CLEANER II: Chapter Four - Part Seven

MELISSA 

It hadn’t crossed my mind that Dahlia would arrive before my gentleman friend left but it was actually kind of perfect because that meant that she got to see my little conquest; evidence if any more was needed that I had changed beyond recognition.

And what a conquest! I had never felt such heights of pleasure. I’d never even considered that I could find myself in such a situation. And I wanted more now; much more. I wanted everything and I was going to snatch it if ever I could.

When her knock came I hurried my lover to leave. My lover! I had no idea what his name was! Then as he went for the door I leant against the edge of the lavish sofa, wanting to show off my new physique. With my recent lipo and all the swimming I really felt as though she was going to be surprised.

I hadn’t considered how surprised I would be.

When Dahlia came into the suite, still looking back at my departing paramour, I was stunned to see her. She turned to face me and in that frozen moment we sized one another up, each of us open mouthed and flabbergasted.

In the two weeks since I had seen her she had swelled up like a ripening tomato. It was staggering how much she’d changed. It was as though her muscles had initially been able to hold in the extra weight she was gaining, but a limit had been reached and suddenly, unable to hold it in anymore, all the fat had plopped out on display.

Her torso was thick and plump with rolls of fat visible where her bra and knickers pinched. She was wearing a brown sleeveless button-up blouse and a skirt and her inflating arms were on display, as were her chunkier legs. Her thighs and ass were much wider than they had been. It was her face, though, which was most amazing.

It had distended enough now to really distort her features. With the bobbed hair making a crash helmet shape around her face and the circle of fat lowering her chin and merging it with her neck, her face had an entirely different shape. Add the glasses – and I could see she’d gone to an even thicker prescription now – and she was another person. At a glance she looked like the old me.

No, she wasn’t as fat as that… yet… but the acceleration toward obesity had been so rapid already, I saw no reason why she wouldn’t achieve the same girth or pass it within an even shorter time frame than we’d anticipated.

And as I examined her, so she examined me.

She had to see the contrast between us now. When we’d last met we had been close to the same size, which had been remarkable in itself, but she was past that now. I was the slimmer one. I still wasn’t close to where I wanted to be but I was the one able to hook a man now. There was no was the bloke who left would have been interested in this mousy, scared-looking fatty.

“Come in Melissa,” I said, underscoring her new identity. I said it with a slight edge today that she must have picked up on, that said, You’re really becoming me now. You’re more Melissa than I am. “You look… well,” I said. “They aren’t starving you at least.”

I smiled and Dahlia blushed furiously.

“Come over to the table,” I said, moving the conversation on without a pause for niceties. It was a pattern I had followed since we started this and it reinforced our different statuses. This wasn’t a social call. I didn’t want to hear about her trivialities and my own luxurious life was none of her business. As usual, she acted wary and guarded around me which gave me some satisfaction. Every time I saw her it made me feel more confident about my own repurposed identity and standing.

I said nothing while I took my seat and waited for Dahlia to take hers. I arranged the voice recorder as I normally did; all business; and pressed record. Dahlia waited submissively.

“Today I’m going to tell you about my husband Robert,” I said.

A slight frown creased Dahlia’s forehead.

“I haven’t gone into much detail about him before,” I said, “because I wanted to ensure he got the attention he deserved.”

… and because I hadn’t been able to think of a way to describe him that wouldn’t terrify her and make any fantasies I might have about a permanent swap impossible to achieve.

But I’d been thinking over this past two weeks, about a lot of things, and the best approach to this situation had presented itself late one night while I was sitting out on my balcony.

Dahlia had once told me how much she wished she had a loving husband; an established long-term partnership that felt comfortable and well-established. I couldn’t pretend I fully understood her reasons for pursuing this ridiculous swap, but the more I could layer in the positive elements of her fantasy, the more likely she might be to make some rash and irrevocable decision.

“The most important thing to know about Robert,” I said, “is that he is kind and thoughtful and he loves me… Melissa… very much.”

Dahlia’s mouth turned up at the edges and her gaze took on a wistful caste. I smiled on the inside like a predator bird.

“He makes me feel protected and looked after. And he makes it his goal every day to keep us both close together and happy.”

Dahlia’s smile grew and so did mine. I went on reeling out the lies and she went on drinking them down.