You stare anxiously at the unforgiving little red hand flashing before you on the sign, willing it to morph into the leniant little fellow who told you to walk. Getting antsy, you start checking your watch in ten second intervals, as if simply willing it to change would speed up the process of time. Your eyebrows crease slightly as you focus your innate frustration from your hectic school year (and slowly increasing girth over which) into your stare, hoping that the little hand would sympathize with you and make his job quick. However, it seemed that the flashing appendage on the sign actually started to blink slower. Jerk.
So focused on your staring contest with the walk/don't walk sign, you hardly seem to notice the slight tremors that accompanied your fanclub as they closed in on you (having studied your sleep habits the entire first semester). Slowly, their fat bodies waddled eagerly up to you, hoping to perhaps catch your gaze and steal your heart with their feminine wiles as their estrogen crazed bodies plodded closer and closer to the only boy in the school for them to pour their affections onto. If this was a fairer world, Chubbeso Academy would have been a co-ed school (or at least let you know they were coming with like, a neon sign or something) But unfortunately, this was a cruel and harsh world that had unfortunately granted your dream of being surrounded by women. Even now as they inched closer and closer to the object of affection, you remained clueless to their presence...
Until one of them reached out and touched your hair.
In a swift, jerking motion you turn around to face the first dread of the day: the CJ fanclub that had been established shortly after you enrolled; dedicated to studying, pampering, and above all loving CJ Dalton. Unfortunately, you were CJ Dalton. Eyes as wide as many of the dinner plates your heavyset fan girls have surely licked clean, your standing position quickly becomes a mad dash for school, a sanctuary that proved just a little bit safer than out in the rich neighborhood you had settled into. You jaywalk past the flashing sign, coincidentally only now flashing the okay for you to start walking, and run like a hysterical Kermit the Frog in your frantic dash for escape from the lovesick gaggle of lardos behind you!
Luckily, you were in much better shape than either of the ten-some-odd girls tailing you, ("How'd that big one even squeeze into her uniform?!") and escape was fairly easy. But, like a hoard of zombies, the fat girls followed you clutching their heaving chests in search of air to fill their lungs. And actually, that new paunch of yours is weighing you down somewhat! You feel tired and sluggish every morning, but only now are you starting to feel the effects of your lazy rich lifestyle as you yourself start hobbling down the sidewalk in a frantic dash for safety and adequate oxygen amounts. Finally, it happened; you couldn't run anymore.
Slowly, the chubby girls drew closer and closer to your gasping, wheezing body. You look around in a desperate attempt to find some thing blunt to start swinging (hey, act like animals, treat them like animals!) only to find that there was nothing. All you could do was lay back and accept that they had gotten you this morning... no telling what they would do to you now...
However, just as melodrama often was, the chase was shortlived as a black limo pulled up right beside you. Stepping out of the frontmost passenger seat was a rather plump woman in a chauffer's outfit. Without much hesitation, she easilly lifted your 185 pound frame and hoisted you into the back, heading back up to the front seat, sliding over to the driver's side, and immediately putting her pedal to the metal.
Dazed and confused, you look around the plushly apholstered limousine for signs of a definate answer. Not even 9 'o' clock in the morning and your day was already stranger than most people's. However as your coherency returns to you, you start to recognize the familiar purple decor around the limo and a strange wave of normality hits you; for while you had narrowly escaped the cruel faceless pan that was the CJ fanclub, you may have just been tossed into the familiar, though just as disturbing fire that was the Princess of Chubbeso academy, your absolute #1 fan girl.
You looked at her, seated directly across from your slack body laying down on her carpeted floor. Even at an astonishing 320 pounds, there was no denying that this princess had killer looks to match her killer curves. With round, rosy and appled cheeks that melded into her giblet so smoothly, resting on her huge breasts which in turn rested on a billowing belly. She was so wide that her doughy arms had been pushed out to the side, even as she sat down, in order to better acommodate her large lovehandles that hung from her waist. In her school uniform, altered of course, her chubby knees were on display as were her blubbery calves, since you were already thrown to her feet kneeling to the princess, you couldn't help but notice that she had kicked off her shoes in order to keep comfortable. Her strawberry blond hair rested upon her shoulders, frontmost layer draping all the way down to her breasts, and bunched up as she rose slightly to greet you. "Good morning CJ!" her tone was always informal towards you, considering just how highly she thought of both you and herself.
You can only smile gratefully, "Good morning Princess!" you say somewhat sarcastically, causing her to pout, "Oh CJ you know I hate that nickname, call me Claire, please call me Claire!" she giggled, causing her expanse to wobble about somewhat in her still-seated position. You slowly shift yourself to a more posture-friendly position to the seat across from Claire Masters, the daughter of your principal, and try to engage in non-awkward conversation with her; which was pretty hard with her. "Yeah, yeah, anyway thanks a lot for helping me out back there." she was always doing stuff like that, which was probably good. Whenever Rebecca and Kate weren't there to help you out with a hastily made disguise or pull you behind the counter, Claire always seemed to do a good job of fending off the hormone-crazed, man hungry blobs that inhabited Chubbeso Academy... though Claire may be more of a converted enemy than a friend like your other blobs.
"No problem, hey you wanna walk me to class today?" she asked eagerly, striking a small pose and winking at you; only for you to decline, like you always did. Every morning. Since Enrollment. Six Months ago. "Sorry, I'm meeting Rebecca and Kate outside their lockers..." you trail off slightly before realizing the inevitable, "Oh no! I'm late, they're gonna think I ditched them!!"
Claire huffed, "Hmph, Rebecca, I hate that snotty cow." she stuck out her lower lip and crossed her arms, "But since you're late, and we all so conveniently have the same home room, we can just show up together can't we!" she squealed. You could only laugh, having friends with connections really paid off sometimes. "Sounds like a plan, Princess."
"Claire, call me Claire!!"
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