The Queen of Cabin Nine: Part 45 (Patreon)

Author's Note:  We've arrived at the epilogue, this epilogue takes place nine months after the events of Amber's eventful summer, and will consist of a few extra parts to the story.  I am not sure how many parts yet.  This epilogue is really my vision of the ending, I think the original story probably would have ended where I left part 44.  This  epilogue is the last phase of this story, as far as I'm concerned, so I hope you enjoy the start to it!  This update is about 2,100 words.  I've run out of time tonight to finish an additional post on TQOC9 or TDD, so I'll get myself to 4,000 words total for this week either Saturday or Sunday.

Thanks again for all the continued support, I really appreciate it, you all are great! 

-Polaris

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The Queen of Cabin Nine

Warning: This is a retelling/reimaging of a classic unfinished WG tale originally authored by the great Greinskyn and titled, “Practical Joke.” This retold version is an adult/fetish story involving weight gain, stuffing, and revenge.  If this isn’t your type of thing, please don't read it.

By polarisdreamer

Part 45; Preston, Minesota; Nine Months Later…

“Turn here Darrel. Left! Left!” Abby barked at her husband, as he reluctantly slowed their minivan and hesitated.

“But the GPS says…” He pointed at the screen, while he looked upon his heavily pregnant wife in the passenger seat with worry. Abby was excellent at many things, but directions were not one of them. Furthermore, ever since he’d gotten her pregnant, her already short temper had grown even shorter, as she’s grown ever larger. At the wedding last September, she’d walked down the isle a soft, but shapely 200 pounds. The lightest she’d been since they’d started dating. Now, eight months pregnant, she was back up to waddling around at 246 pounds on her 5’8 frame.

“Darrel! TURN HERE! It’s called a shortcut!” Abby snapped, causing her flustered husband to abruptly obey and jerk the car into the nearest suburban street, “Easy!  Not so fast, what are you doing?”

“Sorry, I’m just… Driving.” Darrel sighed trying not to irritate his hormonal wife further.

“Well do better. Think of the baby.” Abby quickly replied, as Darrel drove her ever closer to her parents’ house for Amber’s surprise graduation party later in the afternoon. They were only a few blocks away, but it seemed like Abby’s mood was souring by the minute. Probably because her parents had never thrown her a graduation party after college, or even medical school.

It was then, out of the corner of his eye that he spotted an attractive blonde, with a perky butt, super tight abdominals, and a flawless stride. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and her forehead was covered by a pink sweatband. In terms of clothes, she was wearing nothing but pink short shorts, and a pink sports bra. They passed her jogging on the sidewalk opposite to the lane they were driving in.

“Was that Amber?” Darrel questioned, recalling his disbelief during their wedding last September when Abby’s formerly flawless younger sister showed up noticeably chunkier than her taller older sister.

“Oh my gosh, was it??” Abby squawked, trying to tilt her heavily pregnant self around to get a glimpse of her. She only saw her for an instant, but the jogger certainly did resemble her sister before the events of last summer with Amber’s birth control issues, and significant weight gain. It was hard to know for sure since at the end of the previous summer Amber had a meltdown and deleted all of her social media accounts and never reactivated any of them for some reason. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her swollen stomach, as she began to feel twice as huge as she already was, Abby sighed, “I kind of hope not. I don’t want to be the fat sister again.”

“You’re not the fat sister, you’re the pregnant sister.” Darrel tried to correct his clearly insecure wife. Placing a hand on her plump thigh. Her pregnancy weight had really given her the makings of a much more motherly figure, widened hips, cushier ass and thighs, a massive belly, and supremely swollen breasts.

“Fat compared to her,” Abby argued in no mood for Darrel’s attempts to cheer her up, “and pregnant.”

“You shouldn’t talk like that. It’s not a contest.” Darrel replied trying to sooth his clearly hormonal wife.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Abby shot back not skipping a beat, as Darrel made the final turn onto her parent’s street.

“I guess not.” Darrel replied internally debating if he should park in the driveway or on the street.

“You’re annoying me.” Abby blurted crossing her arms and resting them upon her convenient table of a round belly.

“I’ll shut up then.” Darrel sighed at his wits end right now. He loved Abby more than life itself, but sometimes being trapped in a car with her was just tough.

The silence between them probably lasted about four or five complete seconds before Abby piped up, “You know I don’t like the silent treatment.”

“Oh my gosh I’m not giving you the silent treatment. I feel like I’m stepping on eggshells right now sweetie, jeez.” He expressed in disbelief.

“Park-on-the-street.” Abby quickly snapped, as Darrel slowed the minivan once again.

“What? Bark at a jeep? You’re talking too fast. What did you just say??” Darrel sincerely hummed trying to unravel what his wife had just said.

“PARK. ON. THE. STREET.” Abby slowly and loudly barked, before adding, “You need hearing aids.”

‘Or you could just talk slower…’ Darrel thought to himself before sheepishly replying, “I probably do.”

Parking on the street in front of Abby’s parent’s house, no sooner did he take the keys out than Abby sweetly requested, “Babe, would you help me out of the car? This belly is like an anchor.”

She’d been saying that line for months now. At first it had just been a joke but as her stomach had really popped in size and weight, what started as a joke had now become a sincerely earnest request. Between Abby’s center of gravity changing and all the extra weight she’d packed on, it was a real struggle to stand herself up when sitting down. It was now a laborious effort, and on a hot summer day like this, absolutely sweat inducing.

“Of course.” Darrel sweetly hummed, as he got out of the car, walked around to Abby’s side and helped his pregnant wife to her feet. It seemed like each and every time he did this, he had to pull a little harder than the last time. Either Abby wasn’t trying as much as she used to, or the weight of the pregnancy was really impeding her mobility. Or possibly both…

With Abby up on her feet, he held her hand, as she slowly and methodically waddled toward the open garage.

“Shouldn’t we ring the front doorbell?” Darrel asked, as Abby just waved his concern aside.

“The garage door is closer.” Abby grunted, as if any extra time spent on her feet right now was some cruel and unusual punishment.

“Okay.” Darrel nodded, while he took a few steps ahead of his wife and opened the door that connected the family’s garage to their kitchen. Extending a hand, he helped Abby up the step and followed behind her widened rear as she entered.

Upon stepping into the kitchen, a hulking shelf of an ass greeted them, bending over in front of the fridge. Its familiar rounded and bulbous appearance belonged to none other than Abby’s mom. The loose dress she was wearing was, well, supposed to be loose on her, but her bulging obese figure tightly hugged every inch of the fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. Even though Abby was pregnant, her mother’s ass dwarfed Abby’s in width and girth by an unquestionable margin. It truly deserved its own zip code.

“Phew! It is hot outside!” Abby sighed arching her arms behind her back and stretching, before complaining to her mother, “I need something to drink.”

“Lemonade? Or iced tea?” Her mother questioned sounding like she had something in her mouth. Abby quickly spotted a container of empty Entenmann’s donuts on the counter.

‘Typical.’ Abby thought rolling her eyes, gently rubbing her belly and wishing her mother had left her at least one donut before taking another moment to make up her mind and reply, “Lemonade please. Gotta be careful how much caffeine Darrel Jr. gets.”

“Stop calling him Darrel Jr. That’s not the name we agreed on.” Darrel reminded his wife, as she silently told him to ‘zip it’ with a clear and obvious hand signal.

“Alright, just give me a minute.” Abby’s mom sighed, probably trying to finish however many donuts she’d managed to sneak down her greedy throat before they’d barged in.

“Thanks mom. You’re the best.” Abby chirped as she waddled toward the refrigerator in anticipation for her cold and refreshing drink.

“Ummmmmmm… Mom???” She shrieked after an audible gulp. Heaving her considerable bulk upright and jerking her head around, her cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

‘It can’t be…’ Abby’s brain echoed, while her jaw dropped and she blurted in disbelief, “AMBER???”

Amber just stood speechless, while Abby curiously pressed her finger into Amber’s globular gut, as if to see that the roly-poly bundle of lard standing in front of her was indeed her formerly flawless younger sister. Amber easily used to be the fittest and prettiest girl in town, every girl wanted to be her, Abby included. Abby had been the ‘fat one’ for what felt like forever, contrasting Amber’s long-entitles status as the ‘hot one,’ but now as Abby poked and prodded a heaping handful of excess adipose tissue clinging to Amber’s bulging frame, it was clear to her that Amber’s ability to turn heads and inspire jealousy had long since vanished.

It was Amber who now inhabited the waistband-straining awkward status of being the ‘fat sister’ by a country mile. Abby was big, but she was pregnant, what was Amber’s excuse for that cocoon of bulbous blubber she’s amassed all over herself? This much of a change couldn’t have possibly been because of her birth control issues. To Abby’s eyes, Amber must have packed on north of a hundred pounds since she last saw her in September.

‘Oh how the tables had turned…’ The spiteful side of her mind couldn’t help but think, savoring the image in her mind of Amber’s figure’s downfall.

“Not quite the varsity athlete you used to be anymore, huh?” Abby teased, as Amber’s chubby face appeared to burn even brighter, “What were they feeding you at that college? I think your beer belly might be bigger than mine.  And I'm pregnant!”

“Not a chance.” Amber managed to weakly grunt, not sounding too sure of herself.

“Darrel, grab a tap measure!” Abby snapped, as Darrel took the first opportunity he could to get the heck out of there.  Thinking he was complying with her order, she chirped, “Good man.”

“Darrel! Don’t!” Amber desperately called after her sister’s husband, before chastising her sister, “What is your problem!?”

“I’m pregnant. It’s hot today. And I’m thirsty. What’s your problem?? How did you get so fat?? You look like you weigh more than mom!” Abby shot back in rapid succession.

“My birth control blew me up. You know that!” Amber snapped, her blubbery belly jiggling as she spoke.

“We sorted that out months ago. No way birth control did ALL THIS,” Abby exclaimed, tickling Amber’s girthy underbelly to prove a point, “You must be overeating like, constantly.”

“I am not. All the women in our family pork up when they get to be my age. Whether I’ve been eating too much or not, I was always destined to gain weight. It’s just genetic.” Amber declared, sounding quite desperate for some sympathy.

“Genetics load the gun, habits pull the trigger,” Abby echoed one of Amber’s formerly favorite phrases to use against her, before poking Amber in the belly and finishing her thought, “Let’s be realistic here, you must be gorging yourself on food constantly. Admit it.”

“No!” Amber refuted so intensely she believed her single defiant word might actually become the truth.

“What’s going on in here?” A voice, unfamiliar to Abby, reverberated through the kitchen as a tall and handsome young man strode through the door.

“My sister is being super RUDE!” Amber huffed, energized by nothing but pure embarrassment at this whole exchange. Being mistaken for her mother was frankly a sucker punch to her sorely swollen gut. Amber preferred to believe Abby was just busting her chops, but the honest side of her brain knew Abby’s mistake could have been genuine. After all, Amber had raided the dress she was wearing from her obese mother’s closet, and worse yet, it was embarrassingly tight.

“Who are you?” Abby asked the young man now putting his arm around her fattened up younger sister.

“He’s my boyfriend. Bobby.” Amber informed her older sister, much to Abby’s pure and utter disbelief. Bobby was an absolute 10/10, flawless in physique, height, fashion, hairline, and height, again. He had to be at least 6’4. Total dreamboat.

Compared to him Amber was so suspiciously short and fat. Abby couldn’t fathom how this mismatch of a couple could have happened. He was totally out of Amber’s league in her current beefed up and swollen state. And then it hit her.

‘Maybe he’s a chubby chaser.’ Abby mused to herself, before her racing thoughts decided Amber was way too fat to be classified as chubby, so she tried to think of a more appropriate term, ‘Or a… fat… follower? Actually, is there a term for a guy who prefers women that big?’

“Ugh. Let’s get out of here.” Amber scoffed, grabbing her boyfriend’s hand and leading him out of the kitchen, presumably to Amber’s room.

Abby just let them leave without another word, her eyes mesmerized by the way Amber’s lumbering movements now lacked any semblance of agility or grace.

 'How the mighty have fallen...'