Rosie Cheeks Ch. 01: First Date Jitters

She redoubled her efforts, attempting to bend her knees and force her way forward from a lower angle, held back as if she was dragging the world's heaviest sled through a thicket behind her. A horrible thought came to her, and she envisioned her three dormmates stumbling upon her in this graceless state. The vicious mockery she would endure! And her cheeks, still exposed to them as she flailed about helplessly, utterly incapable of resisting their volleys of grabs, slaps, and verbal daggers as they hurled biting remark after biting remark into her prison within the stall. Her freckled cheeks turned dark crimson at the mere thought, and she felt a twinge in her stomach. Her awful vision was broken by uncaring reality, amplified mumbles of the outside crowd and a sickening creak. The tormentors had again opened the door!

Shooting a desperate glance over her shoulder, Rosaline noticed with immense relief that her full lower body had at last been crammed into the stall in its entirety! She resisted the urge to cheer, and saw a beaming, if not flush and sweaty smiling face in the mirror through the stall's open door...

THE DOOR! She had completely forgotten to close the door! Immediately she leaned back, her colossal cheeks impacting with most of her back as she reached desperately over them with her woefully ill-suited arms to close the door behind her. There was simply nothing to grab hold of; the door was still a foot and a half from her fully extended fingers. She tried to stand on her toes and lean back further to allow her purchase, but her already packed-in ass impacted the inner edge of the doorway and would go no further. No! The girls' voices were closer now, loud, catty, and accompanied by three sets of meandering footsteps making their way to the mirror. She was out of time! Absolute despair washed over Rosaline as she struggled against the dimensions of her own body, hoping and praying her arm would spontaneously lengthen to save her from humiliation.

How many other people have to cope with this bullshit?! The young woman thought, her nostrils flaring. How many other people have an ass so stupidly fat they can't do something so SIMPLE as closing a door behind them?!?! Positively fuming at the injustice of it all, she gave a final lurch forward, her enormous cakes carrying the entirely of the stall with them. Rosaline's tomb creaked and shook at her sudden rebellion to its restraint, and for a moment she shot forward, catching herself with her hands on the cool porcelain of the toilet lid, just as stuck as she had been before. Again, she glared over her shoulder, a scowl adorning her face as she stood ready to face the three harpies as best she could....

But Rosaline noticed a doorway that for the moment displayed a distinct lack of Bailey, Becca, and Britney -- and what was more, the door had closed slightly! She gasped softly, not nearly loud enough to be head over the caterwauling of the rapidly approaching girls behind her. Her movement must have shook the stall to the point that the door had incrementally closed behind her! Thoughts racing, Rosaline planted her feet and began to wobble her hips back and forth, desperate to recreate the movement. She had precious little time, but as she raged against her restraints with one hip after the other, the door began to close more and more! She shook faster. The entirety of the stalls began to creak back and forth in response to her weight, and her mountain of gluteal fat and muscle wobbled obscenely behind her. Rosaline shot her hands back to contain the cheeks as much as she could to prevent an audible clapping, but even with the aid of her arms her cheeks managed to collide independently once or twice. Thankfully, the perfect conditions had not been right for her signature thunderous booty clap, and the door became completely closed just as the bony frame of Becca Barker enter her field of vision. She had succeeded!

The perhaps too well-endowed woman immediately ceased her gyrations and reassessed the situation as the stall once again became still, just in time to escape notice by the three girls that had entered the bathroom. Rosaline was still far too wide for any attempt to face any direction but straight forward to be possible, and thus completely unable to latch the door shut, but that would be fine so long as the door remained closed. Panting silently and returning her hands to the toilet seat, she began to listen to her tormentors' conversation...

"Becca, you're soooo annoying," rang out one of the familiar valley-girl style wails. This had to be Britney. "You seeing some loser isn't worth blocking the bathroom door."

"Bitch, whatever." The shrill voice of Becca rose up to greet that of her companion, sounding like nails on a chalkboard. "If I didn't show him to you, I wouldn't be able to talk shit about him to you, now would I?"

A piglike snort of laughter erupted from behind Rosaline, and Bailey retorted "She does have a point, babe. Did you SEE those glasses? Hun, this isn't Hogwarts. Buy something that doesn't make you look like an ant."

Rosaline's heart sank. Max wore round glasses, and indeed she actually found them a little cute. A little burst of rehearsed laughter masked the sound of her sigh.

"I will admit, think I know him, too," Britney guffawed. "He works at the coffee shop on Main. Matt, or something."

"You associate with people like that, hun?" Becca cooed. "I really thought better of you."

"Bitch, I just said I've seen him," snapped Britney. The overpowering smell of perfume made Rosaline want to hurl. She resisted the urge, desperate to stay hidden despite her immobility. "Besides, I think he may be interesting for a few more reasons than his dumbass glasses."

"Oh?" purred Bailey, suddenly sounding interested.

"I'll tell you in a sec, I have to pee."

Every muscle in Rosaline's body became rigid. That was it. It had been a valiant effort, but she was doomed to be discovered. She shot yet another glance over her petite shoulder, but in this bent-over position couldn't hope to see a thing beyond her bulwark of an ass. Sighing, she closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable laughter that would accompany Britney opening the door to reveal Rosaline's monstrous butt, filling the entirety of the stall, obscuring its owner, and completely unable to recede from any torture they decided to inflict...

Her eyes were still shut when she heard the stall door to her left open. In spite of herself, Rosaline breathed a sigh of relief. Britany had chosen the last remaining empty stall. Silence permeated the space, and in her relief Rosaline's thoughts turned to Max. Poor, poor Max. Stood up, left alone, and ridiculed without his knowledge. In her mind's eye, Rosaline saw him standing dejected, checking his geeky wristwatch, wondering where she was. She had blown it. Her ASS had blown it. Just like it always had and always would. Rosaline reached for her phone to text him, to tell him that she was right there, but it was no use. Her side pocket was compressed blisteringly tightly against the plastic walls along with her hips, and she found it impossible to slip even a finger between them to attempt a rescue effort for her phone. Of course.

To her right, the opposing stall door opened. She heard the thief of the largest stall make her way to the sink and turn on the faucet. The other fiendish occupants paid her no mind. What were they doing, Rosaline wondered? Checking their makeup, or texting some other shallow friends? She could only speculate. The prisoner-of-ass resisted the urge to wriggle about -- her hips were getting sore.

The thief left the bathroom soon after, and before another minute had passed the stall to her left once again opened. "Ok, ok, get this. Bailey, you'll want to hear this."

Rosaline swore she heard Bailey's eyes rotate in their sockets to take in her compatriot. "Well. I'm listening."

"I think," Britney began, "that that bug-eyed freak has a date with a certain someone..."

Rosaline's extremities went cold.

"That... tells me absolutely nothing, Britney."

"Oh!" Chimed in Becca. "That fatty from Delta Phi?" Rosaline could hear the unabated pride in her squirrely voice. "Or, or Morgan from cheer, the one with the ratty hair?"

"Close, your first guess was so close, but no."

Bailey was next. "You don't mean... Thunder Thighs...?"

There was no immediate audible response, but Rosaline could tell that that name could be referring to no one else. She covered her ears, but it did little to hide what came next.

"YES!!!!" Screeched Britney, as she erupted into wicked laughter. He wouldn't shut up about it! Turned around after taking my order and started blabbing with the other baristas about this movie date he had with this cutie name Rosie. What a laugh!"

"No. Way!!!" Becca howled, trying to shush herself with one of her hands. "How did she ever land a date looking like THAT?! Did he bring a CRANE?"

"How can you be so sure it's her?" Bailey interjected with icy precision.

"Because his coworkers asked to see a picture of her at least five times, and he flat out said no! Why be sooo stingy-secretive, unless you're embarrassed about going on a date with a girl you literally couldn't fuck if you tried?!" Britney began to laugh, a horrible, gasping thing that reverberated off the walls and clawed its way into Rosaline's ears. The captive woman's lower lip began to tremble.

"Ok, ok, you make a good point," chuckled Bailey. "But we still don't KNOW it's her. After all, we didn't see her outside."

"And she's impossible to miss!" added Becca with glee.

"Right. So maybe this is just some other Rosie instead of our Blubber-Butt."

"BLUBBER-BUTT?!" Rosaline mouthed the words, genuinely offended. They felt crass and unwieldy on her lips. That was certainly a name for her she had never heard before...

She rotated her miniscule upper body to once again see her massive mounds of ass meat, still hopelessly wedged in the stall.

Though not altogether inaccurate, she conceded with a soft sigh.

"Think what you want, Bailey," challenged Britney, recovering from her truly awful laugh. "That's your girl, for sure."

"Not my girl." Snapped Bailey. "Don't put that shit on me." Rosaline detected the faint hint of laughter in her voice, like the assertion had nearly made her crack up.

"Gross, Britney!" Affirmed Becca. "Who would want to be with someone like that?!"

"Whatever, bitch" Britney huffed, clearly distraught to be on the defensive all of a sudden. "I think we should find her. Let's see how excited that boy is to be on a date with her when he sees she's going to need help fitting that wrecking ball into the theatre!"

Tears were beginning to well up in Rosaline's eyes now. The salt stung her eyes and she put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from sniffling. Oh God, she'd been right. Garrison was exactly like her high school, and the people were exactly like all the cruel, vindictive assholes that teased her for her proportions from it. She'd never get the chance to live a life free of ridicule, she'd never be in a relationship, and she'd never be able to fit into a goddamn normal-sized bathroom stall. She wanted to scream, but the pain in her hips and her heart made her whimper instead.

"You have to admit," Bailey admitted, breaking Rosaline's train of thought. "This is going to be something that happens pretty often."

"Pssssh, what do you mean?" Becca wheezed. "Dates? Her? As if!" Bailey quickly joined in on the laughter, eager to escape the spotlight.

"Bitch hush, I mean it," affirmed Bailey, uncompromising. "With an ass like that, she'll have her pick of the litter when it comes to boys. She just doesn't know it yet."

Rosaline blinked. A few stray tears plopped onto the toilet lid below her.

"Um..." Becca retorted, clearly confused. "Boys are into big butts, sure, but not butts that big."

"Are you kidding me? Boys LOVE a big booty. I should know." A *whap!* echoed throughout the bathroom as Rosaline heard what could only be Bailey spanking herself to annunciate her point. Indeed, her butt was much larger than those of her bratty companions, but it was still dwarfed by the sheer volume of junk in Rosaline's trunk. "For a lot of them it's the bigger the better, and girl, Thunder Thighs has GOT the bigger."

Rosaline wiped her eyes. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"So?" Demanded Britney.

"She comes from a small town," continued Bailey. "Conservative assholes everywhere you look, she was probably told her ass is a crime against God, or whatever. Here it's the fucking HOLY GRAIL, get it? Can you imagine what it'll be like when the sororities get ahold of her? When she starts to party? When she starts to drink? When she learns to twerk?"

Rosaline frowned. Her? Twerking? Not fucking likely. Her ass moved more than enough when all she wanted was for it to stay still.

"More importantly, can you IMAGINE how embarrassing it would be to miss out on a guy because he wanted HER instead? We'd be the laughing stocks of Garrison. Three top-order bitches outdone by a hick that forgot to take her tractor out of her pants. She would have completely gaslit us. It's nightmare fuel. And the parties, and the dances, and the games -- she'll be POPULAR, and the student body will worship her. That spot should be fucking OURS."

There was a brief silence. "Bail," squeaked Becca. "You sound jealous of her."

"I AM jealous of her! And you should be too! She has the edge on us. I want to make a mark on the culture of this school, leave a fucking LEGACY. No one parties harder than me, no one is as fun to be around as me, and no one deserves to be remembered like me. Us, girls. And I won't be erased from campus culture because I got outdone by some... big-assed whore!"

Rosaline might as well have been on another planet. Bailey Mae Cruz? Sophomore Beauty Queen and first-picked pledge for the prestigious Zeta Upsilon? Jealous of... her? The word "whore" had virtually no effect on her. She barely noticed it. This feeling was... euphoric.

"Shit..." Britney added. "I think you might be right, Bail. No one at Garrison will remember our names if DoorJammer steals all our glory. Everyone will be so busy staring at her ass we'll... fade into the background."

"Glory?" Becca asked. "You guys sound... insane."

"SHUT IT, BECCA!" Her companions shrieked at her. Rosaline could swear she heard Becca's heart stop from the stall.

"Ok!" She giggled, seemingly oblivious to the anger of her partners.

Rosaline took it all in. These three girls had seemingly made it their mission to ruin her, and it was because they were jealous... despite her worries, her heart soared. She wanted to burst out laughing. This was the inner world of three of the most popular girls at Garrison University? The three B's weren't so high and mighty anymore, were they? They were SCARED of her, her and her fat ass. Rosaline began to shudder with a sadistic joy. She could never be what they though she would be, but that didn't mean she couldn't use that fear against them. Finally, she had a way to fight back.

"So, what do we do?" asked Britney, her shrill voice ever so slightly cracking.

There was silence. Deliberation. And then Bailey spoke: "We let her have her date. The boy's a dweeb -- he doesn't have the confidence to keep her around for long. And when she stops getting messages from him, that's when we strike. Make her feel like her ass is a curse, like it'll disgust anyone who gets close. If we lay it on thick enough, and often enough, we can keep her stuck in the gutter where she belongs." With that, Bailey began to make her way to the bathroom door. Rosaline just barely heard Britney chortle "Good idea, Bail!" Before the three B's had left the bathroom, and left Rosaline in stunned silence.

"Evil assholes," Rosaline said aloud, her throat nearly dry from her forced silence. Stoically, she began the arduous process of extracting herself from the stall, arching her back and pushing her butt away from the interior wall, wiggling it to reduce friction and ease its journey back to the pitifully tight doorframe. It was an easier process than her entry, as her ability to push rather than pull allowed her much more power, but it still took considerable effort. Her giant assets still slid along the walls of the stall and came to a complete halt as she reached the doorframe. She pushed with all her might, but her ass only squished further against the opening in response, only succeeding in bouncing the door to the stall wide open once again.

"Ngh... come... come on..." she grumbled. Before long she gave up the futile approach of a simple reverse departure and began to twitch her hips to the left as she pushed backward, attempting instead to work one of her mammoth asscheeks out of the stall at a time. Rosaline rolled her eyes. She felt absolutely ridiculous.

"Gah! Stupid... thing!" With one final twitch, her left buttcheek came bursting out of the stall, accompanied by a deafening CRACK! Rosaline barely noticed as she pulled forward, only to be stopped by her right cheek, which was still wedged inside at her odd angle.

"C'mon, yes..." Rosaline beamed, finally facing outward once again. She gave one final tug and felt the stall's grip weakening...

"Yes, yes yes!" she cried as her titanic booty finally emerged from the stall, her freedom regained at last. She clambered toward the mirror and placed her hands firmly on the sink once again, panting heavily with an enormous toothy grin adorning her face.

"I... I did it! I did i-" Rosaline's words failed her as she took in the stall she had extracted herself from in the mirror, which now sported an obscene crack in the doorframe and was missing a sizeable chunk where the crack now stood. She placed a single hand over her mouth in shock and the other on her cakes, as if to dissuade them from causing more undue destruction.

"I'm so sorry," she said to no one in particular. There was nothing to be done about it now, and she had a date waiting for her. Quickly, she adjusted her hair, removing the frazzles and tangles in the tapestry of blonde and erasing any signs of struggle. She wiped the tear marks away from her face and double-checked her lipstick before deciding to wash it off entirely. Natural was a perfectly fine look.

Satisfied, she took a step back and evaluated her silhouette. Her preparations had been adjusted, her outfit was cute, and she was beginning to quite like her freckles, but still...

Rosaline raised an eyebrow. Curiously, she did a complete 180 and looked over her shoulder. Her immense butt was still there, wobbling with an unruly flair in response to her sudden motion. Her most prominent curve by far, it dwarfed every other feature on her body. The crease between her cheeks was positively eating her strained leggings, and the outline of each was clearly visible. There was nothing to be done about that -- larger sizes of leggings were incredibly scarce and clung to her donk just as much.

Cautiously, Rosaline rose up on her tiptoes and dropped her full weight back down, sending her cheeks into an eruption of jiggling patterns. They danced under the florescent lights, and their movement made her leggings begin to ride down her back ever so slightly.

She snorted.

Bailey, Becca, and Britney? Jealous of this? The very thought was absurd.

With that, Rosaline LeBlanc directed her attention away from the mirror and made her way to the lobby, eager to meet up with Max. She found him standing near a pillar in the lobby, looking down dejectedly at the ugly red movie theatre carpet adorned with geometric shapes as if having been scattered there the night before. His glasses were crooked on his round face, and his short black hair was brushed to the side in an awkward, gelled-down look.