By Stirling Edgewood
Copyright 2020
Bear the Ember, Chapter 10: Vanishing Tact
“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’? Her bulbous, sweaty face was leaning over his cubicle’s partition, which was groaning in protest at her threatening bulk. “A star cannot simply disappear! You are a disgrace to your profession! And what is worse, you are disgracing the prestigious name of this research institute!”
The partition groaned again as she pushed in closer to him, her face clenched into a ball of fury. “Find that star and get me my data or you will never-“
Crack!
The tortured partition surrendered. She tumbled across the divider, her corpulent mass lurching over its shattered remnants, landing her bodily into his lap. His first reaction was to reach out in a vain attempt to cushion her fall. But he felt himself being crushed, the mounds of soft flesh enveloping his chest, forcing the air from his lungs. He felt her ponderous flab sagging between his legs. A throb of pain bolted through him as her ubiquitous adipose exerted a terrible pressure on his now exposed groin. Panicking, he instinctively tried to shift from under her suffocating force. The chair he sat on collapsed, tumbling them both to the floor. He found himself on the floor, his chest pressed against hers, her legs splayed, his own between them, their abdomens in alarmingly intimate contact. She was breathing heavily, her faced flushed. He squirmed from beneath her and sprung to his feet.
“Are you okay?” he pleaded. His mind was whirling. His research was ruined, his career lost, and now he had nearly killed his boss!
He looked down. She was wallowing on the floor, rolling first to one side, then the other, like some awkward insect flipped onto its back, with legs too short to gain purchase. “Well don’t just stand there gawking!” she demanded. He wasn’t sure what to do. So he stood there, gawking.
“Help me up!” she demanded, thrusting two beefy arms out toward him. He grabbed them, and pulled. It had no effect. She was just too big. He pulled again, harder, straining his arms. He could feel his joints stretching under the effort, his back bowing awkwardly, painfully. It was no use.
“Ugh!” She groaned in disgust. “Go get some help!”
Prisoner No. 34 