Samantha part 12

A blush tented your expansive fleshy cheeks as this cadet gently took your hand and helped you out of your mobility scooter. As would be expected of a military cadet he looked nondescript from his crew cut but there was a certain quality to his eyes that allowed you to accept his hand.

But more importantly you blushed from the sudden loss of weight you felt. Under the simulated artificial gravity of the party hall you were able to stand on your feet for the first time in a long time. You couldn't remember the last time you were able to accomplish such a feat. For as long as you could remember you had servants that would help get your jigglesome fat body out of bed. You literally never lifted a muscle for most of your life and so you relied on others to become your muscles while you turned your body to fat.

"You should weigh about as much as you would on the moon," The cadet told you.

"Is that right?" You felt amazed at the feeling of your shifting rolls, your 1500+ lb blob body moved in ways you never knew was possible with the strain of gravity lessened. "Is that where you're going? The moon?"

"First year I'll be stationed at Camp Aldrin, this is supposed to celebrate that. Very few get to go to Outer Space. My name is Jack Casey."

You were amazed at this Space Force prospect as he confidently led you in a waltz on the ballroom floor. "It's true, very few people get to go to Outer Space. I'm a senator's daughter, right? One percent of the one percent and I don't think even he could afford to send me to Outer Space. My name is Samantha Lang, but you can call me Sam."

As you turned your dancing whalish body around you could see your friends in the international club dancing with their own strapping cadets as well as Lizzie, but seeing no one dance with Sheena made you sad. Although, from the looks of things Sheena was not handling the low gravity well at all. You could tell she was clinging and clutching to your mobility scooter for dear life, her opposite lithe and thin figure made her fear she might fly off to the sky if she fell and bounced.

"Most people living in Outer Space are either technicians or laborers, including those workers at those Lunar resorts that are super popular with you rich folks, they're like Monroe on steroids."

"Well, aren't you a comedian. Daddys a senator, I'm sure it'd be possible."

He only smiled and said kindly, "'Well I hope you make it to Outer Space one day too."

It wasn't before long that you absolutely needed to sit down. Even under the artificial gravity replicating the moon your muscles were still mushy and unused and your supposed endless waltz was merely a trifle three spins.

"Whew, just…oh…" You were a gasping mess as Jack helped you back into your scooter. Your hair, your blonde hair which was made so nice, was now becoming slick with sweat and your pretty dress was getting slick with your own sticky bodily fluids.

"Are you alright?" Jack asked you with the tone of concern you've grown used to hearing your entire life, afraid that you might hurt yourself or others with your substantial weight.

"That was fun, I don't think I've walked since I was little."

Jack left and came back with a cup full of dark cola, perfect for what your body needed after having to endure moving itself under its own power. While you drank you could see the other girls, including your friends, reaching similar physical conclusions to long pondered questions. Your friends retreated back to their scooters and you all went to your table to eat and enjoy the rest of the party.

At that moment you see Sabrina rolling up to the podium.

"What a great party we're having! We are proud to announce our king and queen of the night. From the Armstrong Academy we have Cadet Paul Gage"

The spotlight shined down on a surprised cadet who had a great big smile on his face

"And for our Queen we have, from our Marilyn Monroe Academy For Corpulent Ladies…Anya Svin’ya."

The cadet's smile faded as the Soviet blob that was Anya rolled to the Podium to shake Sabrina's hand. You scowl at them, those two had caused you and the club way too many problems and you could see through this obvious political play.

Approaching the podium while clad in a crimson gown she tapped on the mic and began to speak in a Russian accent that was as heavy as the labored breathing that served as background noise to her speech.

"As a guest student from the Soviet Union it is my honor to be awarded your…." she gave a snicker that showed sarcastic contempt and wobbled her collection of chin fat, "..title of nobility. However, it cannot be ignored the backwardness of monarchy, monarchism itself being a tool to justify capitalism and imperialism which is the cause of all suffering in the world. It is my hope that one day the West may become advanced and forward thinking like we of the Soviet Union and join us to bring about the World Revolution. Bol'shoye spasibo."

You could hear a pin drop as an entire US military party had been lectured by the enemy in this never ending Cold War. As she leaves the podium even Sabrina looked pissed as she tried to salvage the party, after which she retreated to her friends in the student council Alison and Lily absolutely fuming.

"Easy does it" Lily tried to calm the 1,000+ pound corrupt student council president, with Alison adding "Think about your blood pressure."

"Fuck my blood pressure," Sabrina hissed, her bloated fat face turning red "She invites me to Russia,"

"You went to Ukraine," Lily corrected her which made Sabrina slam her ruddy red palm on her scooter and barked "I KNOW THAT! She threatened me! That bitch threatened me with her commie goons to make her queen, and then shits all over it!"

She looked at the bovine communist scooting towards your way and sneered.

"I think I hate her more than that Lang girl."

As Sabrina raged Annya rolled by your table you spoke up "Do you actually believe all that?"

Pausing her scooter, Annya turned her face to you. With her platinum blonde pixie cut you could see the bulge of neck fat behind her wobble as she turned to face you. Staring at you with beady blue eyes she said, with conviction saturating every word, "I absolutely believe in Proletarian internationalism. Capitalism is a world system, thus the working class of all nations must work together to replace it with Communism, a world revolution."

"We know what communism is," Your friend Sheena spoke up, "The issue is that you're a big fat hypocrite. First of all, you're one of the few 1,000 pounders here, Sam and Sabrina aside. That alone, when you consider how antiobesity the Soviets are, is hugely hypocritical. Not to mention the fact you're even in this school. And look, you still haven't taken off that tiara you dislike so much. Also, you claim to be for peace, but the very concept of world revolution is confrontational and leads only to war!"

Anya shrugged, "We are in a cold war that has been going on since 1945, the only way for peace to be achieved is through the transformation of the world into a communist society."

"Through war! Nuclear War!"

Anya had to chuckle at the stick figure that was Sheena.

"I like you, you remind me of the girls from home, skin and bones. You are also smart. Have you ever heard of the Shey Scenario?"

"That's the scenario MIT created in 1992 after the 91 coup. It was a program to predict how things would go if things went on their current path."

"And what was its conclusion?"

Sheena looked away, "Nuclear War by 2030."

Anya nodded, "Indeed. Almost halfway there. You might say Shey leads to the end of the world. In five years or so everyone in this building will die. Have a pleasant rest of your party."

After Anya rolled off to the food you tried to forget the whole thing. Tried to eat to forget your troubles.

However, you couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop thinking about what Anya had said. 2030, why that wasn't far away at all. You lived such a privileged life, you never worried about such things. Yet here you were, unable to stop worrying about your awful aggravating apocalypse problem.

You even retreated to the cafeteria in the days after the party, stuffing your face with greasy fatty treats and eating your stress.

But it wasn't helping.

While you took huge bites and filled your gut with grease like it really was the end of the world the feeling of dread would not go away. But there was little you could do, intensive overeating was how you dealt with stress,

Packing on as much blubber as you could for the coldest of wars.