Ashley and Tabria: Bitch Buffet

For the whole story, unedited, head o'er here: https://aryion.com/g4/view/632647

“Are you we didn’t miss the turn-off?,” Tabria glumly asked, looking at the well-fed brownette in the driver’s seat from the corner of her eye.

Ashley was in no mood for the other girl’s bullshit. “No!..I don’t know! UGHH!! Would you shut up about that already! Jesus Christ…”

“Now I know why they tell you not to be on your phone when you’re driving,” the chunky Black girl replied snarkily.

The two corpulent models were due to be at a photoshoot for a swimsuit magazine two and a half hours ago in the Florida Everglades, but due to joys of human error, most of that time had been spent arguing as they got completely lost in what could be lovingly called 'use link' And when Murphy laid down his law, he truly laid it down—the AC in the car they rented slowly choked until it died altogether, and even with all four windows rolled down, the girls’ bodies drooled moisture like they were in a sauna…and not all of it was mere sweat. It was almost as if the Florida heat was cooking them, as their faces, bare thighs, and cleavage shined with droplets of ichor forced from their bodies. The girls were lucky enough to be wearing the minimum amount of clothing. Tabria’s breasts were trapped within a pink tee a size too small for her, forcing the tops of her tender teats to peek out of the vee of the shirt and White hot-pants that left little to the imagination concerning her beefy bottom. Ashely wore a pair of denim shorts that struggled to not burst out with the ass-flesh contained within them and White blouse tied off under her impressive bosom. The water drawn from their bodies was just the right amount of copious to reveal to anyone a little secret—neither of them were wearing a brassiere.

Desperate for even the slightest bit of cool air—and to get the Hell away from each other—the almost derelict gas station was a half-assed Godsend. And it was not much of one; the station wasn’t much cooler than the swampland outside, and its stock left something to be desired—almost as if it hadn’t been replenished in years. Judging from the designs on the solitary bag of Doritos, it may have been sometime in the late 1970s, which said something about the freshness of the package’s contents. The soda cooler didn’t bolster the girls’ prospects of finding something to quench their thirst, either—and the odds of what they would find within it being cold enough to be enjoyed were even less.

A single box fan did what it could to cool the air around the snoring clerk behind the counter, his right hand resting inside of his pants and a PLAYBOY magazine barely held in his left. He wasn’t altogether attractive or ugly, packed with the smattering of muscle one would expect from a 'use link' Other than that, he was just sort of plain, his shirt completely opened at the front, a faded “Joey” embroidered on the upper left side a mop of dirty brown hair fluttering in the small blasts of artificial air. It also appeared the fan in the store wasn’t doing a particularly good job of keeping him cool, as trickles of sweat dripped drown his face, into the hollow of his throat and spilled over his pale, pink nippled chest.

“Oh, my God—just…ew!,” Tabria groaned as she and Ashley approached the station’s lone employee. The heat trapped within the building enhanced every smell within it, with the aroma of sex taking center-stage, wafting from the boy’s crotch.

Approaching the counter imperiously, Ashley smashed her hand onto the dingy call bell, it’s chimes yanking the boy out of his slumber and startling him. Losing his balance on the stool, he tumbled to the floor with a crash. His humiliation was amplified when he saw who had kicked him out of Dreamland, looking up into Ashley’s disgusted hazel eyes…and down to the sweat-stained sweater puppies wrapped tight in the almost transparent shirt she wore. He hoped she wouldn’t notice his appraisal of her plump chest-fruit.

She did. “Hey! My eyes are up here, shit head,” the brownette growled.

“Sorry ‘bout that, ma’am,” Joey sheepishly replied, “I’m still a little dis-com-bob-ulated…”

“Maybe y’all wouldn’t be on the floor if y’all didn’t have your hand in yer pants,” Tabria chimed in mockingly.

“And I’m not a goddamn ma’am, asshole!,” Ashley fumed, “do you have anything in this dump that’s edible?”

There was—for the briefest of moments—a dark shine in the boy’s eyes as the model berated him. Not that the women noticed. Had they been more careful, they certainly would have noticed the dull expression of his face turn somewhat sinister…and gotten out of the store as fast as their feet could carry them.

Alas, the curse of hindsight. Woulda, coulda, really fuckin’ SHOULDA!

“There might be somethin’ in the back here,” Joey grumbled, miming picking up something with the hand that had been stroking himself, ”I could go back there an’ see…”

The thought of having to eat something that had been touched by that hand did not set well with either girl, and—from the looks of things—if this place did have a bathroom…Ashley visibly shuddered at the thought. “We’ll all help ourselves, sir,” the brownette sneered, grabbing Tabria by the hand and dragging her along.

“Hey, why do I have to come with you?!,” the Black girl griped.

“Because I’m not carrying out stuff for the both of us, you lazy bitch,” Ashley snapped back as both women strode past the clerk on their way to the storage room. Once the girls were out of sight, a sadistic smile filled Joey’s face. Quietly, he snuck from around the counter to the window, flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED, and locked the door. Before he joined the girls in the storage room, he reached for a well-worn Louisville Slugger and went in, locking that door behind him as well.

If anyone had been outside, they would have heard yelling…followed by a dull CLUNK. The screaming that came after that would end the same way.

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Like where the story's going? To read more about the horrid fate that awaits Tabria and Ashley, head here: https://aryion.com/g4/view/632647