Puts on the bikini

The bathroom was cold and sterile, the harsh fluorescent lights casting an eerie glow on the tiles. She stripped off her clothes, feeling exposed before she stepped into the bikini. The tiny two piece felt extremely tight and tiny over her body. The top barely contained her small mounds, the fabric straining over her tiny mounds. The bottoms were too small, the fabric biting into her hips, showcasing every dimple and roll of her meaty backside. It was a far cry from the elegant corset she'd worn to the photoshoot.

With a deep breath, May stepped out of the bathroom, trying to channel the fierceness she'd seen in her favorite horror movie heroines. But the look on the tattoo parlor owner's face told her she'd failed. He sighed heavily, his gaze raking over her body with disappointment. The crowd around the booth was a sea of judgment, their eyes flicking from her tiny breasts to her large ass and back again. She felt like a circus act, a freak show that no one had paid to see.

The whispers began almost immediately, a murmur that grew into a cacophony. She heard snickers and snide comments about her body, her tattoos, her very presence.

"Look at her, trying to be a model without the goods!" one voice called out, and others followed suit, their words a symphony of ridicule. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she refused to let them see her cry. Instead, she **** a smile, a twisted grimace that she hoped would pass for confidence.