Swine Security 7

The sun began to fade on the mall as Sandy made her way through the parking lot and into the mall. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to jump in her oversized tub, but she had been called in to work on her day off, something that annoyed her to no end.

“Len, wheeze, is, oink, lucky, snort, that he said it’s double time for this shift, wheeze. And, that, pant, I don’t, snort, have to work tomorrow. All, pant, because, gasp, Portia, oink, dropped a TV, oink oink, on her foot!”

Sandy was truly struggling as she got to the door. Her face was no longer pink but almost completely red, her hair was a mess her clothes were literally stuck to her rotund body. Sandy’s three chins jostled as she gasped to catch her breathe, a slight pool of sweat collected in her third chin. Her breasts made the “Ice Cream Lover” Logo on her t-shirt almost unreadable, and her belly forced the lower half to rise up, exposing all of her pink, cellulite and stretch marked flesh. It slapped loudly against her thighs.

Her thighs pressed together, causing her to waddle, though these days it was more like her just shuffling her feet to get to places. Her thighs barely separated from one another, though at this point it was hard to know if they even could. They were so riddled with fat that it was hard to know where one leg stopped and another began.

Of course, nothing compared to the absolute shelf, no, the absolute library sized book shelf that was behind her. It rounded out from her back and thrust itself out, taking up enough space that two normal sized people could sit comfortably on it. It quivered even when she stood still; her breathing was enough to set in motion. Now, it was contained in sweats that were slick and her panties were wedged up there something fierce. Her globular cheeks wobbled and smacked against one another, threatening to knock her over if she wasn’t compensated by a good amount of lard in her belly and breasts.

None of that mattered as the Anthro-woman made her way past the widened double doors (that could accommodate Sandy, Peter, and maybe even Lenny at the same time). The pig wasn’t worried about her weight, she had gotten to work early so she could shower quick, get dressed, then grab a bite before starting her shift. It was an overnight shift, so that meant all the stores would be closed, so she wanted to get her fill before they did. Otherwise, she’d be clearing out the vending machine once more.

She made her way past Lenny, giving him a slight wave, one that created rips on her sleeve and almost completely tore the sleeve off. It had been incredibly tight going on and, though she wasn’t aware, would not be going back on once it was taken off. Sandy waddled past the office and into the woman’s room, immediately tossing her bag containing her uniform down and going about the process of getting ready for a shower. Her pants were a struggle (mainly because she had so much gut flesh to get around before finding the waistband), but once she did grip it, they were mostly easy. That was because they ripped at the seams in the rear and thighs, looking like pants after a zombie attack. She was unaware and just finished getting undressed before waddling to the shower.

The shower was quite enjoyable, and Sandy really did not want to leave it. The wand was able to get under and in between each roll and pocket of flab, making her feel the cleanest she had been in a bit. It was also somewhat sensual, and she could not hold back letting out a few soft moans, oinks and squeals as she used the wand on “lower” parts of her body. Still, she didn’t want to get off in a public setting like that, so, regrettably, she put the wand back in it’s proper place and exited.

Once back in the locker room, she dried off and dropped the towel and took out her clothes. She first put on her hat, only because it was the first thing she saw. Next, she grabbed a bra, one that Portia had given her a couple of weeks ago after she had had an accident getting undressed. Her bra at the time could not contain her massive melons and had exploded off of her body, the clasps utterly destroyed.

Thankfully, the bear had a spare bra and gave it to her. She also brought in a few more the next day, telling Sandy that “she could use em more than her”.

“Why they make bras that small I’ll never understand”, she said after thanking her bear co-worker.

Back in the moment, she finished stuffing her boobs into their holder and stopped them from sagging down to where her belly used to be. Next she grabbed her pants and unfolded them and then eased her bulk onto the sturdy bench. It was meant to hold animals weighing several tons, so it was not going to break. It just was a little awkward because while it was sturdy, Sandy did have a massive tush so bits of booty flesh hung over. She kept at the task though, leaning forward as best she could with her belly bunched up, and got both legs into their respective holes.

She then rocked a bit in place to garner momentum, all with her hands on the waistband of her pants and stood up, inching the fabric up her thighs, just about to the halfway point. They stopped dead in their tracks once past the upper roll of thigh flab above her knees, not moving. She grunted as she began to tug at them, hoping that due to being wet, they might be a little easier to maneuver. That may have been true, but it wasn’t enough to get them up much, and definitely not enough to get them over her titanic hips.

“You, better, ugh, go up! I, pant, know, other, gasp, furs can wear you, so I should be able to too!”

She kept struggling, her ass shaking violently as she did so, the fabric not budging in the least. She kept pulling and pulling, though she could still feel a breeze on her rear cheeks. It seemed pointless.

“I’m, pant, not, gonna, give up! You are, ugh, going on!”

With one last desperate tug, Sandy got the pants over her rear, barely. The belt loops were resting on her tail, but they were mostly on. The flaps in front were miles apart, but she was ok. She was going to be mostly in the back or in an empty mall, so know one would see her. At worst, she knew she could cover it up with her shirt.

Which, as she looked down, made her realize she had another struggle coming.

‘I hate, wheeze, getting dressed for work”, she thought as she bent down to get her shirt.

It was a good thing she wasn’t going to be around many people, she was a mess.