Weight Watchers

Del Shatner arrived home from Weight Watchers feeling like a new man. He put down his bag and started lighting the scented candles scattered around his flat. There were quite a few vanilla nose quakes to spark up, around thirty at his last count. Del caught sight of himself in the large floor to ceiling mirror where the fireplace used to be. He was a slightly chubby, although not fat, man in his early fifties. He turned his back to the mirror and ran a hand over his arse, barely contained in the tight embrace of the grey lycra yoga pants.

This had been the first year out of the last five that Del had refused to go hunting wild boar on the French island of Corsica in the Mediterranean.

He had ended up having a furious row with his best mate about it. The truth was he was desperately trying to seek approval from the lady that ran his Weight Watchers Group: Tabitha Khan, and when she described his past pig hunting to him as "deluded macho bollocks" he knew that he'd made his last trip with Frank his mate. It was a shame really as the island of Corsica was dangerously beautiful and killing the boars usually with a baseball bat covered in six inch nails, was a powerful release of energy or moment of catharsis if you prefer.

Del slumped down on the sofa and started thinking about the Anglo Indian goddess that was Tabitha Khan. The tiny flames of the candles flickered like a pagan ceremony as he started to caress the front of his Primark yoga pants. He fought the urge to explode and went over to his laptop to put some music on. He had deliberately deleted all the once heavy and violent music that he used to enjoy. Tabitha once told him after coffee as they walked to their cars that real men were gentle and liked music that calmed the beast inside, nothing heavy.

Del selected 

The Lighthouse Family and felt immediate warmth from it's well produced sounds about an inclusive humanity that only experienced love . He made his way over to the mirror again. He looked and imagined Tabitha on her knees in front of him schlurping on his Viagra-less throbbing gristle all the way to nirvana No! Too soon!

He went to the bedroom and put his Weight Watchers stuff away.

As he looked at the collection of boars tusks hung up on his bed board Del started to reminisce about his mate Frank and the blood soaked, wine and coke driven hunts beneath the Mediterranean sun. Frank had got really fat lately and he'd heard mutual friends refer to his old mate as a "gammon" or an English knuckle dragger from another era. Instead of coming to his old mates rescue at such times Del had laughed along secretly pleased that he himself had never let himself go in such a way. It was as if his old mates many good qualities became obscured from view at these times behind his big belly and copius piles of flesh.

What usually happened after three or four weeks hunting in Corsica was the weight would just drop off. After swinging the club at the wild pigs heads and rolling around in the beige dust trying to stick a knife into the enraged animals necks, the pair would normally return to Edinburgh looking more like wolves than domesticated farm animals.

When Del had tried to explain this to Tabitha she had immediately shut him down and then she had proceeded to stare flirtatiously at the guy working in the coffee shop until he'd fallen back into line.

What could he do?

He didn't want to end his.days.fat and alone frequenting hookers and street trash like his mate Frank. He wanted to be a part of a loving relationship, reaching for the stars! 

And if that required a degree of compromise on his part then so be it!

Celine Dion was now playing and Del let out a weary.sigh.

Tabitha had wrapped her hand in his outside Weight Watchers when Del told her that he had cancelled the hunting trip with Frank.

Tabitha hated Frank and never let an opportunity go by where she might score some points humiliating him in his absence. The way he spoke, his.lack of finesse, all the scars on his body. She would cruelly pretend to be Frankenstein and they would both.crease up laughing. Del knew he was selling out his old mate just to get his dick wet but he didn't care. He would tell himself 

"this is the way of the world!"

Michael Bolton was now playing from the laptop.

Del went to the large mirror and started carressing his own arse. As the highly produced warbling reached it's climax Del felt like a housewife in his yoga pants who needed a good seeing to. He.was no longer male. He imagined Frank in the room putting a dog collar on him and dragging him to the floor. He then rubbed his dirty clunking boot on to the smaller man's face.

As this exercise in degradation manifested and sent Del Shatner s newly found sophistication speeding back to the caves. His phone rang. It was his beloved Tabitha.

She was crying hysterically. 

She was in the hospital. 

She had been raped.