Joanna sashayed after her mother. the rewritten months of dealing with a constantly thickening body had conditioned her body to move differently. She couldn't help but swing her hips salaciously. Hips swaying, heels tapping, boobs bouncing and her cheeks clapping. She moved like something out of a porno, some street hooker begging for attention with her body. It was humiliating to think how little control she had over her image, even more humiliating was the secret thrill inside her.
Her mother was steadily pulling ahead. It was a struggle to keep everything balanced and moving at anything faster than a snail's pace. Joanna tottered forward in her heels, her arms held out behind her and her chest pushed forward like some strutting peacock. Those four globes of hormone soaked fat were constantly in motion and threatening to pull the poor girl down. Memories of running or jogging evaporated under the burden of carrying that dumptruck of cake behind her. Her mother didn't seem to noticed Joanna lagging behind, prattling on about her daughter's cumbersome proportions.
"I can't believe you're still growing! You know 'second puberty' is only figure of speech, right?" Her mother teased. "Knowing you and that big butt of yours, you'd probably add another zero to the freshman fifteen. Of course, girls like you don't go to college do they?" And the comments just kept coming. All anyone ever talked about was her oversized body. Joanna couldn't remember the last conversation that didn't involve her fat ass or bloated tits, constantly reminding her of how big and cumbersome she had become. "Goodness, we'll have to make sure we buy the biggest milker they have," her mother called over her shoulder. "And if you keep sneaking treats, we'll just take you to a farm."
That's it.
"No!" Joanna stood her ground.
"What do you mean no," her mother indulged the indignant young woman.
"I don't want a milker!" Joanna stomped her foot, coming off as a petulant bimbo. It's difficult to look intimidating, stomping her foot in heels and bouncing her mammoth curves.
"What, would you rather walk around with those leaky tits of yours? I bet you would," her mother retorted.
"No, don't want to deal with milk at all," Joanna ranted. "No woman have to deal with fucking milk tanks like these!" She grabs her enormous boobs. "Woman don't lactate unless they're pregnant and even they don't get these. How is being paraded around like some fat cow the female experience?" She stood there, squeezing her fists. Breath ragged and heart pounding in her chest, waiting for her mother's response.
Her mother closed her eyes and took a calming breath. When she opened her eyes, Joanna could already see the machinations forming behind those eyes.
"You don't see the lesson I'm trying to teach? Fine." Joanna's mother pulls out her phone. "We'll try a different lesson."
Joanna could do nothing but wait for her mother to add another ordeal.