“Duck down.” I told Debbie as we approached.Debbie laid herself across the front seat and ended up with her head on my lap. That was not what I h...d expected but I have to say it felt good. As we passed under the street lights, I could glance down and see her looking up at me grinning.A minute later we were at the spot. Jerry was already there as were a small group of onlookers. These things always attracted a small crowd. I rolled down my window as I pulled up my car next to his. I. "This is for you Pansy, Ididn't bother to clean out the bowl so you can share some of the dog'sdinner too. Here's a spoon to eat with so that you don't spoil yourmakeup. Now, get down on your knees and tuck in, I want to see you eatevery scrap and lick the dog's bowl clean when you are finished."Pansy took the spoon from Debbie, struggling to hold it with her longtalons and said, "Thank you, Mistress Debbie," and gave her a littlecurtsy. She knelt down in front of the dog bowl and, supporting. If only she could ever think of herself as plump. Or tubby. Or stout. Or generously built. But Fatima knew that such words were just euphemisms for the same thing, Fat. Gross. Obese. She studied her naked reflection in the wall-length mirror, which was too narrow to encompass the whole of her girth. She was sure she wasn’t ugly as such. She studied her face. Wasn’t her face quite pretty from certain angles? But from the chin down: fold after fold of light brown flesh, overflowing any clothes. "Oh yes, here we go. I wish I waswearing a black fine-mesh fitted shirt with a low cut blackvinyl purple laced bustier over it, a dark-purple knee-length straight skirt with black lace overlay, very sheerblack stockings and garter belt, black thong panties, andknee high black vinyl boots with pointed toes and purplesparkled laces. I wish you were wearing low-slung vinyljeans with silver sparkles, a black fishnet shirt, amidriff-length black slashed-up shirt with a silver anarchysymbol on the.
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