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The Good, The Bad and The Not-Pregnant

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The Good, The Bad and The Not-Pregnant

Postby notabot » Thu Apr 10, 2014 6:12 pm

The sun starts coming in through the window and I can hear the local dogs start to make a fuss. Time to get up, I suppose. With a groan, I sit myself up, my belly jiggling a bit as I move. I give it a rub as I look past my thin curtains, made from old bedsheets, to see that the sky was nice and blue, with some clouds for shade. A good day, but one that was going to be mighty busy.

I stand up, walking across the wood floors to the mirror on the side, checking my face and body to make sure no bugs or other vermin got over me in the night. After all, there’s plenty of me to crawl on and bite now. Thankfully, my skin’s still clear of blemishes and the belly and breasts are all still smooth as Mr. Doohan’s top-quality belts.

The next room has a bucket I prepared for myself. The little town of Barriguita, Texas doesn’t have the nice plumbing they have in those nice hotels in New York City or Boston, so my shower has to be a quick trip with this water. I lift it over my head and empty the contents over me, my long brown hair covering my eyes as I feel most of my body get doused with water.

A cloth mixed with some water and ivory soap comes next, wiping me down, getting everywhere the water didn’t reach, and with this belly, that’s a lot. Still, I get a satisfactory scrubbing and wash off with another bucket. I dry myself with a larger cloth and go back to my mirror, getting the hair out of my face with a comb whittled by Mrs. Jenkins down the road. A kind enough old lady, but she always insists I take a rest when I walk around. Wonder if she says the same to the other pregnant women in town or if she likes me special.

I reach down for the tape measure, wrapping it around my belly. I finally hit 100 inches around. I let out a little sigh and nod along. I figured this day would come soon enough, soon being the operative word I suppose. The rest of my body one might associate with a woman with child is growing proportionally, making me a bit too bosomy than I’d like.

Next comes getting dressed. The pants aren’t the hassle I thought they would be when my belly began approaching the 40-inch area. Now, I just sit against my bed and pull them up, nice and snug against my wide hips. My stance is good and long, thanks to years of horse riding, so it’s no strain.

Where my problem comes in now is my shirt. It’s all nice, button-front shirts that breathe well, but they haven’t fit for a long time. Ms. Morales, my preferred tailor, made it able to button closed at least, but I push the limits and show plenty of skin in between each button. She said I should just let her change my outfits to show off my big belly like all of the other pregnant ladies in the town, but I said the other ladies aren’t sheriff.

‘s right, I’m Sofia De La Rosa. Nice to make your acquaintance. I’m sheriff of Barriguita. An easy enough job when I took it a few seasons ago. Breaking up arguments outside the saloon, corralling scared horses, clearing the streets to make way for women in labor. That’s how it was when I started. I know this place could be a town of the first water if I put in some sweat and time. And today I’ll get to prove that, directly.

Afixin’ my star to my shirt, I head out for the first day’s chores. One of the perks of the sheriff’s office is a home right in the station, complete with a simple stable for my horse, Charlotte. Finest horse I’ve ever come across, terms of speed, strength, and temperament. I start by giving her some food and water and a few smooth brushes across her mane. Keeps her happy.

The stable’s also a good place to start my exercising. There’s plenty of heavy and sturdy piece of wood around, for lifting, for pull-ups, all sorts of things. Sheriff’s got to be strong after all, and to ride Charlotte, I need to be strong as Paul’s blue ox. What’s nice is that the stable walls give me some privacy. A seven-foot-tall woman starts lifting things around, people gather around like the circus is in down.

An hour of that and it’s time to have a look around town. I throw my wide hips over Charlotte, setting and adjusting the belly to not let the saddle leave any rough marks and trot into the bustling parts of Barriguita. Bustling to us, that is. A handful of people walking around the dusty streets, others relaxing on the stoops.

I give a wave and nod the brim of my hat at the passersby, most of the folks looking a bit dragged out. Not surprising, given how dreadful warm it is today. Charlotte is staying strong, but I give the girl a break as I stop in front of the general store, my deputy hard at work.

“Deputy,” I say, making his shoulders give a little jump. Jack Hullas, a young kid who had a good eye for details. Besides, most of the men in this town are either soaked every other night or would rather sit around and watch coffee boil than work. Hullas is a shy fellow, though, and gets bright red in the face every time he has to talk with me. Not quite sure why, but I’ll make a decent lawman out of him yet.

He turns around, nearly dropping the stacks of papers in his hands. “S-sheriff,” he says, eyes looking at my belly for a few before looking up at me. “Just putting new posters up.”

He hands me one, and it’s just as I thought: Big Betty. Still at large, pardon the double meaning. Poster doesn’t have too much more information on her: Robbing banks from New Orleans to Dallas, pregnant belly like a county fair winning watermelon, bounty closing in on $40,000. Marshalls and rangers must be having a blow-up. No doubt another botched capture attempt.

“Keep it up. And don’t forget the plan, deputy,” I say, stuffing the poster into my saddlebag and taking Charlotte’s reins in my hand. “When you finish with that stack, head for the saloon as speedy as you can.”

“Yes sheriff,” Jack says, eyes moving down south as I get Charlotte walking again, making my checks about town before stopping at the saloon.

I tie the old girl up near a full water trough and move inside, hands adjusting the hips on my pants. Riding also makes them tuck in a bit. As I adjust, which is particularly hard nowadays thanks to the tightness around my rear, I let my belly push the doors open and get a few friendly nods and a few not-so-friendly stares.

“Sheriff!” Luce, the bartender says, a big smile across her face as she wipes a glass dry. “Good to see ya, as always. What brings you in? Hope it’s nothing grim.”

“No, just pleasure,” I smile, turning my belly away as I sit at the bar, letting it jut out aways. I never come by when it’s too crowded because this little move takes up the space for the next seat or so. “And you’ve got the sturdiest stools in the county.”

I’ve probably used that line before but Luce still seems to find it rich enough, chuckling to herself. “Well here comes one of the reasons now.”

“Hello sheriff,” a syrupy sweet voice says behind me. Problem is I like my breakfast with butter, not syrup.

“Hello Marla,” I say, raising the brim of my hat and an eyebrow. Marla Murray is the saloon’s entertainer: dancing, singing, and waitressing. Every time I see her, there’s some new frilly dress around her legs and an equally French top to cover her bosom. Her belly, which rivals mine at the moment, is always left out to tan. Today, her attire is her preferred red, while her long brown hair is done up in some crazy braids with a big fake feather tucked on for good measure. “You’re working today?”

“I am,” she smiles, leaning over as much as she can, elbow on the bar counter. “You check my schedule?”

“Just to see when you’re off.”

Her cheeks swell with a pout as Marla gives me an offended shove. “Sheriff Sofia, I wish you wouldn’t tease a poor woman like me. Especially when we have so much history and friendship between us,” she adds, taking a strand of my hair and running it between her fingers.

“I’ll try and be more courteous,” I say calmly. “Perhaps you can do the same.”

“Anything to drink, Sheriff De La Rosa?” Luce asks. “All the milk today just got out of the ice box, so you won’t find anything fresher. Any particular farm you want to pick from?”

“Or, I asked Luce to keep a special supply just for my friends,” Marla whispers in my ear, her breath heavy and moist. “I made it myself.”

“Just the Tucker farm is fine,” I say, ignoring Marla. Everyone says she’s just a flirt but she’s always felt like a bit more. Luce slides me a mug of milk and I tip my head back, drinking a mouthful, rubbing my belly softly. A cool drink feels good on a dry Texas day like this. “What songs are you planning tonight, Marla?”

“Oh, a pianist from Kansas City is staying in town today and I’m going to get him to teach me some of those Midwest tunes. I love to give my fans something new,” Marla says, moving a bit closer to me, rubbing our stomachs together. “Of course, it would all be new to you, seeing as you hardly ever stop by.”

Marla’s Mississippi accent sneaks through when she gets a bit upset, which gets a chuckle out of me. “Maybe someday soon. Cleaning up town is no simple task.”

“Clean up Barriguita? Sheriff, we’re a simple little town. There’s not much trouble,” Marla says, putting her hands on her hips, accentuating her pregnant size.

“I wonder,” I smile, finishing my drink. “And I’ve told you enough times. We’re friends, Marla. You can call me Sofia.”

Marla gets a little red in the face, probably from standing up with that belly for too long, just in time for Jack to come inside, his face four times as red as he looks between us. “S-sheriff, all done.” He turns more directly to Marla. “A-and ma’am. If I had a hat, I’d tip it.”

Marla giggles and takes a tray of drinks Luce hands her, strutting around the saloon to give her orders out to other customers. “You’re a might nicer than your superior here. See if you can get Sheriff Sofia to accompany you to one of my performances here sometime soon. I’ll get you both a front row seat.”

I can tell this gets Jack worked up and a little flustered, his eyes darting between us. He’s a pinch too polite so butting in on Marla and my’s banter seems to have worried him. “Don’t worry Jack, we’ll be seeing the good lady again soon.” My eyes trace slowly as I see a sleek man, nice dark vest over a clean white shirt. Not too sweaty.

“Sheriff?” Jack says to me quietly.

“Good, you’re starting to notice too,” I say, nodding him toward the wall across from Luce’s bar counter. As he moves, I turn around to Luce, resting against the counter. “You might want to move into your store room, Luce.” I flash her a quick wink before turning around, walking toward the man who just entered, letting my belly bounce and wiggle in front of me.

“Hello,” he says with a smile, noticing the badge on my breast pretty quickly, as if his eyes were already there. “You’re the sheriff around here?”

“That’s right,” I say, hoisting my pants up again. “And I take it you’re this piano player from up North.”

“Very perceptive,” he smiles wider, putting his hands inside his vest proudly. “I try my best to dress like a Kansas City gentleman.”

“Of course. It shows,” I say, walking steps away from him, hand on my massive brown bulge of pregnant flesh as I look out the window. “And that’s your wagon outside. Big piece of equipment.”

“Well, I bring my own piano with me, sheriff. Just in case. Some of these one-towns are also zero-piano towns, know what I mean?” he laughs. I smile back, making my way back to where he’s standing.

“As you can see, Barriguita is a cut above what you were expecting,” I motion to the piano, old as it may be, on the stage. Jack comes back aways, standing behind the man and shaking his head, shrugging. “But you know, I was wondering if you could play a little something right now.”

The man’s hands fidgeted a bit. “You’ll have to wait until tonight for that, sheriff…”

“De La Rosa,” I say, flourishing the R. That seems to have given him a fuss on top of everything else.

“Sheriff Duh Lah Rosuh,” he says. “I make a living off of these hands, y’know.”

“Yes, I know how you make a living, sir,” I say, hands on the small of my back, both to look a bit more like a sharp and for the support. The rush seems to have encouraged the little ones to shift around. “Let me guess: you got picked up six hours ago, given a fresh pair of clothes and a quick make-over, promised cash after.”

“What are you talking about?” he protests.

“See, I get the papers. Even in a little one-horse town like Barriguita, sir. And reading up on this Big Betty, well, she seems to always have a getaway. In and out like a fright. Someone like that’s got to have some help,” I continue, bringing the brim of my hat down, obscuring my eyes as I turn back to the man. He’s getting powerful sweaty now. “A wagon that big…big enough for a piano, sure, and bouillon equivalent to a piano too I reckon.”

“Well hold on now, woman,” he starts to raise his voice. “I’m an honorable man and under the Con-ste-too-shun, I don’t have to take this kind of treatment, not from a lawman and ‘special not from a foreigner.”

“It’s dreadful hot today, sir. You should be much more dishelved, unless you threw this all together like a ball costume hours ago. But show me wrong: play a few ivories,” I say, my belly pressing against him. The height difference helps matters too.

“Sheriff!” Jack yells, this time up on the saloon’s second floor. “The bank attic can connect up here. It’s a leap, but-“

“You found it, deputy,” I yell back, rushing out the door. “Slap irons on this man.” The first time I gave Jack a pair of handcuffs he started shaking something fierce until I explained that I was giving him authority to make arrests. What else could he have been thinking they were for?

The local bank is right next to the saloon, a deal made by the owners a few generations past, so a logical getaway route. Crowded, unsuspecting, with a lot of space outside for a horse or a wagon.

The bank’s doors are bashed open by the big belly, its fullness and tightness coming in handy every now and then. “Sheriff Sofia De La Rosa,” I say. Most everyone is bound and gagged, a few nodding to the back. The safe door is open. Hunch was right.

Now for another hunch: I turn, knocking papers off a couple desks that’s to the gust produced by my stomach’s movement, and head up the bank’s stares, coming upon a locked attic door. Locked for security purposes, but a lot of good that did. I take in a breath and kick it in. As I do, I barely catch the legs of someone leaping from the bank’s attic window into the saloon’s.

I make my way over, looking down. She ripped up the floorboards and lowered a rope down into the vault…no, she threw a lasso up here for support and broke through up there. And to make the jump, she’s got to have a good body. But she’s not the only one.

I make the leap, my belly and breasts lifting, my body becoming weightless, which is a nice feeling as it lasts. When I land, the wood creaks beneath me and I hurry. Jack was stationed, ready to intercept our robber, but he’s staring at the blue sky on his back, blood running from his nose. Funny…doesn’t look like he got hit.

With no alternative to quicken my pace, I slide down the stair’s handle on my rear, my belly providing more than adequate weight to increase my speed. I hop down, ignoring the bouncing still going on all over my body and draw a big breath.

“Big Betty, you are under arrest for bank robbing all over the Gulf, by authority of the sheriff of Barriguita, Sofia De La Rosa!” I say, looking around the saloon, now deserted. “Show yourself.”

“Hello sheriff De La Rosa,” an amused voice says behind me. “I thought you might prove a challenge. Glad I took the extra precautions.” I turn around and see the woman so many have been chasing for months and months now. Gleaming, prideful eyes on a face so gorgeous you’d think she was a blackjack dealer. Smoke-black hair cut short, lips in a sneering laugh. And in her arms, the terrified body of Marla Murray. Now Marla’s plenty big, but seeing as Betty is as tall as me and appears to have about equal strength, it’s no struggle.

“Let her go, Betty,” I say calmly. “All that matters here is you and me.”

“No, this one seems like a mighty good hostage,” she grins, giving Marla’s exposed rear and bosom a squeeze in her arms. “Goodbye, Rosie. I hope you’ll give me another surprise.”

Before I can say anything to protest, a flash goes off in the middle of the room, sparks and smoke flying. I’m taken aback and wave it away from my eyes, trying to get a better vantage. But it’s no good. When I make it forward enough steps, the place is empty and I can see the wagon outside speed away. Betty’s got a good pair of horses with her too.

As we get all the facts together, I pace around the saloon. Rubbing the belly always helps the thoughts come together. Jack gathers what he can, just finishing up a chat with the bank tellers.

“They did an inventory. None of the cash, gold, any of that was taken. Just the promissory notes,” he says, short of breath still from the excitement.

“Worth plenty on their own and easy to care in a quick getaway,” I say. “She expected us to get a lead on her. Did you see how Big Betty escaped from upstairs?”

“Yes sheriff. She swiped her boots and I could see a bit of sparking. Then everything filled with smoke.”

“A flint on her shoes and the powder over there was left by Mr. Kansas City,” I say, shaking my head. “She’s good. Very, very good.”

“Do we have any information to give the marshals help finding where she’s off to next? Or a description of Miss Murray?”

The marshals. I stop prancing, leaving my hands on the swollen middle, feeling the movement inside. A lot of good the marshals have done us so far. “I have an idea where she’s going next, but we’re not telling the marshals, deputy.” I turn around, one hand on my hip. “I’m going after her personally.” I get a pad of scratch paper out of my pocket, making a quick note. “Luce, get on the telegraph and call up Hinchado, just on the edge of the county. Get them to give this message to Daisy Weller.”

“You got it, sheriff,” Luce says, taking the note, her face clearly still worried. I reach over, bucking up her chin.

“Don’t worry. I’ll have Marla back in here to bother customers in no time,” I say with a small smile, tipping the brim of my hat.

“She’s a good saloon girl,” Luce replies, filling up a mug with milk. “You’re the only one she bothers. Here, have a round on me. For the road.”

“For the road,” I say, polishing it off in one long drink. “Thanks, Luce.”

“Anytime, Sofia,” Luce nods back. I head out the door, stopping to turn back to my deputy. My belly keeps the doors open as I wait.

“Well deputy? Aren’t you coming along?”

Jack’s eyes nearly rolled out on the ground like billiards. “Y-you want me to go with you?”

“Of course. You’re my deputy, aren’t you? Barriguita will be fine for a few days without us.” I untie Charlotte and trot her in front of the saloon, heaving myself on to her back. “C’mon now, get on. We’ve lost too much time already.”

Charlotte’s big enough for both of us and Jack sits behind me. First, I get back to the office for some travel supplies, then I turn back to Jack.

“Alright, now you’re going to see first hand what a top-notch horse can do. Hang on tight, we’re going to be move across lots,” I say, giving the reins one strong shake. Charlotte shot off like a bullet, the wind like a knife against my face. But we’ve ridden together for many years and I’m used to it. It’s a thrill now. Having a big belly that takes the most of the force helps too.

The ride gives the little calves in there a scare at first, my whole insides like a square dance, but they calm down, learning to enjoy it like their mother. A kick or squirm every now and then, but they’re apt to do that. Charlotte’s been trained and strengthened to handle the weight of my swelling womb, just as I have, and she stays strong through the travel. Creeks and hills whir past, my eyes narrowed on our destination.

When I feel Charlotte begin to lose some spirit, I give her the signal to keep it up for another half-hour or so. We’re up against the river, so anywhere can make a good resting place for us. The appointed time comes and Charlotte slows down to a stop. Just in time: the sun’s setting quick.

I straighten my back out as I adjust to no longer riding, now noticing that Jack’s hands and clutched tightly on my breasts. “Deputy?”

A few moments later, Jack’s hands quickly retract. “S-sorry sheriff! You said to hold on to something and it was the first thing I could really-”

I shift my hips and get off of Charlotte, taking a few steps around on the ground. “No worries, I understand.”

“You…you do, sheriff?” Jack says, getting off on the other side of Charlotte.

“Yes, you needed something sturdy to hold onto and my belly made it difficult to wrap around my torso. It was an unorthodox approach, but it worked,” I say, nodding along, feeling my chest. “And my bosom has enough padding in it that you wouldn’t have caused any lasting damage or deformation.”

“G-good,” Jack says, his blushing not going away. He must have really worried about my safety.

Moving over to him, I put my hand on my second-in-command’s shoulder, giving him a smile. “And while we’re out here, we don’t have to be sheriff and deputy, Jack.”

Hoo, his redness is a good lot stronger now. “You mean…”

“That’s right, you can just call me Sofia,” I say, looking out at the setting sun. “I’ll pitch this tent and you get some fish, Jack. This river should be full of ‘em.”

By the time it got dark, we have a fire going, some fish and other provisions I brought cooking in a pan. I was working on my fourth course, Jack seemingly happy to continue fixing plates after he’d eaten.

“You’ve sure got a healthy appetite, sher…Sofia,” he says, shoveling another helping of portions onto my plate.

“Always have,” I say, using my belly as a plate. “Though it’s only gotten stronger over the last few months.”

This didn’t seem to surprise Jack. I wish he’d keep his eyes more on his cooking than watching me eat, though. I told him the quality doesn’t matter much to me. He doesn’t need to make sure I enjoy it.

“Well, we’d better get an early sleep so we can get an early start,” I say, heaving my knees to lift my round body. “I brought blankets for both of us.”

Jack looks between myself and the tent. “We’re not sleeping in separate tents?”

“I know I’m a little big, but we’ll both fit,” I chuckle, entering through the flap. There’s two sets of blankets, one to rest on the soft grass, the other to cover our bodies, and some hay-stuffed pillows. “We’re traveling light, but I think we can get a good sleep with this much. I’ve done it before, after all.”

“While you’ve been pregnant?” Jack asks, stepping into the tent.

An interesting point. “I never thought about it,” I say, shrugging and unbuttoning my pants. “Did you put the fire out?”

“Mmhmm,” Jack squeaks out, eyes on me as I get undressed. Seeing such a tall woman try to get out of her clothes in such a cramped environment must look a little funny to him.

“And I’ve tied Charlotte up, so we can relax and rest,” I smile, sitting down on my make-shift bed, undoing the buttons on the flimsy shirt that only covers my top half. “Go ahead and get undressed too, Jack.”

He hesitates to join in. Once my breasts are nearly exposed, I get under my blanket, lying on my side. As I expected, my belly takes most of the cover, but I think I’ll do alright.

“Sofia?” I hear Jack say cautiously. I turn a bit, looking over my shoulder.

“Yes, Jack?”

“It…gets pretty cold out on the plains at night. Maybe we should get closer together. S-share body heat,” he says. He’s clearly shuddering. He’s much colder than I expected.

“That’s a good plan, Jack,” I smile, scooting a bit closer to him. “You’ll make a good deputy yet.” I take one of his arms and wrap it around me, between my breasts and belly, keeping it nice and secure. I turn back on my side, feeling him press against my bare back. Strange, he doesn’t feel cold at all, but he’s still shaking. “There we go, good?”

“Good,” he says, face muffled against my long, coffee hair. With that, I take a deep breath and close my eyes, drifting to sleep.


Something presses against my back as I wake up. I blink and look around, feeling Jack’s embrace against me and give a little smile. He doesn’t seem to have much experience traveling around like this. I slowly get out of his grip, giving him some time to get more sleep and recover energy when I hear a rustling outside.

“Who’s there?” I say loudly. This wakes up Jack, who looks over at me, already crouching on my knees. I don’t even have time to put my shirt or other clothes and I’m not heeled, so if whoever’s out there is armed, it might be a tough getaway.

“Sofia?” a familiar voice says, as Daisy’s smiling head comes through the tent flap. “Looks like my trackin’s as good as it’s ever been.” She looks between Jack and myself, her smile growing. “I interrupt anything?”

“Just some sleep,” I sigh, sliding my shirt on and stepping over Jack. “You gave me enough of a scare that coffee won’t be necessary this morning.” I join her outside, buttoning up my top as I look around. Charlotte and our bags are still here and I can see Daisy’s trusted horse, Buster, waiting by the river, having a drink.

Daisy’s maybe a head shorter than me, her belly a few tailor’s stiches smaller too. Not that she covers that roundness up, of course. All Daisy’s got on is half of a white shirt with a thick leather jacket over top, long blond hair rolling down the back. She’s wearing those blue denim pants they like so much in California, which with the size of her rear, make my tight pants look roomy by comparison.

“You didn’t give a lot of details about what you needed me for, De La Rosa,” Daisy says, putting her hands on her hips, spitting a sunflower shell into the dirt. “But I can take a professor’s guess.”

“Big Betty,” I nod, turning around, looking down the stretch of the river. “She’s got a hostage from my town too. I’ve got to find her, Daisy.”

Jack steps out from the tent, already clothed, looking between us, eyes on our bellies once again. “H-hello,” he says quietly to Daisy.

“Jack, this is Daisy Weller, top place at the North Texas rodeo for the past few years and an old friend of mine. If we’re giving chase on horse, there’s no one I’d rather have,” I say, looking at Daisy with pride. “She’s also a lot more use in a crisis than any Texas Ranger or federal marshal, that’s for sure.”

“Nice to meet you, miss,” Jack says. “I-if I had a hat, I’d tip it.”

“That supposed to be your way of wooing me, kid?” Daisy grins, looking between us.

“This is Jack Hullas, my deputy,” I say, hand on Daisy’s shoulder. I don’t want anyone teasing one of my subordinates. “And we’re all on the same team here, so let’s communicate and not stump one another. I’ve been reading the news on Big Betty for weeks to prepare for the day she’d try to rob Barriguita’s bank. You see, since she made it to Texas, she’s been following rivers North. Barriguita’s the only town with a bank for miles around, so that’s how I knew she’d hit us. And we’re following the river now, so if we keep it up, we’re sure to find Big Betty and Marla eventually.”

“You sure we can catch up to her?” Jack asks.

I smile and shake my hair out, heading back to the tent for my pants, which seems to give Jack a nervous shake again and get laughs out of Daisy. “You rode Charlotte, deputy. The only horse I’m willing to say can keep up with her is Buster over there. We’ll catch her.”

I spend some more time bent over, looking for my pants than I expected, the cool wind bustling across my rear, giving me a chance to shiver for once instead of Jack. I can only barely make out what Daisy is whispering and teasing my deputy about. Something like “good tastes” and “want to rub” but I’m not quite sure.

Daisy gives me a hand collapsing the tent when I’m dressed and Jack packs up the rest, hopping onto the back of Charlotte with me. Daisy gets onto Buster, trotting him around to get beside us. “No saddle?” Jack says, looking over at Daisy.

Daisy pats her shockingly large rear with a grin. “All the saddle I need is right here.” I hear Jack let out a little moan, so I adjust on Charlotte’s back to give him more room. I’m aware of my size and I can take up some space sometimes.

“Alright, we can’t hang fire anymore. Jack, hold on tight. We’re going to catch up with Big Betty,” I say. Jack reaches his hands to my breasts again, which have been a proven, useful way to support himself during Charlotte’s sprints.

“Getting bolder?” Daisy smiles, tying her blond locks back in a ponytail, gripping her reins.

I assume she’s talking about me. “I have cause to be bold today, Daisy.” I shake Charlotte’s reins. “Hya!”

Once again, we bolt down the riverside, my eyes peering ahead for any obstacles Betty might have left, or Betty herself. Nothing for miles and miles, until I spy the river’s forking ahead. “Hold!” I bark quickly, pulling back on the reins to slow Charlotte down. Buster takes note next to me, slowing as we see a wagon waiting by the riverside, a heavily pregnant woman standing with her arms crossed, the same sinister smile on her face that I saw yesterday.

“Rosie, you made it after all,” Betty chuckles. She has on almost all black, from her boots to her pants, to her shirt, which leaves her huge belly exposed, as is the fashion nowadays I suppose. The “big” in Big Belly is fitting, if not unimaginative.

“You are under arrest for bank robbery,” I repeat, getting off Charlotte to make my way over to her. “You can’t use a black powder trick again.”

“True,” Betty smiles, nodding, waddling around the wagon as I follow her, keeping my eyes keenly on her actions. “Your horse is impressive, Rosie, though traveling by wagon does slow me down.” She turns around and widens her mocking grin. “And I have more cargo than usual.”

Marla. “Where is your hostage?” I growl.

“In here, sheriff!” Marla’s voice says from the inside of the wagon, covered by a large round tarp. “Oh, she’s been awful. She tied me up. Help me, darlin’!”

“Looks like I’m adding another charge,” I say. “Come with me.”

I see a flash of silver and take a quick step back. Betty has a Bowie knife in her hand, but holds it casually. “I don’t expect I’ll be caught by you, Rosie. You’re good, but you’re just not that good.” With a few hops off of the wagon, Betty gets onto the back of one of the wagon’s two horses, gripping the handles. “If the roles were reversed, I’m not sure I could catch you either.”

Betty gives the other horse a kick in the rear. It lets out a loud neigh and runs for the river. Her knife separated her horse from the rest of the party.

“What now?” I say, looking over at the wagon moving away. “A distraction?”

“Of sorts,” she says, holding up her knife. “See, I didn’t just cut Typhon here free. I frayed the rope connecting Echidna over there to the wagon. She’s a strong enough horse to get across the river, but that rope sure won’t hold. And the currents are pret-ty strong.” Betty grins and gives her horse a kick on the side. “Better than a smoke trick, huh Rosie?”

Betty runs off in a blur as I look horrified between her shrinking figure in the distance and the wagon, slowing down in the river. “Help! Help!” Marla’s shrieks can still be heard. For the first time since taking up the sheriff’s role, I freeze with fear and indecision.

I can thank my lucky cards I don’t need to. Jack runs into the river, swimming with surprising skill to the wagon. “Sofia!” Daisy yells behind me. “We’re going after Betty?”

“No, you stay with Jack,” I say, running back to Charlotte. “He can swim to the wagon, but I doubt he can swim back with Marla with him.” I climb onto my girl’s back, gripping the reins as tight as I’ve ever held them. “I can handle Big Betty by myself.”

Daisy nods and gets her lasso ready. I head after my target, Charlotte sensing my feelings in that peculiar way only horses can. We move faster than I remember ever going, my shirt starting to tear, clinging sparsely to my bosom.

I make it within a few horse lengths of Betty. Now I wish I had Daisy’s rodeo talent, but both of us couldn’t have fit on the same horse anyway. I can make it close enough to see the grin on Betty’s face, but not enough to do anything about it.

We both resist the urge to toy with one another verbally and risk biting our tongues, but I can see the look on Betty’s face. It was teasing, excited. Daring me to see what I would do next.

Lucky for her, I prepared something in my spare time around the campfire. Reaching into the saddlebag, I pull out a small black ball with a fuse. I hold the fuse against the side of Charlotte’s saddle and swipe quickly, throwing it a good yard ahead of us. It bursts into a cloud of smoke and sparks, making Betty’s Typhon let out a shriek, turning and slowing down, getting on its hindlegs a few times. I feel Charlotte slow down and get scared too, but I stroke her back calming her down to a trot as I circle Betty.

To my surprise, Betty’s grin isn’t gone. In fact, it’s grown and her face is dripping with sweat. “You really surprised me with that one!” she pants. “That was a crazy move. You could have scared your horse and killed yourself.”

“I can control my horse,” I say, looking Betty in the eye sternly. “Seems you can too.”

Betty laughs and laughs, hand on her face. “Yes, yes, you’re perfect,” Betty says, stepping off her horse, hand under her belly for support. “Someone to give me a true challenge for the first time. But we can’t keep chasing each other out here, sheriff. I’m sure you realize that too.”

It’s true. Charlotte’s getting worn down and we’ll just be close enough to spit on one other over and over again. I get off of Charlotte and waddle over to Betty, our bellies pressing together. “What do you propose?”

“A high-noon stand-off,” Betty says, looking up at the sky. “What do you say?”

I don’t see a pistol on her sides and she left her knife back at the river. I also have confidence in the body I built up to carry my growing belly around. “You have a deal. If you win, you’re free to go for now. But if I can beat you, we wind up this whole business and you come back to Barriguita to stand trial.”

“Only fair,” Betty smiles, tracing a circle around us with her toes. “A fitting match for two women like ourselves. We can’t quite get close enough to use our hands and we’re too civilized to use any weapons, so here’s what we’ll do: whoever can push the other out of this circle using their belly comes out on top.”

The circle’s not too big and we’re roughly the same size. “I accept,” I say, pressing my belly closer to hers. “Start?”

“Bell’s rung,” Betty grins, putting her hands on her hips and giving a strong push. I take a step back before I stabilize myself, stunned by how much power she had at the start. I dip my hips and give a push back, bringing us both back to the center. Her skin is sweaty and soft against my own, making it hard to push effectively. I give a bit too much force in the wrong place and slide against her belly, taking a step forward, which Betty side-steps, now pushing me to the other edge of the circle.

“You’ve done this before?” I say, trying to hold my position again.

Betty grins. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Rosie. Under different circumstances, I’d love to have shared more with you. Your saloon friend certainly wasn’t in the mood to talk. All she did was sob, no matter how softly I caressed her belly.”

I take a step forward, pushing Betty a few inches. “You wolf…”

“Don’t have a blow-up, Rosie,” Betty says, smiling as sweat continues to pour down her face. “You need to concentrate. You never know when your opponent’ll do something like this!”

Betty reached forward and grabbed my already-worn top, ripping it off, letting my breasts hang open. The added weight on either side of my belly and the added weight on my back makes me lose balance a few steps.

“You violated your own rules!” I yell, managing to keep Betty from making another advance.

“I can’t push you with anything but my belly,” Betty smiles. “Everything else is fair game.” She reaches forward and runs one finger down my exposed nipple, getting a peep out of me.

“I see.” My mind races for a way to find a way to get the advantage back, short of stripping Betty myself. I figure she’s got some sort of trick hidden on her somewhere. Or the moment I reach over, she’ll have my arms in a lock. No, I’ve got to get through this with just my belly.

We continue to push against one another, our roundness heaving and thrusting against the others’, little progress being made on my part. “Getting tired, Rosie?” Betty purrs. It’s true: in a game she’s played before, Betty has the endurance advantage.

“Not yet,” I say, one idea creeping into my mind. I move my belly more to the side, stroking it gently instead of using my hands to prop up my back.

“Getting sentimental now?” Betty smiles. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on taking you with me when I leave. You’ll go back to your little life as a sheriff.”

“Sentimental?” I smile back. For once, she doesn’t expect what’s coming next. “No, I’m focused right here, right now.” I start dipping my knees and hips, shaking my belly around as much as I can while keeping it close against Betty’s.

“What’s this? A distraction?” Betty’s smile fades a bit. It’s harder for me to push against her at this position, but the same is true for her. We’re stuck for now.

I just smile back. “You never had much compassion for what’s going on in your stomach, did you Betty?” Before she can respond, my moves stirred up enough excitement with the little ones in my belly, who start kicking furiously against the sides of my belly.

The kicks added with my pushing gives Betty an unexpected nudge to the side. I take advantage by turning and giving her a strong push with my belly, hands back on my hips.

“You kept an ace hidden in the sleeve,” Betty smiles as she rests on one leg, just on the edge of the circle. “Nice trick, but I can get out of this too, Rosie.”

“I wonder,” I say, reaching forward and squeezing Big Betty on her chest. She lets out a quick moan. That’s my window to give her one last push, knocking Betty out of her own circle. “Weren’t expecting that, were you?”

“I wasn’t,” Betty says, face bright red as she looks around. “My belly is blocking the view of my feet, but it feels like I stepped out.”

“And you know what that means,” I say, smiling back before I get a surprise push back from Betty.

“Of course, since neither of us can really see, thanks to these tummies, I see no reason to quit,” Betty grins. “But this time, I’ll play to win.” A brown cord of rope falls down around Betty, tightening around her arms and shoulders as Daisy rides over, the other end of the rope in her hands.

“A static target? Too easy,” Daisy smiles, looking down at my bare chest. “And you got into some trouble, I see. I’ll bet Jack wishes he was here to see this.”

“He already has pride and respect for his sheriff, I suspect,” I say, taking a step back and walking to Betty’s saddlebag, looking for any additional weapons. “Daisy, your jacket please.”

When I get covered up and have Betty tied up as well, we make it back to the river, the wagon pulled up onto land thanks to Daisy’s rope skills and her rodeo physique. I open up the back and see Marla embracing Jack tightly, his blushing face buried in her bosom.

“M-miss, you’re welcome and all, but I should be-”

“No, I’m going to thank you and thank you for saving me, hon,” Marla says, tightening her hug against my deputy.

“You look safe, Marla,” I say, smiling. This makes Marla drop Jack and step quickly toward me.

“Sheriff De La Rosa!” she says, hugging me now. “You saved me! I feel like a princess my momma would read to me about when I was little!”

“Glad you’re safe,” I say, patting her on the back. “This wagon looks like it’s still useable. I think we’ll keep that crook Big Betty on here. You can ride on Charlotte. I’ll walk alongside.”

“As long as I’m away from that wicked woman,” Marla says, shaking her head. “But you know, that Jack boy showed me a lot more care than you nearly ever do. I might have to give him the same care and attention I give you at the saloon.”

“I don’t get jealous,” I smile, breaking the hug. “We should get back to town so you can entertain folks at the saloon once again. What do you say?”

“Of course, sheriff!” Marla smiles, waddling over to Charlotte. Daisy brings me Betty and Jack helps load her into the back.

“We’ll hold you here until the trial can be scheduled and you will be transferred wherever the authorities say you need to go,” I tell Betty, looking her in the eye.

“C’mon Rosie, don’t be stiff as a board. You can show a little pride in catching me. I know I’m surprised. No sheriff I’ve ever met holds a candle to you,” Betty says. “I just wish we could have played more.”

“That won’t be happening,” I say, closing the back of the wagon, tying Typhon back onto the wagon and heading for Barriguita.


Once back, it’s not half an hour with Big Betty behind town bars when the marshals show up. “Well, well,” I say, legs up on my desk. “Look who it is.” I take my feet down quickly. It’s not a pose that can be done easily, thanks to the belly.

“Sheriff De La Rosa, state authorities thank you for finding the location of Big Betty, but we will take it from here,” one of them says, taking his hat off. “She’s committed felonies all across Texas, after all.”

“And you’ll be taking credit for the arrest, I’m guessin’,” I say, standing up, hand on my desk, the other reaching for my hat.

“We’ve got the better authority,” the other one smiles. “We’ll mention you in the report.”

“Mmhmm,” I say, waddling out the door. “Well, not much I can say, then. You can see your ways out.”

At the saloon, I polish off a tall glass of milk that Luce insists is on the house. “Those snakes,” Marla says, shaking her head. “All the work you put in. Does Jack know?”

I shake my head. “He’s off with Daisy. Probably filling out some paper work. It’s his first big case, after all.”

“Well, I still appreciate the work,” Marla says. “You saved me, after all. Maybe I should join Daisy and thank Jack personally.”

“Join Daisy?” I say, raising an eyebrow, confused. “But they’re just doing paperwork. Do you think they’re doing something else?”

Marla giggles. “Never mind. Say…now that things have calmed down…why not come by tonight? I’m doing a big number now. It’ll get be back into the routine.”

I smile softly. “You know what Marla? I’ll be there.” I put the glass down, wondering what the “special milk” Marla said she made for me tastes like. As I turn to ask her where her farm is, someone comes rushing into the saloon.

“Sheriff! There’s big commotion down at the jail!”

I make my way over there, finding those two marshals on the floor. One has a hand on his bloody nose, the other between his legs. And in the jail: no Big Betty.

“You let her get away, huh?” I say, taking my hat off.

“She said she was going into labor,” the bloody nose marshal said. “And when we went in to check, bam, here we are. No one could catch that witch.”

“Well, someone did,” I sigh, stepping over their bodies to look around the cell. On the seat, there’s a piece of paper.

Rosie!

You liked the fun too, didn’t you? Well, now you can try and catch me again. But bank robbing’s dull, so I might try a better crime next time. Look for me in the papers and give me a challenge! But as a reward for catching me this first time, I’ll give you my last name. “Big Betty” is such an ugly name for a young woman. I’m Betty Hollings, but call me Holly, okay?

xoxo


I shake my head and put the note in my pocket. The townspeople are right. You don’t need to put in a lot of sweat and elbow grease into being sheriff of Barriguita. But when you do, some interesting things come up.
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Re: The Good, The Bad and The Not-Pregnant

Postby Zaloog90 » Thu Apr 17, 2014 3:56 pm

Well that was a good read, excellent work. Do hope you'll post more of your work here.
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Re: The Good, The Bad and The Not-Pregnant

Postby notabot » Thu Apr 17, 2014 6:15 pm

I posted a lot of stuff on the original Pregnant Community but most of it's gone and I don't know how much I can get back. I'll try to repost as much as I can.

I've also got a lot of stuff posted here: http://aryion.com/g4/gallery/notabot
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