly roll a tap.  "Need a man who can handle all this big bitch."  She rolled through the checkout, but as she was there she saw an amazing prize: an entire box of Twinkies, on sale for a mere three dollars.  Pavita licked her lips.  She loved Twinkies!  It was too good to resist.  So she grabbed a box and dumped it into her basket.

"So glad you had another good time with us, Miss Pavey," said the checkout girl.

"I always have a good time with y'all!" said Pavita, smiling brightly.

"Well you been comin' here for a while, Miss Pavey," said the checkout girl, putting her pies in a large plastic bag.  "Reckon you wouldn't come back if we were nasty to ya."

"I come back 'cause I like y'all," said Pavita, smiling as she saw her put the Twinkie box in the basket as well.  "T'ain't no more to it."

As Pavita rolled back towards the mobility scooter area, she saw Travis standing there along with a male Wal-Mart worker.  "Howdy, Travis," said Pavita.

"H-Hey, Miss Pavey," said Travis.  The stain was still on the crotch of his pants.  "I figured you always seem to hate gettin' out of your scooter, so I got Mike here and I figured we'd give you a hand."

Pavita saw Travis gaping openly at her.  She felt the huge nipples of her enormous breasts start to stiffen.  "Well, SURE, hun," she said, extending her bloated, flabby arms.  "Y'all help me up, I got a heavy load in this gut and I'm feeling mighty tired."

So Travis and Mike began to heavily extract her from the scooter.  Pavita took notice of all the feels Travis copped of her mammoth tits, of how he gave one of her back fat rolls a squeeze as he shoved her up out of the scooter.  It was something to keep in mind for the future.

Finally, when she was huffing and puffing, she was on her feet, and she had her bags in her hands.  "*Pff,* *hff*, *wheeze*, y'all are *huff* sure so nice," said Pavita, arching her back as the overwhelming weight of her breasts momentarily got to her.  Most of the time, her obese belly acted as a pillow for those titanic tits, taking the weight off her back.  But every now and then, she felt it.  "Travis, maybe I'll have y'all help me shop sometime."

"I, uh, M-Miss Pavey, I..."

"See ya next time," said Pavita, waddling towards the doors.  They parted around her.  "*Hff*, *pff*, *hff*, *pff*," she breathed.  She wheezed, panting, waddling heavily across the parking lot, belly and breasts leading the way, ass bouncing along behind her.

At last she reached her car, sweet oozing between the folds and rolls of her acres and acres of flab.  She pried the door of her TrailBlazer open, and the entire car creaked and groaned, leaning heavily to the side, as Pavita forced her way inside.  She crammed and grunted, stuffing and pushing, forcing her overwhelming quantity of fatty flesh into the confined space.

Finally, she had packed herself into the driver's seat, dumping the groceries into the passenger seat.  She closed the door; it bounced once or twice against the packed mass of fatty flab that resisted it.  "Now, Ah gotta--" she paused, she stopped, she fidgeted--

*FRRRRTTTT*

"Ah, lawd, I'm glad that didn't happen inside," said Pavita, waving a hand demurely in front of her face as the flatulence spread through the car.  "Gawd, just once I'd like to eat and not get gassy.  Was all worth it, though."  She glanced at the passenger seat.  She saw the lip of the pumpkin pie again, and the urge to pop the top of the container and stuff her face became very strong.  But she knew herself very well at this point.  She knew what a gluttonous fat hog, what a stuffed turkey, she had become, and was always going to be.  So she reached for the box of Twinkies in the other bag.  Prying it open, she grabbed a package and unwrapped it with a crinkling of plastic.  "Lawdy, lawdy, Ah sure do love a good snack..." said Pavita, beginning to cram the Twinkies into her mouth.  "Mrmrf, nfnf, mrgl," she mumbled as she stuffed her face.

END