Harry Leland rolled his eyes and smirked "Oh, yes. Perish forbid that anyone forgets how important 'Emmet Frost' is to the Hellfire Club." he said with a voice dripping with disdain. "You'd do well to remember that the club was here long before you were, and will continue long after you're gone. Now if you'll excuse me...the Black Queen has requested my personal service."

 

    And with that, the obese Black Rook waddled to the Black Queen's side, his sumptuous body quaking as he moved. Harry Leland wasn't nearly as fat as the Black Queen, but he was still quite substantial. Dressed in his skintight 1700's style garments, his massive and perfect buttocks swayed and bounced in time with his mincing steps, much like his full, round belly. Obviously Stefanie had an appreciation for a fellow gourmand, and the two talked like old friends. Emma (wait...had Harry called her 'Emmet'?) watched with understandable jealousy as the two began to 'bond' over some discussion about food or something, and Harry called over a waiter. He selected a platter of caviar hors d'oeuvres, and soon...he was feeding them one after another to the Black Queen.

 

   Wait...that wasn't right. Was it? Harry was very fat, and Stefanie was very fat, and they had so much in common...yet all the really had in common was a love of food. 

 

   Harry blushed, obviously being flattered by the Black Queen's attentions. Emmet (no) watched as Harry gestured with one plump, pursy hand - long nails manicured and painted a bright red, as his fat fingers selected a caviar toastpoint - and (s)he glowered as Harry popped a morsel into her mouth. He was dwarfed by her enormity that he almost seemed to shrink before her. Why, from here...one might assume that Harry Leland was no taller that 4 and a half feet. From here, Harry looked so proper and perfect and just so squeezed into his beautiful, skimpy French Maids uniform. Her thick legs so perfect in fishnets and six-inch heels. His imposing belly supporting full, fat tits that wiggled invitingly in the cups of his uniform. 

 

   So fat he had big, bouncing 'moobs' like any obese boy.

 

   She leaned down and kissed the big yet small sissyboy and kissed him on the cheek with a smile. Harry was obviously choking back tears as he beamed with delight. She waved him away, and Harry waddled towards E...Emma...Emma/Emmet with a superior smile and a saucy glint in his eyes. His round, moon of a face was pale, painted and perfect. Thick, sexy red lips. Sultry, half-lidded eyes. His long, red hair done up in such a cute style that perfectly flaunted his face. He was just so...lucky.

 

    "Well, honey..." Harry said with a twinge of false modesty. "...the Black Queen's just the most relatable person. Not my type, you know...Harry loves the hunks...but for a lady, she's aces in my book. She even told me I was her favorite lil' boi. How's THAT for prestige, hm? Now if you'll excuse me...I've got to snatch another platter of treats and get back by her side. Work's never done, after all."

 

   And with that, the obese little sissy took his place beside the Black Queen - his skimpy, sexy French Maids uniform flaunting his rotund body. Emma (who certainly thought Emmet was at least a very cute name) watched as he moved easily around Sam, acting in sympatico as they hovered and fussed with the Black Queen.  

 

    Oh, if only she could find a way to...kick the Black Queen from the club. She...he looked over at Sebastian Shaw and knew that he'd be yet another rival for the Black Queen's attentions...if she couldn't drive the Black Queen from the Hellfire Club. 

 

   She felt a twitch in her...penis? Clit? Her groin? It was confusing, but distracting, so she stuck his hands down her panties/speedos and rearranged his...dick? A small, silly little thing, really. So dismissible, no wonder he forgot she was a...Boy? Girl?

 

   Emma shook her head, casting the shadows away. The sight of fat, slutty Harry Leland posing in his fetishized 'French Maids' uniform as he chatted and gossiped with the Black Queen. His full, chair-filling rump wobbling as he posed and preened like a schoolgirl on the make.

 

   Lucky Bastard. Emma would show them. Show them who was the REAL White...Prince?