If she was going to do this, she wasn't going to show up looking like a sweaty, defeated slob. She was going to dress nice. The phrase itself was a joke. Her wardrobe, packed into a single large suitcase and the tiny dorm closet, was a monument to shapeless comfort. But she knew, buried at the very bottom of the suitcase, was a relic from another lifetime. A "just in case" dress. Just in case she was ever invited to a wedding. Just in case she ever had a reason to look like a normal human being again. She hauled the suitcase onto the bed and unzipped it. After digging through layers of soft, stretched-out cotton, her fingers brushed against a different texture. Silk. She pulled it out. It was a dark floral wrap dress, something shed bought five years and at least a hundred and fifty pounds ago. Holding it up, it looked like a doll's costume. It was beautiful. It was impossible. It was perfect. Taking it into the tiny bathroom, she stripped off her t-shirt and panties and stood before the narrow, wall-mounted mirror. The sight was overwhelming. A huge, pale landscape of flesh. Breasts like massive, drooping sacks of flour, a belly that cascaded down in thick, doughy rolls, hips that were staggeringly wide, and an ass that seemed to defy the laws of physics. She stepped into the dress. That was the easy part. The challenge began when she tried to pull it up. The delicate fabric snagged on the vast plains of her hips. She had to wiggle and shimmy, her soft flesh jiggling violently with the effort. She finally got it past the peak of her ass, the material stretched so tight it was a second skin. Now for the wrap. She took one side and pulled it across the front of her body. It barely reached the center of her colossal gut. She took the other side and pulled with all her might. The fabric strained, the pattern distorting over the immense curve of her stomach. The fabric tie, meant to cinch elegantly at her waist, was miles away from its corresponding loop. She grunted, sweat beading on her forehead. This was more of a workout than walking across campus. She sucked in her guta futile gesture that barely made a differenceand pulled again. Her fingers, pudgy and clumsy, fumbled with the tie. She managed to thread it through the loop, but when she tried to pull it tight and tie a bow, it was hopeless. The two ends of the tie were comically short, barely able to meet, let alone form a knot. She looked in the mirror. The sight was both grotesque and electrifying. The dress was a battlefield, and her body was winning the war. The V-neck, designed to be a modest plunge, was a gaping chasm, barely containing the swollen, heavy globes of her breasts, which were crushed together and pushed upwards, spilling out of the top. The fabric was stretched to the point of transparency over her belly, every soft roll and the deep crater of her navel perfectly, obscenely delineated. The slit of the wrap, meant to flash a bit of thigh, was pulled wide open, exposing the thick, dimpled column of her leg almost to her hip. The dress ended mid-thigh, but her enormous ass stretched it upwards in the back, leaving the lower half of its heavy, fleshy curve completely exposed. It was a disaster. It was indecent. And she was going to wear it. It was a statement. You think I'm fat, Chloe? Here. Fucking look at me. See all of it. She wouldn't hide. She would weaponize it. She found a pair of black leggingsher newest pair, the fabric still dark and opaqueand wrestled them on under the dress to preserve some shred of public decency. The leggings vanished beneath the swell of her gut, but they covered her legs. It would have to do. She spent twenty minutes on her hair and makeup, a strange, surreal ritual of painting a pretty mask onto a face she barely recognized. When she was done, she stared at her reflection. A huge, soft woman, crammed into a dress that was screaming for mercy, her face carefully made up, a defiant, terrified glint in her eyes. She looked insane. She looked powerful. She took a deep breath, the dress cutting painfully into her ribs, and walked out the door.