Sarah and her husband were on their way back from a fairly pleasant date. A talkative night over dinner and a decent movie, and they were having more fun tearing it apart on the ride home than they were actually watching it. While her husband drove, Sarah's cel phone went off. A brief conversation and she hung up, nodding to her husband.
"My brother just called," she sighed. "Andrew's at a party and he's supposed to be home by now. They wanted to know if I could pick him up since we're closer to the place than they are."
"And did you?" he asked.
"Of course! It's my brother! And I can't have him shoving that in mom's face next time at Thanksgiving!" she defended. She still hated the teenager and his pranks hadn't let up, though nothing as severe as the birthday party incident.
"What kind of party?" her husband asked as he turned the car to follow her directions.
"Well, considering they said they think he's drunk, it sounds like one he's not supposed to be at in the first place," she huffed. "Bunch of noisy teenagers that shouldn't be drinking either way..."
"Ah, I had my fun at that age," her husband smiled wistfully. "It's all harmless. Not that we're not getting him home," he added defensively. "Just don't be too hard on the little bastard."
Sarah smiled and shook her head. He knew the kind of trouble he put her through, and while it was all plenty funny to him, he sympathized and apologized after he'd laugh at her stories. At least he knew the boy had most of the blame, unlike most people who she told or even WITNESSED her suffering.
They reached the house where the music blasted and the lights were on all over the house. It wasn't deafening or shaking the walls, but there were certainly a bunch of rowdy kids of various ages. They all toted cups that were decidedly not see-through, preventing any authority figures from seeing what the kids at the front deck and throughout the house were drinking. The kegs and empty bottles inside were a pretty good clue, though, if the smell weren't enough for both of the adults to know better.
Sarah and her husband waded through the mess, asking a few kids before finding Andrew in the kitchen drinking with some friends.
"There you are!" Sarah barked at him. "Your mother's been worried sick! She said you refused to come home at all! Come on, we're going!"
His friends groaned or booed, but Andrew waved at them to calm down, even if his sloppy smile and clumsy hand-waving made it clear he was intoxicated. "Hey, hey, calm down. She's my cool aunt. Ain't that right, Auntie Sarah? Can't I stay for just a LITTLe longer? Then I'll go home. Promise!"
"What? No!" Sarah insisted. "This place is a mess and I won't just sit here and wait for you. Come on. In the car now!" She took Andrew's arm, trying to force him after her, but her husband set a hand on her arm.
"Alright, look, COOL Auntie Sarah," he offered. "How about we let Andy have one, ONE more drink..." He pressed the word, looking at both of the relatives as an enforcing mediator, making sure they both stuck to the idea. "Then he goes quietly with us. Agreed?"
Andrew's eyes lit up a bit excitedly as he smiled wide. A few kids started up a chant of "One more drink! One more drink!"
"Alright, fine!" Sarah blurted angrily. She pointed an accusing finger over at her husband. "But both of you boys had best behave."
"Perfectly," Andrew smiled, elbowing one of his friends and nodding at Sarah. They shared a few meaningful glances at eachother before one stepped forward.
"Hi, Dave Robinson," one friend introduced himself, offering Sarah a hand while Andrew started to fill up a fresh drink. "Were you the one at the birthday party? With the Mexican wrestler girl?"
Sarah groaned and rolled her eyes. "Yes, that was me," she grumbled. She was surprised as the boys and girls burst into excited smile and cheers, even more than the occasional burst of laughter. She recognized most of them from the part itself, but some looked completely new, suggesting word had quickly spread since the incident.
"Oh wow, that's amazing! Everyone still talks about that! You're a legend!" Dave blurted out excitedly.
"I was there!" piped up a blond girl. "That was incredible! I couldn't believe how good you made that look!"
Sarah realized that for all she knew, no one was made aware that it wasn't a show. They really must have thought she was some kind of stunt woman or underground wrestler. It was still embarrassing to hear the crowd eagerly praise and ask about her public beating and talent for taking a punch, but she decided it was better than the alternative and went with it.
"Do you mind a picture?" David asked first, starting a parade of copycats wanting the same. Sarah looked to her husband for approval, who smiled and lightly pushed at her back. She smiled and stepped forward, letting one of Dave's friends snap a picture off on his phone. The one taking the pic stepped in to hold out his phone and snap a "selfie" of them. The awkward angle meant he had to grab her around the waist and pull her close to him, and she wasn't perfectly comfortable with the close proximity and how her big breasts squashed into his chest, but she smiled anyway and got it over with.
But as they went on, the boys got no less handsy with her. She didn't know what to say about it, never being much of a celebrity before, but they kept hugging, grabbing, and squeezing her for their shots. Some of the shots were also taken a bit too high an angle for her liking, her simple dress unable to hide much of her enormous cleavage at that level.
And the boys and girls just got more touchy-feely from there. A dozen or so photos into it, she gasps and jumps as someone pinches her round ass. Her boobs hadn't stopped jiggling by the time she looked at the boy she was taking the picture with, but he was already thanking her and had his hands full as he was checking out the picture on his phone. She looked behind her where Andrew was nursing his drink, drawing it out and a number of his friends laughing with him. And more people walked back and forth through the kitchen to get their own drinks. It was impossible for her to tell who it was, so she let it go for now.
Except that it didn't stop with just one. She gave another high squeak when another unseen hand palmed her round ass, but she bit it back as she smiled for the camera. She spun around when it was through, but any apparent culprit of the goosing was gone. She'd hardly turned back when another boy walked by, giving her round ass a hard spank. She grabbed at her dress to keep its wild wobbling under control, only turning in time to see some other boy rush around the corner snickering. She took another pair of pictures, but let out a sharp "YOWWW!" at the next little surprise to her backside. She turned too clumsily and slow, ruining the first picture with her reaction caught on camera. She turned and found that stuck in her buttocks was a cocktail stick, forced to awkwardly pluck it out before trying the picture again.
She wasn't much of a fighter or even one to raise her voice (unless screaming in pain, apparently), and kept her mouth shut and kept smiling. One of the sloppy drunk girls even spilled a strong-smelling fruity drink down her cleavage, and no amount of napkins really got the stain or the smell out of her bosom. She assured them it was alright, just like she told the partying boy that bumped into her when he dropped a sticky chip covered in between her boobs. The second and third time it happened wasn't as funny, and she had to wind up pushing the hands away when they tried to go in after the chip.
"OHH!" She yelped loudly at one especially sharp booty pinch, taking a big helping of her round ass and twisting whatever it reached. She would have to check later in the shower if she had bruises back there! She'd had enough. She stormed back to the living room to find her husband, ready to make him force the young nephew to leave. He didn't look so keen to help, downing the last of his second bottle and talking up a small group of teenagers, all younger and skinnier than she was.
"That’s it!" she barked, stomping a foot in front of him and making her sloppy breasts bounce around. "We are leaving!"
"Oh, come now! Andrew's having fun, isn't he?" her husband smiled, a bit sloppily himself. One of the girls passed him a pair of bottles, and he impressed them by popping them open together with one hand. It was an old trick he'd once used to pick up Sarah so long ago. "Still got it!" he boasted before tapping the bottle heads together and passing one back to her, taking a pull from the other.
"Andrew can go to hell," she huffed, not daring to say to say so too loudly. "We're dragging him home if we have to. Him and his... disgusting friends can't keep their hands to themselves!"
"Sweetie, you're over-reacting," he assured her as he swallowed his mouthful of beer. "You're like a celebrity to them! Boys will be boys, after all, and they're just having fun with you."
"Well I'm not," she huffed, brushing some more chip crumbs from her chest.
Her husband chuckled and shook his head. "Well I can't have that. We'll leave really soon, I promise. In fact..." He reached into his pants pocket and produced the car keys, tossing them to her. "You're in charge now. Plus, I've had too many to drive now," he noted with another little snicker, the girls giggling along with him. She caught them in her hand, squeezing the keys angrily in her fist not so much at him but this whole situation. She wanted it over with, and dammit she was going to go end it now.
Sarah marched back into the kitchen, where she managed to find Andrew again still working on his drink (or perhaps he'd refilled it while she wasn't looking). "There you are!" she huffed, pointing at him sternly.
"Of course. I haven't moved since you found me," Andrew smiled proudly.
"We are going. Now!" she ordered.
"But my drink..."
"I don't care!" she huffed, red-faced and flustered without a single drink in her (though one or two were ON her, given the stains). She held up the keys to him like a badge of authority. "I'm driving, so if you want a ride, it's with me. Because I'm sure none of these kids ha-HEY!"
Andrew lashed out quickly, taking the keys from her raised hand before she knew what happened. She blinked at her empty hand stupidly for a moment while Andrew laughed proudly. "Wha... why you little brat! Give me those!"
"Better a little brat than a fat pig!" Andrew teased jovially, Sarah grabbing clumsily at the keys but he held them out of her reach. She groped for them blindly, but Andrew held her off long enough to throw them to one of his friends. They caught it and Sarah was left turning to try and catch them instead, only for them to keep the game of keepaway going.
"Haha! Piggy in the middle!" jeered Andrew as she scrambled after one of the other boys in a furious panic.
"This must be why you don't usually see whales on land," his friend mocked before throwing them over her head. She skidded to a stop and jumped to try and catch them, missing completely and only succeeding in making herself jiggle further. The boys actively started to throw them over her head, just to see her chubby form jump and miss them over and over, tits wobbling out of control in her dress.
"Not funny, Andrew!" Sarah fumed as she grabbed at them again.
"Looks pretty funny to me!" he laughed.
"Here, I can make it funnier," her friend Kevin offered, grabbing a toothpick from the table and as Sarah scrambled by for the keys again, he prodded her in the butt again. She yelped and spun around, losing track of the keys as she glared back at the boy. She turned back to Andrew, who had already passed off the keys but hid his hands behind his back. She shove and grabbed behind him, the snickering boy still hiding them only for her to look behind him, letting his other hand prod her in the ass with a cocktail stick.
She jumped and spun around again, the kids going back to tossing them again. Peter pretended to throw them to her, only for her to jump and catch the messy handful of salsa in her cleavage instead when he passed them off again.
"You give them to me!" she whined as if giving an overgrown tantrum, slapping at one boy's hand. He managed to quickly pass off the keys, but the wild slap knocking his beer from his hands instead. The group still laughed at it, and as Sarah turned to try and grab them in her pathetically fruitless chase, she slid on the puddle of beer she'd just spilled. She slipped and fell suddenly, thumping her head on the edge of the table, briefly going crosseyed before she collapsed on the floor.
There was a brief pause from the boys as the laughter calmed down, only for Andrew to squat down beside her and slap at her face. She groaned wearily and he flashed the other boys a thumbs up. "She's alive. Don't worry. Here, help me drag her upstairs. I can't carry this much weight on my own."
The boys pitched in, a foursome of them taking hold of whatever they could on the sloppy, unconscious curvy woman. They were all tipsy or outright drunk, and none of them organized about it, moving her up the stairs with all the efficiency of a few college kids moving a couch more than a person. It was all the more pronounced whenever they turned too sharply to try and fit up together, clunking her head noisily against the wall.
"No, left stupid," Andrew advised, the boys turning her the other way. Her head knocked against the banister with another loud thud. "Good enough," Andrew shrugged, starting to help heave her up again, ignoring the following bumps as her head hit the next few rails on the way up the steps.
"So what's the plan?" one of the other boys asked, Andrew nodding his head towards the bathroom with a grin. "Let's give her some water. That'll wake her up."
The other boys smiled back, and dragged her into the bathroom as Andrew instructed, propping her up in front of the toilet. Her head flopped limply against the seat, groaning and drooling witlessly.
"You sure she was the designated driver?" one of the boys asked, smiling down at the busty ragdoll.
"Not especially," Andrew shrugged. "Let's give her the wakeup call." He lifted Sarah by the hair, another boy lifting the seat and stuffing her face into the water and flushing it.
With some sputtering and choking, Sarah woke up suddenly and violently, trying to sit up while the boys held her head down, making her endure the full spiraling humiliation of the flush. They pulled back up with her coughing violently, spitting up some of the (thankfully clean) water into the toilet and onto her bulging wet breasts, her wet hair sticking to the sides of her face and hanging loosely.
"There's my fat weak auntie!" Andrew chimed, the boys laughing at her expense as she looked around dizzily, still dazed from being knocked out and then given a swirly from a bunch of drunk teenagers. "Did you have a good nap?"
"I'm sure she's used to being knocked out by now," laughed Peter, the friend who was throwing the party in the first place while his parents were away. "Just like at the last party she was at, right?"
"oh yea!" another boy agreed, smacking her ass derisively. Sarah could only groan and jiggle in reply to the abuse. "Fat Barbie, she called you. Was that your ring name or something, you weak old hog?"
"You act like she could even wrestle at all!" Andrew cut in. "She's just a big fat punching bag, aren't you?"
Sarah shook her head weakly, but she was too dazed to form a real reply. They dunked her face in again, her thrashing and trying to scream blowing up bubbles from the water as the boys laughed at her expense.
"See? She's always the best when she's getting her ass kicked," Andrew pointed out when they finally let her back up for air. "But she's so good at it!"
"Yea, the best loser in the business," another laughed as Sarah spat up more water while she was held up by her hair alone, not having the strength or balance to get to her feet under her own power.
"We should go save up and get that Monica girl out here again. Let her jump Miss Piggy here and have her way with her again."
"Nooo..." Sarah groaned out miserably, Andrew pulled back on her hair and tossing her so that her back landed against the wall. She sat there like a rag roll, weakly rubbing her aching head and the bumps that were growing on its surface.
"Well you don't get a vote," Andrew insisted at her. "You're the natural loser here. You're so good at it, you'd even lose the vote anyway." The boys laughed while Steve, one of the taller among the boys, rifled through the closet and grabbed a bottle from inside.
"How about we do her a little favor, guys?" he offered, but his clever smile still matched the rest of the group. "Let's give our queen hippo a makeover so she can hide from Monica when we send her out to get her. Make it a little fair at least."
Andrew saw the bottle, and its label for blue hair dye, smiling as he read. It must have been a leftover from a costume party that Pete's parents never felt like throwing out. "Yea, let's play dress up, Fat Barbie!" he gloated, the boys going to grab whatever they could. As a bunch of drunk teenage boys, they didn't know much about women’s hair products, but that seemed to work just as well for their goals.
Steve turned the bottle of die upside down over Sarah's head, splashing around and leaving random streaks of it in her wet hair. Steve dug his fingers into her scalp, scrubbing and pulling it into knots. She squealed and squirmed in his grasp, the dye mixing in unevenly into a sloppy mix of runny blue and dirty blond.
"Uhhnn, stop! Get off! Not my hair!" Sarah ranted, grabbing the edge of the bathtub and trying to push herself back up, unsteady and slow between her beating and her bulky, bosomy body. When she looked up, one of the boys had found a can of hairspray, blasting it into her eyes like a can of mace. It wasn't nearly so painful and debilitating, but Sarah couldn't tell the difference as she shrieked and immediately fell back over, bouncing briefly off the edge of the tub and landing back on the ground, clutching her face and wailing.
"I'm blind! I can't see!" she wailed, panicking at the chemical sting, though even the boys knew she was exaggerating.
"Well have a hair of the dog that bit you. That should help!" Andrew advised helpfully, motioning for the same boy to spray down her hair, the teens pulling, twisting and playing with her hair until it stuck out in wild directions and stayed that way.
The wet and sticky Sarah managed to wriggle free from their grasps, stumbling blindly for where she hoped the door was in her disoriented state. She instead scrambled tits-first into the wall, thumping off of it. She was already stunned when one of the boys grabbed her by the dress and punched her in the belly, Sarah releasing her breath in a satisfying WHUMP noise as his fist met her soft wall of fat.
"Stay in your seat, chunky," he ordered, holding onto her hair and the front of her dress (just above where her heaving breaths pumped her hefty breasts up and down). Peter grabbed the hem of her dress, yanking it up until it was over her head like a crude, blinding hood. He and one of his friends started slapping her wide bottom, the pantied butt jiggling with every smack so that it barely seemed to sit still.
She spun around trying to avoid the slapping, punching and pinching, but another boy was there as she was surrounded by her gleefully drunk tormentors. "Over here!" Andrew called with a wave to the boys, herding the blinded and helpless Sarah over to him and pushing her onto the toilet seat, sitting with her chubby legs splayed out shamelessly in front of teenagers. Two of the boys pulled off the dress entirely, then got to work on her fittingly giant bra.
Pete left the room quickly while Andrew took a marker from another comrade. He ordered the boys to hold down her arms while he popped the marker open, her weak struggling only making her bare breasts and stomach jiggle. Andy braced one hand on her big belly, holding the jiggling fat steady so that he could write "Fat Barbie" across the flesh with his sharpie.
Pete finally returned with a pair of handcuffs, the boys laughing at the fact that he owned them (even if they were fuzzy and pink). They forced the topless Sarah back upright and her hands behind her back, Peter clasping the cuffs on to leave her utterly helpless, on top of being a ridiculous-looking mess. She seemed to have just enough sight and balance recovered for them to force-march her back downstairs, the party quickly bursting into laughter at the ridiculous sight.
Andrew waved for quiet, and directed more guests quietly. They split off, the boys and girls giggling as they set up the snack table, as well as a few more for good measure.
At last, they spun Sarah around in several quick circles, leaving her dizzied and even more off balance. "Okay, Sarah! Time for a party game! It's called 'hunt for the car keys,' and I think you'll like it. Well... WE'LL like it. But at least you'll like the prize."
The kids laughed as Andy waved at the table in front of her. There were several big bowls there of variously appetizing things. Punch and dip, of course, but more had been added; mustard and ketchup, whipped cream, dog food. Some of the girls had even arranged some powdered laundry soap from the garage.
"We hid the car keys in one of the bowls. You have to get them out without your hands. If you do, we take off the handcuffs and I'll go home. Deal?"
Sarah looked wearily at the bowls, tired and dizzy and confused and aching all over. She just wanted the night over with. "Fine," she muttered, the party cheering for her, her husband included as he clapped from his seat on the couch.
"Annnnd go!" Andrew declared.
Sarah went for the easy way out, hurrying to the punch bowl and slapping her face into it. The teens burst into laughs and cheers as she gulped and sloshed around, her face looking like a fat discolored fish through the glass of the punch. Of course, with her lack of foresight, the fact that the bowl was see-through was a dead giveaway that the keys were not inside.
After some pawing around with her lips and teeth, she finally came back up. Her hair was now mixed with blue and the red of the punch, much of her spiked up hair drooping and sloppy. "Go! Go! Go! Go!" the party chanted, urging on Sarah's urge to rush through this.
"AWWWW!" The crowd gave a mix of delighted and disgusted reactions as Sarah thrust her face into the mess of wet dog food, shoving around in the slop. She hesitated to do so, but after a moment she opened up her mouth, gagging as she pushed through the sloppy meat and juices.
"Put a leash on that bitch!" somebody called over the laughter.
"Dig in there, Sarah! I bet it's in there!"
"Go, Fat Barbie! Go!"
"So that's where she puts on all the weight!"
Sarah came up at last gasping for air, face coated in the dull brown sauce. She gave a quick shake of her head, unable to wipe her eyes and whipping some of the gravy off of her face. Her face was an expression of pure disgust, but the chubby wife pushed on as the punch and grease stained her jiggling tits as she dashed to the next one.
She added to her disgusting mask as she splatted her face into ketchup and mustard bowl, and splashed her face into the thick and sticky dip, all with the same results. Nothing but a mess to be found in there.
"You almost got em, sweetie!" her husband called, idly playing with the car keys in his pocket. Andrew had passed them off to him while she was being spun around, but he wasn't one to ruin her fun. At least her husband wasn't going to be called a party pooper.
Sarah slapped her face into the pile of whipped cream next, splashing the stuff everywhere nearby as kids backed off to try and avoid the extra mess. She came up coated in it like a layer of shaving cream was smeared over her.
"Aww man! She looks like a clown after a bukakke!" one boy laughed over the crowd. Sarah spat out a lump of the fluff before dreading the last pile. At least maybe it would help clean her up a bit. She stuck her face into the bowl containing the pile of soap flakes, immediately backing out and coughing loudly. It smelled strongly, especially mixed with the rest of her sloppy face and breasts, and the chemicals stung her already reddened eyes.
"Come on! Get the keys!" the kids encouraged, Sarah biting down the discomfort and general aches before buying their lies. The round gullible blond stuck her face into the mess again, shaking her head around and shoving the soap all over herself and the floor.
"Wow, I loved this episode of Double Dare," snickered one boy watching her while the crowd cheered and laughed. Sarah lifted her head at last, panting and spitting out bits of soap, some of which started to foam up in her mouth when mixed with her spit.
"It's not in here!" she whined dizzily.
"Guess you better try them all again!" Andrew laughed, the crowd cheering for more... except for one.
Peter's mother stood in the door, keys to the house still in hand as she tapped her foot, staring daggers at the party's host. He smiled and waved at her innocently, trying to hide his nervousness. Her eyes couldn't help but wander over to Sarah, her face smeared in white powder and God knows what else so as a mother, she naturally feared the worst.
The kids quieted down and Sarah finally looked at her in her punchdrunk state. "It's just a party game..." she slurred clumsily, exhausted and sore from the night's events.
Peter's mom bit her lip and stormed up to her, the well-dressed woman's high heels clacking over the floor. "You fat, stupid, irresponsible-" she snarled before one solid punch cracked into Sarah's jaw, making her spin in a complete circle before she fell to the floor with a dull splat from all the substances on her half-naked body. She was out cold. "Everyone! Out!" the mother barked. "And take your pig with you!"
The kids were quick to scatter before she got angry enough to call the police, and Andrew and Sarah's husband propped the dumbstruck and unwilling party guest. She was still topless, messy and barely able to move on her own, so each held up an arm.
"This would be easier if we got those cuffs off," her husband grunted as he hefted his wife along in nothing but her panties and a scattered layer of filth and food.
"They were Pete's," Andrew admitted with a shrug. "He had the keys."
"Fair enough," her husband shrugged. "She likes to have fun, really. Sarah just doesn't do well with parties. Hold her while I get the door." He shrugged off Sarah to her nephew while he pushed a few things over in the back seat. Andrew moved her in awkwardly, feigning a trip so that her head thumped against the hard rubber of the car door's edge. Sarah's head lolled with it like a punching bag, gurgling dizzily in his grip.
"Well at least she's still awake in there somewhere," her husband smiled, patting her on her shoulder and buckling her in. "We'll clean her up when she's home and she'll be good as new. Just don't tell anyone I drove her home, you hear?"
"Totally," Andrew grinned back, the two boys smiling as they started up the car. Sarah was barely coming to, an aching and sticky mess as Andrew shook his head.
"Sorry if she got a little out of control there," Andrew apologized for HER. "She was a lot of fun, but she's so goofy sometimes."
"Yea, well if your friend needs someone to help clean up, we can send her over. After the spectacle she made of herself, least she could do, I think."
"Yea, running around naked, eating all that food, using up all that hairspray and die... made a real hog of herself."
"Well she'll sleep it off, and I'm sure she'll apologize in the morning."
Would love to see another story where Peter's snooty mom gets some comeuppance along with Sarah.
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