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This might not be anyones favorite at first... but trust me, I'm building into something here. ;-)\n\n[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QadyWjo9-ek]Billy's gone wild[/url], and Hilda has a very bad day.\n\nShit happens...", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Okay... this one got surprisingly longer than the previous installments.  This might not be anyones favorite at first... but trust me, I'm building into something here. ;-)

Billy's gone wild, and Hilda has a very bad day.

Shit happens...", "writing": "[center]BIG BELLY BILLY\nChapter Four: Shit In a Bag\n---------------------\nNovember, 1993[/center]\n\nIt's been a couple months since the blowout at the changing booth. Dad was royally pissed when he saw what his boy had been doing to himself. He had seized the little glutton by the collar of his shirt, and quietly, angrily seethed... “Two hundred pounds? No... I'm sorry... Two hundred and EIGHT fucking pounds?! William, I'm a grown adult cat and even I don't weigh that much! How? How could you let this happen? I swear, it's like you did this on purpose! Is that it? Do you have a fucking eating disorder or something?” Billy knew he was in for it when even dad called him 'William'.\n\nBilly was in tears. He couldn't even speak. He knew this day was coming, but still... he'd never seen his old man this angry in his life. Hell, he'd barely seen his dad show any real emotion ever, other than the misery he wallowed in after mom ran out. The entire car ride home his father went on and on about the 'Dangers of obesity!' and how he 'Can expect some big changes around here!'. Billy just sat, quietly sobbing in the back seat, cradling his precious belly whenever his dad was giving him the angry-glare in the rear view mirror.\n\nAnd change things certainly did! Dad had hired on Hilda for more time to oversee the boy on weekends and most evenings of the school week. This was mostly to monitor his meals. She was instructed to periodically sweep his room for hidden contraband treats. Hilda dropped him off at school every morning, and picked him up most days too. Some days dad was there to personally escort the child. It was like prison!\n\nSchool was certainly no picnic either. It wasn't enough the lunch lady and the school nurse received written instructions to monitor his eating. But the torment from the other cubs at school was unrelenting as well. Billy was never popular to begin with, and he didn't yet understand how cruel other children tended to be towards 'the fat kid' until he became one himself. He was fine through kindergarten and the first grade when he was slender, and awkward thus mostly ignored. In fact, Billy liked be left alone to enjoy reading his comic books or doodle pictures in his notebooks... and a little later to munch on snacks by himself so he wasn't expected to share. But now everywhere he turned he had to be on the look out lest he get tripped, wedgied, or aggressively have his belly poked while the other boys would chant “Big Belly Billy, Big Belly Billy” over and over again. The gym coach, a graying leopard with the unfortunate name Mr. Diddlefinger, even seemed to encourage the behavior. And when Billy would cry to his father about his day Eric simply responded that it was okay because it would help Billy really learn his lesson.\n\nBilly knew better than to tell anyone he wanted to be fat. It seemed such a wondrous and fantastical thing to him, but somehow caused extreme disgust in others. His mother's occasional phone calls from overseas even ceased once Eric told her what happened to their boy. Eric certainly didn't hide his joy in sending her a series of polaroids he'd taken of Billy's obese body the same afternoon of the booth incident, enclosed with note telling her she did this to him, it was her fault for 'wantonly abandoning her maternal duties'. He knew his soon-to-finally-be-ex-wife must've had an aneurysm knowing that her sweet little William had become an insatiable glutton practically as soon as she left.\n\nHis birthday was was only a couple weeks after that day, and he didn't even get a cake. Not even a cupcake! Dad didn't even come home that weekend. But he made sure Hilda was at the homestead to watch after his obese kitten. The only present Billy received for his ninth birthday was a treadmill with an excruciatingly generic birthday card attached, signed by his dad with the simple note inside 'Happy birthday fatboy. This is the only gift you've earned, now use it.' Billy hated immediately despised the contraption. And Hilda did indeed make him get on it and go. It was some of the worst torture in Billy's young life. Worse than his cruel classmates. Somehow even worse than Mr. Diddlefinger making him do jumping jacks and crack wise about his jiggling body to the entire class! But Billy did have one small success in the days following his birthday when he 'accidentally' spilled a water bottle onto the monstrosity and shorted it out. Dad hadn't bothered to spend money replacing it either. Not yet anyway. Billy shuddered to think what kind of disappointments Santa Claws yet had in store for him.\n\nThe cub was miserable. Helpless and watching his prized belly start to melt away seemed somehow far more upsetting than his mother leaving the family. All his hard work on those glorious summer days, stuffing himself silly until he'd practically doubled his starting weight, swelling up with blubber by the day. It just seemed like a bittersweet dream now as he looked down at his shrinking body. He didn't even want to get on the scale anymore... something that previously brought him much so much pride and joy. Now his dad had to force him onto it every Saturday morning.... 208 became 192. 185 melted into 173. 173 backslid into 167. It was horrifying! And here he was, a mere 152lb shadow of his former girth, with no end to the forced diet in sight. Sure, he was still quite plump by any other fur's standards. But Billy knew this was not himself. He felt caged and cheated as the pounds continued to slip away from him. \n\nAt one point Billy had even tried to stop himself from shitting as a desperate, misguided attempt to make the most of the small amount of calories he was currently taking in. It was easier said than done of course. All that roughage did nothing but make him need to poop even more! This was extremely uncomfortable but still, with seemingly no other options left he was determined to try.\n\nHowever It was a short lived experiment that came to an abrupt and inevitably messy end. Billy held on best he could... until that one dreadful afternoon in gym class when Mr. Diddlefinger was once gain forcing him to do sit-ups. Billy was crying, sweating profusely, and clenching his little pucker for dear life all the while straining to do his eighth sit-up of the thirty the coach was demanding of him. Three entire days of withheld waste without a single trip to the bowl except to piss was a lot of pressure for the young kitten to be carrying. Even just merely walking was a risky gamble at this point! And he tried to play sick and get out of gym, but the coach simply wouldn't hear of it. In the end, nature took over and made the decision for Billy as his poor little bowels exploded a torrent of chunky, vile smelling diarrhea for all his classmates to see! And even more unfortunately, smell! It was running down his legs from under his shorts. Dribbling onto the floor, leaving a rancid trail of doo-doo butter as he cried the entire trip to the nurses office. Echoes of 'Big Belly Billy' and 'Fatboy shit his pants!' haunting his walk of shame every humiliating step. And to add insult to injury his dad had been called in to come pick him early. The poor kitten never felt so defeated in his life as when he sat in the back seat of the car on a pile of towels, stewing in his own mess while his dad drove recklessly fast with all the windows down. For once he actually couldn't wait to take a shower. All the while his dad mumbling about 'what the fuck was wrong with him' and 'did mom really mess you up this bad?'\n\nAnd that's how things wound up here... sitting at the dining room table, a plate full of disappointment staring back at him. And the cold gaze of the vixen across from him. “Billy... we're not leaving the table until you eat your vegetables. Don't you want to finish up in time to watch your Arachno-Man cartoon?”\n\nBilly just sat and pouted. His silence the only response to the housekeeper. Hilda felt bad for the cub. Sure she was only following Erics instructions. Nonetheless, she felt bad for him too. She knew he hated the foods he's being forced to eat. She suddenly felt a wave of guilt, realizing that perhaps eating her meatloaf in front of the boy wasn't helping the situation, even if the kitten was desperately in need of learning some self control. A fact she understood this months ago, but it wasn't her place to say, and Eric didn't seem to care at the time as the kid just kept growing fatter and fatter. His father certainly should have put his foot down a lot sooner. Hilda understood most cats were flexible enough to lick their own tailholes, but she had no idea how he managed to shove his head so far up his own ass for so long. Nonetheless, he was paying her well, and she definitely needed the work. And while she understood this forced diet was in the child's best interest, she did take some pity on him, and got up from the table to tuck the rest of her dinner away in the fridge for later. Their was a lock on the fridge now as well, and only she and Eric knew the combination. Slight scratches and claw marks on the door and the lock where Billy desperately tried to gain access as though he was starving. The kid really needed help and his father simply didn't have the emotional capacity to give Billy the guidance he so obviously and desperately needed.\n\n“It's not fair, y'know” the little chubby kitten mumbled angrily. He looked like he was about to cry again, and Hilda's heart sank.\n\n“Little one, please listen... I know your father, he is harsh with you. He is stubborn, just like you... but he does love you, even if he bad at showing it. Every father wants his child to have a long, healthy life. Your life will be miserable if you cannot even move your own body off of the couch, I promise you.” Hilda took a soft tone with the boy, trying to reason with him the way his parents should have been doing all along.\n\n“Yeah?! But I'm HAPPY on the couch! I'm happy when I'm eating! Why is it being taken away from me?! Mom went away, dad's always away! They get to do what makes THEM happy, but I'm not allowed to do what makes ME happy and it's not fucking fair!” Billy shouted in a tearful outburst.\n\n“Language little one! I will let that f-word slide this one time because I know you are upset. Now, please, settle down and listen to Hilda... I know you cannot understand now, but we are all looking out for you, child.” Hilda stepped over to his chair, moving in to give Billy a hug. When was the last time anyone even hugged the boy? No wonder he was so turned around.\n\n“Keep your goddamn paws off me!” he squealed, jumping up from the chair and flipping his plate of vegetables onto the floor Hilda's heart ached even more for the boy, but he couldn't be excused such behavior, even if she understood his frustration.\n\n“Billy... one more swear from you, and I will have to wash your mouth out with soap.” she replied gently. “Come, sit back down, please...”\n\n“Uh-uh! Go ahead! Shove soap in my mouth! It'll taste better than this leafy crap your making me eat!” he raged, than just as suddenly hung his head, his little body shuddering as he started to cry again. “I.... I didn't even get any cake for my birthday. Not even then! Mom doesn't care, dad doesn't care, so why should you care? Nobody really cares about what I want... they just want me to be there 'perfect little kitten'... and I hate it. I hate them, I hate you, I hate school, I hate everyone!” he sobbed. His facial fur was drenched with tears as he looked down at the floor and his shrinking belly, once so proud, and big! Now, he was actually able to look down and easily see his toes! “I.... I even hate myself now!”\n\nBilly started angrily marching towards his bedroom, Hilda tried to grab for his arm and pull him in for a hug he desperately needed even if he didn't know it. But the kid just brushed her angrily and kept marching towards his room, slamming the door behind him as hard as he could. “Billy, please... you must not say such hurtful things. It is just your anger talking right now.” she spoke softly to the door, just loud enough the kitten could hear her.\n\n“Leave me alone! You don't understand at all! You helped do this to me! Your helping dad do this to me! I'm sick if it!” the poor kid was hysterical now. Hilda has never seen him so upset, and she desperately wanted to make it better for him.\n\n“Billy, would you calm down and listen if I shared some cookies with you? I know it's not the birthday cake you might be wishing for, but...” the door cracked open a little before she could finish and Billy was peering at her from the crack with the look of desperate longing in his clear blue eyes.\n\n“Y.... y-you really mean it? No tricks?”\n\n“No tricks, Billy. I promise you some cookies, but only a few! And only if you promise to come back out and help me clean up the mess you made in the dining room first. I won't even tell your father. Do we have a deal?”\n\nSlowly the door crept open some more. Billy stood there, his tears had abated as his tantrum fast ran out of steam at the mere mention of cookies. Delicious cookies! Billy hadn't had a single cookie in weeks! Even just a few would be a godsend to him right now! “Okaaaaaaaay... deal. But you better not be lying to me.” the kid threatened half heartedly... their wasn't much he could do otherwise, even if it was some kind of trick. But Hilda has never lied to him before and he knew that. Even if she had followed along with his fathers meal plan, in all the months since she's been around, she'd always at least seemed honest. And despite it all, even those stupid bowls of fruit, Billy did kind of like her. She at least treated him like a being with actual feelings, and not merely as some kind of possession or status symbol as his own parents seemed to relegate him to.\n\nOver the next half hour Billy quietly helped Hilda clean up the floor. At least the good thing about it not being some delicious pasta... or mac and' cheese, oh he so missed mac and cheese! .. .it made for a relatively easy mess to clean up. Nonetheless he made a point of fumbling along slowly so that the vixen wound up doing most of the work. Than as promised she sat down on the couch with him and found a cartoon that he liked to watch. But he barely paid attention to the TV as he watched Hilda dig into the large, fancy white leather carry bag she always brought along with her. He watched in the way a lion would, waiting for the moment to pounce it's prey... Holy shitballs! She really is breaking out a box of cookies! Finally after so long, some real fucking food! Billy was elated as he watched the carton appear from the bag as if time was going in slow motion. His thingy was even feeling that fun tingly-feeling for the first time in weeks! Watching as the box label revealed itself... oh what kind, what kind, what kind! Chocolate chip, oh fuck yes, his favorite! But something seemed off. These didn't look like the light blue of his favorite brand, Chip's Aplenty. This package was green. Some other brand it seemed. Okay... Billy wasn't going to be picky. He was just excited for cookies!\n\nUntil he saw what the brand name in fact was...\n\nWaist Always Fat Free Cookies?! They were a goddamn lie after all! How dare she! Fucking fat free!? Billy's face quickly shifted from a toothy, hungry grin into a hateful scowl as he hissed at the white fox. Hilda recoiled in shock “Billy... are... are you okay? What is wrong, little one?”\n\nAs if she didn't know. How dare she trick him! “Fuck you Hilda! Fuck your fucking bullshit cookies to fucking hell!” Billy yelled and slapped the box out of her paws onto the floor before jumping off the couch. Clearly already losing his breath as he marched off to the safety of his room, stomping his feet-paws the whole way. The kitten slammed his bedroom door shut so violently it shook the walls. A painting of some painfully generic waterfront landscape fell off the wall. Alongside it came a framed family picture of a younger, slender Billy together with both his parents the Christmas right before his mother left them for good. The glass in the frame shattered allover the hardwood floor of the hallway. \n\n“Billy?! Has the devil gotten into you child!” Hilda shouted. It was actually the first time Billy ever heard the vixen truly raise her voice... her Swedish accent became very apparent when she yelled. “I am calling your father this instant!”\n\nMoments later Billy could hear Hilda on the phone in the kitchen ranting away to his father, sounding both angry and very upset as she described the boy's violent fit. Cautiously opening his door he peeked his head out to listen. “...I am only trying to help him, but he just lashes out for seemingly no reason! I do not know how much more....”\n\nNo reason? Did she truly not understand what she did? Billy just didn't buy it. He gave Hilda a chance, actually wanted to trust her... but now he just wanted to repay her betrayal. Maybe if he could scare her off he'd get some of his evenings back to himself? Not as if dad would ever make time for him every single night of the week. And forget about weekends. Maybe this could could buy him some alone time. Maybe he could finally find a way to start fattening himself back up again? He'd even gladly accept candy from strangers in the park everyone warned him about! Who knows, maybe one of those fabled strangers with candy would take him away from this miserable life and give him a new one where he was constantly fed treats and became a massive ball of pudge who couldn't even walk anymore! Billy's weeny started to stiffen up again as he imagined this... he knew that meant he must be especially hungry! And his tummy was gurgling like crazy. But... wait. It wasn't just hunger pangs he was feeling. Billy knew this churning feeling from his experiment last week. When he held his poo poo in for too long it started to hurt just like this, and that meant he really should go to the bathroom.\n\nBut what if he went to the bathroom... someplace else? What if he left Hilda a very special 'thank you' for the would be cookies? Billy started to giggle to himself and had to clasp his paw against his face to help stifle the noise. He didn't want to give himself away, but he also couldn't stop cackling away like a goblin over the stunt he was about to attempt. \n\nSlowly creeping his way down the hall, back into the living room, Billy kept his ears sharp for the conversation in the kitchen. It wasn't exactly hard to hear Hilda still all worked up on the phone, and this told Billy he still had time. Silently creeping along as only a cat could, he made his way to his mark. Hilda's fancy leather bag was still on the couch, it's contents spilled out slightly from the incident just moments earlier. Billy quickly snatched it off the couch and placed it on the floor, opening it as wide as he could. He saw make-up, a wallet, some paper tissues, some strange white plastic tubes, and a hairbrush... Billy hoped to spy an actual snack before the smiting but found nothing of interest among clutter. The kitten quickly dropped his pants and squatted over the designer bag. His tail sticking straight up and twitching as he pushed out as hard as he could, just for maximum splatter! Like a gunshot a loud fart echoed through the room. So loud the vixen might still possibly have heard over her own bitch-fest. Shit. But Billy stood firm and pushed a little more... in for a penny in for a pound, as they say. And with the wet, staccato sounds of a ketchup bottle coughing up it's last dollops of payload, Billed let rip into the bag some more. It was over in less than a minute though as he had to relieve himself pretty bad to begin with. Quickly and without any attempts at wiping himself he pulled his pajama pants back up and scurried back to his bedroom without even once glancing back to admire his handiwork.\n\nThe phone call with Billy's dad left Hilda emotionally drained. She implored him to come home from wherever he was, right now, to deal with his child. However peeling him away from his business or pleasure was nigh impossible. She wanted to leave, feeling quite uncomfortable in their home right now, yet she didn't want to leave the troubled boy alone. He was really too young to ever be left by himself for any real length of time, but that shipped had sailed practically as soon as Janet left the family. The kitten was obviously troubled and in need of professional guidance.\n\nAs Hilda stepped into the hallway with broom in paw to clean up the broken glass, she suddenly found her nose assaulted with a vile odor. It was so foul she was certain the sewer line must've backed up into the house! Dreading what she might find, Hilda was about to check the bathroom... as if she needed anymore drama this evening. But the vixen quickly realized the reek was emanating from the opposite end of the hall. It seemed to be coming from... the living room? What the hell was going on in this house tonight?!\n\nHilda took two steps into the room and froze, speechless and disgusted. The smell stopped her in her tracks as if it were a physical wall of stench! Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes and she choked back a sudden wave of vomit as she spotted 'ground zero'. Their, in the center of the room was her precious white leather bag! An antique passed down from her mother.... and it was brimming with excrement! Runny, chunky, soupy, shit filled it to the top. A couple solid logs floating on top, one drooped over the side onto the carpet like a goopy tentacle. “Ugh... savage... savage boy! WHOOOOWAAAaaaAAAaaaarrrfff!!!” she struggled to say and found herself hurling instead. She could hear Billy laughing hysterically in the hallway, and she was ready to take him over her knee, legalities be damned! But instead found herself suddenly seized by a pounding migraine! So she merely shuffled past Billy, who was still cackling away, and locked herself in the bathroom to collect herself. “Fuck....” she growled out loud as realized she needed to call that asshole back now.\n\nHilda quit her job that night. No money was worth this shit. \n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "
BIG BELLY BILLY
Chapter Four:  Shit In a Bag
---------------------
November, 1993


It's been a couple months since the blowout at the changing booth.  Dad was royally pissed when he saw what his boy had been doing to himself.  He had seized the little glutton by the collar of his shirt, and quietly, angrily seethed... “Two hundred pounds?  No... I'm sorry... Two hundred and EIGHT fucking pounds?!  William, I'm a grown adult cat and even I don't weigh that much!  How?  How could you let this happen?  I swear, it's like you did this on purpose!  Is that it?  Do you have a fucking eating disorder or something?”  Billy knew he was in for it when even dad called him 'William'.

Billy was in tears.  He couldn't even speak.  He knew this day was coming, but still... he'd never seen his old man this angry in his life.  Hell, he'd barely seen his dad show any real emotion ever, other than the misery he wallowed in after mom ran out.  The entire car ride home his father went on and on about the 'Dangers of obesity!' and how he 'Can expect some big changes around here!'.  Billy just sat, quietly sobbing in the back seat, cradling his precious belly whenever his dad was giving him the angry-glare in the rear view mirror.

And change things certainly did!  Dad had hired on Hilda for more time to oversee the boy on weekends and most evenings of the school week.  This was mostly to monitor his meals.  She was instructed to periodically sweep his room for hidden contraband treats.  Hilda dropped him off at school every morning, and picked him up most days too.  Some days dad was there to personally escort the child.  It was like prison!

School was certainly no picnic either.  It wasn't enough the lunch lady and the school nurse received written instructions to monitor his eating.  But the torment from the other cubs at school was unrelenting as well.  Billy was never popular to begin with, and he didn't yet understand how cruel other children tended to be towards 'the fat kid' until he became one himself.  He was fine through kindergarten and the first grade when he was slender, and awkward thus mostly ignored.  In fact, Billy liked be left alone to enjoy reading his comic books or doodle pictures in his notebooks... and a little later to munch on snacks by himself so he wasn't expected to share.  But now everywhere he turned he had to be on the look out lest he get tripped, wedgied, or aggressively have his belly poked while the other boys would chant “Big Belly Billy, Big Belly Billy” over and over again.  The gym coach, a graying leopard with the unfortunate name Mr. Diddlefinger, even seemed to encourage the behavior.  And when Billy would cry to his father about his day Eric simply responded that it was okay because it would help Billy really learn his lesson.

Billy knew better than to tell anyone he wanted to be fat.  It seemed such a wondrous and fantastical thing to him, but somehow caused extreme disgust in others.  His mother's occasional phone calls from overseas even ceased once Eric told her what happened to their boy.  Eric certainly didn't hide his joy in sending her a series of polaroids he'd taken of Billy's obese body the same afternoon of the booth incident, enclosed with note telling her she did this to him, it was her fault for 'wantonly abandoning her maternal duties'.  He knew his soon-to-finally-be-ex-wife must've had an aneurysm knowing that her sweet little William had become an insatiable glutton practically as soon as she left.

His birthday was was only a couple weeks after that day, and he didn't even get a cake.  Not even a cupcake!  Dad didn't even come home that weekend.  But he made sure Hilda was at the homestead to watch after his obese kitten.  The only present Billy received for his ninth birthday was a treadmill with an excruciatingly generic birthday card attached, signed by his dad with the simple note inside 'Happy birthday fatboy.  This is the only gift you've earned, now use it.'  Billy hated immediately despised the contraption.  And Hilda did indeed make him get on it and go.  It was some of the worst torture in Billy's young life.  Worse than his cruel classmates.  Somehow even worse than Mr. Diddlefinger making him do jumping jacks and crack wise about his jiggling body to the entire class!  But Billy did have one small success in the days following his birthday when he 'accidentally' spilled a water bottle onto the monstrosity and shorted it out.  Dad hadn't bothered to spend money replacing it either.  Not yet anyway.  Billy shuddered to think what kind of disappointments Santa Claws yet had in store for him.

The cub was miserable.  Helpless and watching his prized belly start to melt away seemed somehow far more upsetting than his mother leaving the family.  All his hard work on those glorious summer days, stuffing himself silly until he'd practically doubled his starting weight, swelling up with blubber by the day.  It just seemed like a bittersweet dream now as he looked down at his shrinking body.  He didn't even want to get on the scale anymore... something that previously brought him much so much pride and joy.  Now his dad had to force him onto it every Saturday morning.... 208 became 192.  185 melted into 173.  173 backslid into 167.  It was horrifying!  And here he was, a mere 152lb shadow of his former girth, with no end to the forced diet in sight.  Sure, he was still quite plump by any other fur's standards.  But Billy knew this was not himself.  He felt caged and cheated as the pounds continued to slip away from him.  

At one point Billy had even tried to stop himself from shitting as a desperate, misguided attempt to make the most of the small amount of calories he was currently taking in.  It was easier said than done of course.  All that roughage did nothing but make him need to poop even more!  This was extremely uncomfortable but still, with seemingly no other options left he was determined to try.

However It was a short lived experiment that came to an abrupt and inevitably messy end.  Billy held on best he could... until that one dreadful afternoon in gym class when Mr. Diddlefinger was once gain forcing him to do sit-ups.  Billy was crying, sweating profusely, and clenching his little pucker for dear life all the while straining to do his eighth sit-up of the thirty the coach was demanding of him.  Three entire days of withheld waste without a single trip to the bowl except to piss was a lot of pressure for the young kitten to be carrying.  Even just merely walking was a risky gamble at this point!  And he tried to play sick and get out of gym, but the coach simply wouldn't hear of it.  In the end, nature took over and made the decision for Billy as his poor little bowels exploded a torrent of chunky, vile smelling diarrhea for all his classmates to see!  And even more unfortunately, smell!  It was running down his legs from under his shorts.  Dribbling onto the floor, leaving a rancid trail of doo-doo butter as he cried the entire trip to the nurses office.  Echoes of 'Big Belly Billy' and 'Fatboy shit his pants!' haunting his walk of shame every humiliating step.  And to add insult to injury his dad had been called in to come pick him early.  The poor kitten never felt so defeated in his life as when he sat in the back seat of the car on a pile of towels, stewing in his own mess while his dad drove recklessly fast with all the windows down.  For once he actually couldn't wait to take a shower.  All the while his dad mumbling about 'what the fuck was wrong with him' and 'did mom really mess you up this bad?'

And that's how things wound up here... sitting at the dining room table, a plate full of disappointment staring back at him.  And the cold gaze of the vixen across from him.  “Billy... we're not leaving the table until you eat your vegetables.  Don't you want to finish up in time to watch your Arachno-Man cartoon?”

Billy just sat and pouted.  His silence the only response to the housekeeper.  Hilda felt bad for the cub.  Sure she was only following Erics instructions.  Nonetheless, she felt bad for him too.  She knew he hated the foods he's being forced to eat.  She suddenly felt a wave of guilt, realizing that perhaps eating her meatloaf in front of the boy wasn't helping the situation, even if the kitten was desperately in need of learning some self control.  A fact she understood this months ago, but it wasn't her place to say, and Eric didn't seem to care at the time as the kid just kept growing fatter and fatter.  His father certainly should have put his foot down a lot sooner.  Hilda understood most cats were flexible enough to lick their own tailholes, but she had no idea how he managed to shove his head so far up his own ass for so long.  Nonetheless, he was paying her well, and she definitely needed the work.  And while she understood this forced diet was in the child's best interest, she did take some pity on him, and got up from the table to tuck the rest of her dinner away in the fridge for later.  Their was a lock on the fridge now as well, and only she and Eric knew the combination.  Slight scratches and claw marks on the door and the lock where Billy desperately tried to gain access as though he was starving.  The kid really needed help and his father simply didn't have the emotional capacity to give Billy the guidance he so obviously and desperately needed.

“It's not fair, y'know” the little chubby kitten mumbled angrily.  He looked like he was about to cry again, and Hilda's heart sank.

“Little one, please listen... I know your father, he is harsh with you.  He is stubborn, just like you... but he does love you, even if he bad at showing it.  Every father wants his child to have a long, healthy life.  Your life will be miserable if you cannot even move your own body off of the couch, I promise you.”  Hilda took a soft tone with the boy, trying to reason with him the way his parents should have been doing all along.

“Yeah?!  But I'm HAPPY on the couch!  I'm happy when I'm eating!  Why is it being taken away from me?!  Mom went away, dad's always away!  They get to do what makes THEM happy, but I'm not allowed to do what makes ME happy and it's not fucking fair!”  Billy shouted in a tearful outburst.

“Language little one!  I will let that f-word slide this one time because I know you are upset.  Now, please, settle down and listen to Hilda... I know you cannot understand now, but we are all looking out for you, child.”  Hilda stepped over to his chair, moving in to give Billy a hug.  When was the last time anyone even hugged the boy?  No wonder he was so turned around.

“Keep your goddamn paws off me!” he squealed, jumping up from the chair and flipping his plate of vegetables onto the floor  Hilda's heart ached even more for the boy, but he couldn't be excused such behavior, even if she understood his frustration.

“Billy... one more swear from you, and I will have to wash your mouth out with soap.”  she replied gently.  “Come, sit back down, please...”

“Uh-uh!  Go ahead!  Shove soap in my mouth!  It'll taste better than this leafy crap your making me eat!” he raged, than just as suddenly hung his head, his little body shuddering as he started to cry again.  “I.... I didn't even get any cake for my birthday.  Not even then!  Mom doesn't care, dad doesn't care, so why should you care?  Nobody really cares about what I want... they just want me to be there 'perfect little kitten'... and I hate it.  I hate them, I hate you, I hate school, I hate everyone!” he sobbed.  His facial fur was drenched with tears as he looked down at the floor and his shrinking belly, once so proud, and big!  Now, he was actually able to look down and easily see his toes!  “I.... I even hate myself now!”

Billy started angrily marching towards his bedroom,  Hilda tried to grab for his arm and pull him in for a hug he desperately needed even if he didn't know it.  But the kid just brushed her angrily and kept marching towards his room, slamming the door behind him as hard as he could.  “Billy, please... you must not say such hurtful things.  It is just your anger talking right now.” she spoke softly to the door, just loud enough the kitten could hear her.

“Leave me alone!  You don't understand at all!  You helped do this to me!  Your helping dad do this to me!  I'm sick if it!” the poor kid was hysterical now.  Hilda has never seen him so upset, and she desperately wanted to make it better for him.

“Billy, would you calm down and listen if I shared some cookies with you?  I know it's not the birthday cake you might be wishing for, but...” the door cracked open a little before she could finish and Billy was peering at her from the crack with the look of desperate longing in his clear blue eyes.

“Y.... y-you really mean it?  No tricks?”

“No tricks, Billy.  I promise you some cookies, but only a few!  And only if you promise to come back out and help me clean up the mess you made in the dining room first.  I won't even tell your father.  Do we have a deal?”

Slowly the door crept open some more.  Billy stood there, his tears had abated as his tantrum fast ran out of steam at the mere mention of cookies.  Delicious cookies!  Billy hadn't had a single cookie in weeks!  Even just a few would be a godsend to him right now!  “Okaaaaaaaay... deal.  But you better not be lying to me.”  the kid threatened half heartedly... their wasn't much he could do otherwise, even if it was some kind of trick.  But Hilda has never lied to him before and he knew that.  Even if she had followed along with his fathers meal plan, in all the months since she's been around, she'd always at least seemed honest.  And despite it all, even those stupid bowls of fruit, Billy did kind of like her.  She at least treated him like a being with actual feelings, and not merely as some kind of possession or status symbol as his own parents seemed to relegate him to.

Over the next half hour Billy quietly helped Hilda clean up the floor.  At least the good thing about it not being some delicious pasta... or mac and' cheese, oh he so missed mac and cheese! .. .it made for a relatively easy mess to clean up.  Nonetheless he made a point of fumbling along slowly so that the vixen wound up doing most of the work.  Than as promised she sat down on the couch with him and found a cartoon that he liked to watch.  But he barely paid attention to the TV as he watched Hilda dig into the large, fancy white leather carry bag she always brought along with her.  He watched in the way a lion would, waiting for the moment to pounce it's prey... Holy shitballs!  She really is breaking out a box of cookies!  Finally after so long, some real fucking food!  Billy was elated as he watched the carton appear from the bag as if time was going in slow motion.  His thingy was even feeling that fun tingly-feeling for the first time in weeks!  Watching as the box label revealed itself... oh what kind, what kind, what kind!  Chocolate chip, oh fuck yes, his favorite!  But something seemed off.  These didn't look like the light blue of his favorite brand, Chip's Aplenty.  This package was green.  Some other brand it seemed.  Okay... Billy wasn't going to be picky.  He was just excited for cookies!

Until he saw what the brand name in fact was...

Waist Always Fat Free Cookies?!  They were a goddamn lie after all!  How dare she!  Fucking fat free!?  Billy's face quickly shifted from a toothy, hungry grin into a hateful scowl as he hissed at the white fox.  Hilda recoiled in shock  “Billy... are... are you okay?  What is wrong, little one?”

As if she didn't know.  How dare she trick him!  “Fuck you Hilda!  Fuck your fucking bullshit cookies to fucking hell!” Billy yelled and slapped the box out of her paws onto the floor before jumping off the couch.  Clearly already losing his breath as he marched off to the safety of his room, stomping his feet-paws the whole way.  The kitten slammed his bedroom door shut so violently it shook the walls.  A painting of some painfully generic waterfront landscape fell off the wall.  Alongside it came a framed family picture of a younger, slender Billy together with both his parents the Christmas right before his mother left them for good.  The glass in the frame shattered allover the hardwood floor of the hallway.

“Billy?!  Has the devil gotten into you child!”  Hilda shouted.  It was actually the first time Billy ever heard the vixen truly raise her voice... her Swedish accent became very apparent when she yelled.  “I am calling your father this instant!”

Moments later Billy could hear Hilda on the phone in the kitchen ranting away to his father, sounding both angry and very upset as she described the boy's violent fit.  Cautiously opening his door he peeked his head out to listen.  “...I am only trying to help him, but he just lashes out for seemingly no reason!  I do not know how much more....”

No reason?  Did she truly not understand what she did?  Billy just didn't buy it.  He gave Hilda a chance, actually wanted to trust her... but now he just wanted to repay her betrayal.  Maybe if he could scare her off he'd get some of his evenings back to himself?  Not as if dad would ever make time for him every single night of the week.  And forget about weekends.  Maybe this could could buy him some alone time.  Maybe he could finally find a way to start fattening himself back up again?  He'd even gladly accept candy from strangers in the park everyone warned him about!  Who knows, maybe one of those fabled strangers with candy would take him away from this miserable life and give him a new one where he was constantly fed treats and became a massive ball of pudge who couldn't even walk anymore!  Billy's weeny started to stiffen up again as he imagined this... he knew that meant he must be especially hungry!  And his tummy was gurgling like crazy.  But... wait.  It wasn't just hunger pangs he was feeling.  Billy knew this churning feeling from his experiment last week.  When he held his poo poo in for too long it started to hurt just like this, and that meant he really should go to the bathroom.

But what if he went to the bathroom... someplace else?  What if he left Hilda a very special 'thank you' for the would be cookies?  Billy started to giggle to himself and had to clasp his paw against his face to help stifle the noise.  He didn't want to give himself away, but he also couldn't stop cackling away like a goblin over the stunt he was about to attempt.  

Slowly creeping his way down the hall, back into the living room, Billy kept his ears sharp for the conversation in the kitchen.  It wasn't exactly hard to hear Hilda still all worked up on the phone, and this told Billy he still had time.  Silently creeping along as only a cat could, he made his way to his mark.  Hilda's fancy leather bag was still on the couch, it's contents spilled out slightly from the incident just moments earlier.  Billy quickly snatched it off the couch and placed it on the floor, opening it as wide as he could.  He saw make-up, a wallet, some paper tissues, some strange white plastic tubes, and a hairbrush... Billy hoped to spy an actual snack before the smiting but found nothing of interest among clutter.  The kitten quickly dropped his pants and squatted over the designer bag.  His tail sticking straight up and twitching as he pushed out as hard as he could, just for maximum splatter!  Like a gunshot a loud fart echoed through the room.  So loud the vixen might still possibly have heard over her own bitch-fest.  Shit.  But Billy stood firm and pushed a little more... in for a penny in for a pound, as they say.  And with the wet, staccato sounds of a ketchup bottle coughing up it's last dollops of payload, Billed let rip into the bag some more.  It was over in less than a minute though as he had to relieve himself pretty bad to begin with.  Quickly and without any attempts at wiping himself he pulled his pajama pants back up and scurried back to his bedroom without even once glancing back to admire his handiwork.

The phone call with Billy's dad left Hilda emotionally drained.  She implored him to come home from wherever he was, right now, to deal with his child.  However peeling him away from his business or pleasure was nigh impossible.  She wanted to leave, feeling quite uncomfortable in their home right now, yet she didn't want to leave the troubled boy alone.  He was really too young to ever be left by himself for any real length of time, but that shipped had sailed practically as soon as Janet left the family.  The kitten was obviously troubled and in need of professional guidance.

As Hilda stepped into the hallway with broom in paw to clean up the broken glass, she suddenly found her nose assaulted with a vile odor.  It was so foul she was certain the sewer line must've backed up into the house!  Dreading what she might find, Hilda was about to check the bathroom... as if she needed anymore drama this evening.  But the vixen quickly realized the reek was emanating from the opposite end of the hall.  It seemed to be coming from... the living room?  What the hell was going on in this house tonight?!

Hilda took two steps into the room and froze, speechless and disgusted.  The smell stopped her in her tracks as if it were a physical wall of stench!  Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes and she choked back a sudden wave of vomit as she spotted 'ground zero'.  Their, in the center of the room was her precious white leather bag!  An antique passed down from her mother.... and it was brimming with excrement!  Runny, chunky, soupy, shit filled it to the top.  A couple solid logs floating on top, one drooped over the side onto the carpet like a goopy tentacle.  “Ugh... savage... savage boy! WHOOOOWAAAaaaAAAaaaarrrfff!!!” she struggled to say and found herself hurling instead.  She could hear Billy laughing hysterically in the hallway, and she was ready to take him over her knee, legalities be damned!  But instead found herself suddenly seized by a pounding migraine!  So she merely shuffled past Billy, who was still cackling away, and locked herself in the bathroom to collect herself.  “Fuck....” she growled out loud as realized she needed to call that asshole back now.

Hilda quit her job that night.  No money was worth this shit.  

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