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Selective Side-Effects


Chickenshack

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“North Arlington Research and Nutritional Laboratories.” I looked up at the large, imposing and fancily adorned sign that sat atop the gates in front of me. Then I looked back at the flyer in my hand.”This is the place,” I sighed.

Seeing a buzzer on the gate, I pressed it and waited.

“Hello?” A voice crackled through a speaker attached to the buzzer. “Please state your name and purpose.”

“Umm, my name is Jamie- err, James Byers and I’m here about the paid study? I held up the flyer I was holding to the buzzer as if the voice could see it. “For the food tasting? Or something.”

Ok, the truth is that I was not entirely sure what I was about to sign up for; I had lost my job just in time for summer, and was pretty strapped for cash at the moment. A paid work study right across town? It seemed worth checking out.

“One moment, please,” the voice crackled once more, before the gates slowly parted automatically. “Please make your way to the front desk.”

I began striding to what looked like the main building to me. The sheer size of the entire compound was impressive. As I made my way toward a large and imposing set of revolving doors, I steeled myself and pushed my way through.

Well, the lobby was nothing too special. It looked like the waiting room for any typical hospital, only quite a bit bigger. I expected to see rows of patients, people bustling by in sterile lab coats, anything. But the whole place was eerily empty save for one woman behind a desk.

Not knowing where else to go, I made my way to her with my flyer in hand.

The woman was thin, middle-aged and had a look of such passive disinterest it made me wonder if the place was usually this empty.

“You’re here for Dr. Cowley’s work study?” she more told me than asked me.

Dr. Cowley… Yes, that was the name on the flyer. I nodded, smiling weakly. The smile was not returned.

The woman procured and handed me a green key card. “Lab 227,” she said. “Classified.”

"Classified?" I asked, "Um, w-what's in it?" I shifted nervously on my feet.

The woman stared blankly at me, her face unmoving and her expression cold.

"Oh. So that means it's really classified, huh?" I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. The woman, clearly in no mood for conversation, handed me a key card and pointed towards a door. "Thank you," I muttered quickly, and started in its direction.

'Awfully warm reception,' I thought to myself as I swiped my card and crossed through the door into a long corridor. I walked down slowly, not really knowing where to go except forward toward a large, very wide set of double doors with a sign over them that read, "Lab No. 227 Main Operational Facility".

That seemed like a good enough indicator to me.

Sighing and bracing myself for whatever may come next, I pushed against the double door and entered Lab 227 in earnest, not knowing what to expect.

What I immediately encountered was a woman looking up at me from a clipboard.

“Oh Hi!” the woman stood and turned to greet me with a smile. “I’m Dr. Cowley, but you can call me Miranda.”

Woof. Talk about a contrast from the lady up front. Dr. Cowley didn’t fit my bill of a typical scientist. Not only was she young, probably in her late 20’s compared to my early 20’s, but she was remarkably gorgeous. She was a few inches taller than me and quite a bit on the heavy side, but she wore her curves incredibly well at her size and the light blue blouse that she was wearing hugged the outline of her rather large breasts before tapering in above the waist. She had a bit of a belly on her, sure, but I wasn’t shy about having an attraction to girls who were a bit bigger. Especially given the set of extra-wide hips that that belly was resting on… I suddenly had a curious longing to see a view of my new boss from the back, but for now I did my very best to keep my eyes firmly glued to her face. She had her hair worn up, meaning I could see her soft, tan cheeks, plump and fuller than most women’s. In between her cheeks rested a jovial smile with dazzlingly white teeth. The smile pushed her chin into a second one especially as she had to look down in order to speak with me.

I realized that I had been staring. No, it was obvious that I had been staring.

“I’m umm, James but I go by Jamie,” I finally managed to spit out.

“Great!” Miranda clapped her chubby hands together enthusiastically, sending her upper arms jiggling even through her coat. “I’m so excited to have you on board for my study!” She jostled toward me and shook my hand.”You look confused, but you’re in the right place.”

“Umm right,” I began, trying to recall anything else I had read in the flyer that I had, at this point, callously and carelessly folded and shoved in my pocket. “Taste testing for a nutritional supplement?”

“Something like that, yes,” she perked up. “Its a highly condensed nutrient paste comprised of reconstituted fats and dietary supplements!” For the first time since I’d entered the room, I finally felt like I was conversing with a scientist. The fluidity with which she spoke her nutrition jargon gave a strong impression of someone with years of expertise in their field.

“Its intended as a solution to world hunger,” she continued, beaming. “Highly compacted nutrient pastes that we can fly into impoverished countries. I’m calling it Chemical 9! Umm for now,” she finished with a giggle.

At least until she could find something more appealing, I hoped. “So its a chemical? Is it really safe for people to eat?”

“O-of course it is!” she responded. I noticed that she broke eye contact when she said this to me, as if there was something more to tell. “Its intended to help people, Jamie. All we have to do is get through the human testing phase, and-”

“Wait,” I said, startled, “am I going to be the first ever human to ever try this stuff?”

“Oh no, far from it! You’ll be working with a team of testers!”

"I will?" I said apprehensively. "How many other people will I be meeting?"

Miranda turned to me and smiled, "There's nothing to be so nervous about, Jamie,” she said reassuringly, "They're all about your age, if that makes you feel any better." She turned around and began moving towards a pair of double doors at the far end of the room. "Lab 227 has its own personal break room, we like to review data and itinerary in the mornings. Come."

Still nervous but all too eager to stare at the swaying backside of my buxom boss, I eagerly began after her, taking note of the odd equipment scattered on each table as I passed by. Or the curious fact that none of the lab chairs had armrests, even though some had clearly arrived with them attached and looked to have had them removed.

Moving through the double doors, we entered another long corridor. Gosh, how big was this place? Was all of this just Lab 227? Coming to another set of double doors, Dr. Cowley looked over her shoulder and smiled. She was panting but only lightly and her face was light with perspiration.

"So are you ready to meet your colleagues, Jamie?” And without waiting for an answer, she pushed both doors wide open and gestured me through.

I gulped, smiled and strode as confidently as I could through the doorway.

The room was... cozy looking, I guess. It was fairly spacious, with a row of windows taking up the entirety of the far wall and a few bulletin boards occupying the walls adjacent. Someone had thought to lay a vastly undersized shag carpet across the middle of the hard-tiled floor, and on that rug was a sturdy metal table. A table covered in pastries.

There were bear claws, large slices of cake, cupcakes, pies, and all of it looked to be topped with a very thick icing or some sort of custard or... no. It was Chemical 9. All of the break room snacks appears to be liberally smeared with, dipped in or drenched by the whitish goop I was expected to eat. Maybe this was how my other colleagues got accustomed to it?

Speaking of my other colleagues, with all the new sights and sounds and smells (especially smells) I was quickly being introduced to, they were almost easy to miss. Of course, they were all seated right there at the table and, with more than a second to drink them in, I didn't see how ANY of them could be hard to miss. Seated at the table before me, chowing down on the substance-soaked confections on the table, were six of the most attractive young women I had ever seen.

It was all I could do to keep my mouth from dropping.

“Jamie,” Miranda said strutting over to the table and plucking a glazed from one of the numerous plates still piled high with confectionary treats, "meet your new team. Team, meet Jamie!”

The Dr. had been right when she said that all my other colleagues were right around my age. She had certainly been wrong, though, when she had told me I had no need to be nervous.

Each one of the girls before me was stunning, absolutely beautiful in fact. To be fair, they were all pretty chubby too, with a couple of them appearing downright fat. With the way the long steel table was put together, actually two tables put together it seemed, I could only see the six of them from the sternum up, but damn. There was a gorgeous tan blonde girl with sparkling green eyes, a sultry girl with a pale complexion that contrasted alluringly with her raven hair and almond-shaped, black eyes. There was a brunette with short, curly hair and round, chubby cheeks who looked to be one of the heavier of the girls, if the way her jutting belly was cutting into the table was any indication.

I was greeted with many an enthusiastic hello, several smiles, even a wink or two. I managed to wave back meekly, uttering a weak hello that elicited a few giggles. It was a lot to take in all at once.

"Girls, why don't you all get up and introduce yourselves?" Miranda asked, a bit of prodding in her tone. At this, a lot of the smiles faltered. A few of the girls looked at each other sheepishly, all suddenly seeming genuinely uneasy. The sultry raven-haired girl spoke up first.

"Anne, I just, um, I'm glued to my seats right now." Did she say "seats"? It was easy to miss when I was distracted by the light, wispy tambour of her voice.

"Yea," a thin-faced Spanish girl with braids near the other end of the table piped in, "you didn't tell anybody you were bringing a guy in today." She blushed and looked down, biting into another slice of the lemon meringue she had been enjoying when I had first come in.

"Guys!" Miranda proclaimed, a hint of impatience in her voice. “Jamie is here to be one of our fellow employees, he's going to get a look a all of you eventually." All of the girls looked alarmed at this, some even audibly moaned.

Miranda seemed to realize at once that she had been just a little too harsh with that one and tried to recover. "What I mean is," she quickly corrected, clearing her throat, "being acclimated with your um, 'conditions', will help Jamie in understanding his niche in our controlled experiment."

"Blubluh bluh bluh 'science!' bubluh ," the tan blonde girl muttered under her breathe, sending a chuckle through the room.

"Or how about I just have Jamie walk to the other side of the table?"

"No!" the blonde girl wailed, "that's not funny."

"You promised nobody would tease us," said the raven-haired girl, now anxiously twirling her onyx tresses.

"Oh relax everybody." Miranda was gently tugging me by the arm now, guiding me toward the other side of the room. More audible groans and several of the girls' eyes were transfixed on the plates in front of them, refusing to make any sort of eye contact. "I swear, sometimes you guys are just so vain..."

It's not like every girl there didn't have a right to be vain. Sure, all of them were either a little chubby or just all-around fat, but as I walked around the table I noticed all of them had full busts, plump lips, full, chubby cheeks and practically model-esque features. Sure, none of them were thin but only the curly-haired brunette and the tan, green-eyed blonde who had opened her mouth earlier looked to be close to Miranda’s 300ish pounds. Overall, collectively they may have been fat, but none of them were really fat.

At least, that's what I thought until I got to the other side of the table.

This time, there was no stopping my jaw from dropping. If I thought that Dr Cowley struck a tantalizing figure with her mouth-watering hips, there was nothing that could prepare me for all of this. Each and every one of these girls had a massive backside, thick, barrel-shaped legs, stupendously wide, multi-chaired hips and even plump, meaty calves. Their butts jutted out far behind them to varying degrees of extremity and all of their lower halves seemed to be fighting for space in elastic skirts, leggings, jeggings, likely whatever would still fit.

I was lucky to be behind the girls, as they couldn't see my mouth agape or Miranda’s subtle smirk. And the girls certainly weren't making any eye contact either. Many of their faces were red with embarrassment and a few were devoting their full attention to their plates, or the door or anything but the "guy" standing behind them. Some of them were muttering things hotly that only their immediate neighbor could hear, others were rapidly stuffing their faces as if losing their focus in their food would cause me to lose focus on them.

I saw now that I was wrong in thinking that any of these girls save one or two were nowhere near Miranda’s weight. It seemed most of them had easily surpassed it. The curly-haired brunette that I had thought to be the heaviest of the group was clearly only in third place behind the raven-haired girl and the talkative blonde. That might have explained why they had been the most vocal about revealing their bottom halves. Out of all the bottom-heaviness I was now being told to drink in before me, they appeared to be the most extremely proportioned, the sheer insane amount of mass they had spread across and over multiple seats and squeezed into equally exhausted pairs of jeggings and leggings respectively. Those two had to be over 500 pounds apiece easily, definitely closer to 600, although you would never know merely walking by or glancing into the room that they were a hair over 300, the way the table was situated. Maybe that had been intentional.

"What you are witnessing, Jamie,” Miranda said, her tone completely serious despite the goofy look of incredulity still stuck on my face, "is the main reason Chemical 9 hasn't found its way past the testing phase yet. It comes with... unique side effects. Nothing dangerous per se, just unique." She sounded more like she was convincing herself than anyone else.

The only girl who could still pass for "skinny" was a girl of middle-eastern descent with stunning eyes (that seemed to be a theme with this test group) who was only bordering plump up top, but was still absurdly wide comparatively once one got to the hips. She could still fit on just one chair though, even though her fleshy thighs and hip fat flowed over both sides of it.

With a nervous swallow, the "skinny" girl turned around and got up from the table while the others slowly followed her lead. She walked over with an apprehensive downward glance, her thighs and hips jiggling furiously with each footfall.

"My name is Naya," she said, holding out a dusky, slender arm and smiling. As I shook her hand, more of the girls struggled to lift themselves from their chairs. Now that the initial reveal was out of the way, there wasn't much any of the girls had left to hide. Still, carrying such an absurd amount of weight below the belt meant that some of the heavier girls needed a minute or two to brace themselves against the table, or even each other. These chairs, I'd noticed, were a lot lower to the ground than normal. Of course, each and every girl was sitting on a posterior so spectacular that from the other side of the clearly intentionally positioned tables one would never know.

The next girl who walked up to me was a bespectacled redhead, the only other girl who still squeezed herself onto one chair (armless here too, for now obvious reasons). What her hips lacked in width, however, she made up for with how obscenely far her ass stuck out behind her. Her two jiggling cheeks were bouncing vigorously in a pair of spandex boy shorts that exposed her sturdy, surprisingly muscular thighs.

"Kelly," she said, adjusting her glasses. I recognized her as one of the girls who had whistled and winked when I had first been introduced. Kelly was thick all over and actually appeared to be quite strong, the only girl who seemed to have a fair bit of muscle behind all that fat. She pulled me into a hug instead of a handshake, 'incidentally' pressing her D-cup breasts into my chest as she purred softly in my ear. "I hope we get to know each other a lot better." She pulled away, her eyelashes batting over her hazel eyes.

"N-Nice to meet you," I sputtered, now officially hot and bothered. The two girls to approach next both rolled their eyes.

"Ingrid," the Spanish girl with braided hair said.

"Chelsea," said the short-haired brunette, both appearing very friendly but restraining from invading too much of my personal space like Kelly had. Both Ingrid and Chelsea looked to be in a weight class quite a bit higher than Naya and Kelly. While Kelly still looked safely under 300 and Naya could even pass for average from the waste up, Chelsea was a BIG girl, top and bottom. Out of all the disproportionately shaped girls in the room she was perhaps the most evened out. Her short, wavy hair framed chubby, fat-filled cheeks and her double-chin tripled when she opened her mouth to speak. She also had a big, two-tiered belly that hung over the super tight plaid skirt she had stuffed herself into.

Ingrid actually had a thin face and shoulders, although she too expanded rapidly the farther my eyes went down until they reached her extra-wide hips, crammed into astonishingly tight jeans that appeared to have already split a few seams on the side. Her butt didn't stick out as far behind her as Chelsea's and certainly not Kelly's, despite weighing quite a bit more than the latter girl. Ingrid probably had the 'flattest' ass of the group, although the fat that didn't go to filling her great, wobbling cheeks instead found its home on her fluffy saddlebags and thick legs.

My last two coworkers were still located near the tables in the middle of the room. The blonde girl was standing, her gigantic butt stretching her leggings until they were practically see-through, and putting her hand on the still-seated pale raven-haired girl's shoulder. The girl still seated was humongous. Clearly the biggest by a mile, she was the only tester who required three seats instead of two, seats that looked like they would have been relieved if their criminally callipygian occupant were to finally rise to a standing position. A ridiculous amount of the burgeoning, billowing fat that afflicted her frame was concentrated in her ass, thighs and hips; even seated I could see that she clearly far outweighed and outsized the other girls even if her (relatively) thin, pretty face still only had two chins.

"C'mon Lily," the blonde girl said, sounding more exasperated than supportive. The tan-skinned, green-eyed haughty one not only had that outrageous ass but a pretty sizeable tummy and, resting on top, easily the largest breasts of the group. "You don't want everyone waiting on you," she added with a disinterested look.

"It's not that," Lily replied again in her light, airy voice. "I'm just having a little trouble standing is all."

It was no wonder why. Lily's legs and hips seemed to be completely buried under a layer of adipose so thick her one thigh probably measured farther around than Naya's entire butt, outrageously bottom-heavy as she was.

"Madison," Miranda gestured to the blonde, "would you mind helping Lily stand?" She cast a pleading glance in the blonde girl's direction.

"Oh, of course! No problem," she stuttered, not meaning to have embarrassed her stranded friend. The blonde's demeanor became much humble as she began easing her stranded colleague out of her seats.

As Madison assisted Lily with lifting her gargantuan booty from the comfort of her three chairs, Miranda looked to me and continued.

"Like I was saying," her tone getting serious again, "side-effects of Chemical 9,” she began.

"Is that it makes your butt freakin' huge," I blurted out, completely against my better judgment. I was anything but clear-headed right now. Surrounded by such astronomically proportioned ladies, there was zero chance of any blood getting to my brain at the moment.

Several of the girls yelped or sighed in dismay at hearing my unfiltered critique. Ingrid let out a loud "AHEM" while crossing her arms under her swollen bosom and Lily was so taken aback that her legs gave out from under her and she fell back onto her chairs with a loud whimper and a considerably louder thump.

Clearly their absurd bottom-heaviness was still a sore subject all around; that and the universal strain all of their lower halves had on their outfits gave me the impression that a lot of this weight gain had been recent. It was clearly something none of them had quite gotten used to yet.

“JAMIE!” Miranda quickly swooped in to correct me. It sounded like she was used to doing damage control when it came to the girls and their experienced "side-effects". She let out a deep sigh and put a hand on my shoulder.

 

"Okay," she began, "the truth is, when I first presented my superiors with Chemical 9, they told me it would change the world, that it was lightning in a bottle." Her face turned down disappointedly, scrunching her chins against each other. "After witnessing the side effects, they started calling it lipedema in a bottle instead. And I've tried everything. Once I began to witness the initial results, I tried testing on different nationalities to see if the weight distributions would be different." Naya twiddled her thumbs at this, and Ingrid scoffed out loud.

"Then I thought to try for women who appeared to be naturally predisposed to accumulating adipose above the waist instead of below." At this, it was Chelsea who led out an aggravated sigh and tapped her foot impatiently. Madison had the look of a true sceptic on her face while she rolled her green eyes demeaningly.

"And if you were pear-shaped to begin with, forget it." Lily, having finally stood with the help of Madison, purred out another light whimper upon hearing this and put her hands on the tops of her breathtaking hips, wider than anyone else's in the room.

Spurring on despite the grumbling a of her employees, Miranda continued.

"At this point we're fully aware that there are side-effects," No shit was mumbled from somewhere in Madison's vicinity. "But," Miranda pressed on, choosing to ignore it, "we're still not 100% sure what those side-effects are in both genders however, and that's why it was important that we finally get at least one male in our test group."

I nodded in understanding; it was sort of beginning to make sense now.

"So," I piped up, hoping to change the subject from my earlier abrasive comment, "you're saying that Chemical 9 has a different effect on men?" Ingrid was still looking me up and down disapprovingly with her arms crossed and Lily had gone from her normal porcelain complexion to being completely red from embarrassment.

"Well, exactly, and what that difference is," she continued, taking my lead, "is what we're here to test for."

Was this it, and was this legal? I just had to eat some goop and see if it made me fat or not? And if it did, then what? With these and many other thoughts swimming in my head, Miranda carried on with her introduction to her dilemma.

"I've accepted that Chemical 9 as it is needs a major overhaul. But what I've been so desperate to understand is, why the side-effects only seem to manifest in women…”

"J-just the women?" I stammered, inwardly a bit relieved.

“Not sure,” Dr Cowley said, strolling over to the table for yet another donut. This one she finished in only three bites before continuing. "My original sampling size over at North U had a few guys.. but a lot of the original crew opted out of the experiment when they found out I was relocating it to the new lab. Time and schedule constraints, mostly. These guys," she gestured to to her remaining girls, "are all that's left of the A squad."

"Good. Collette was a bitch, anyway," Madison piped in, more to herself than to Miranda. Lily had to stifle a giggle. The two true heavyweights of the "A Squad" seemed to be closer than any of the other girls, despite their notably opposite personalities. Still blushing ever so slightly, Lily hardly seemed like she had a mean bone in her body.

Miranda, probably a pro by now at ignoring Madison's seemingly ceaseless snark, carried on. "Right now, my focus has been on tweaking Chemical 9 to minimize its 'undesired' effects, and a crucial key to that has to be cracking why the effects clearly seem to target only a certain portion of the population. If we can," Miranda looked off dreamily, "imagine how much we could change."

"And," Ingrid interrupted, showing off her own prowess with snarkiness, "if you could reverse the effects, think of how much that could change." She was still giving me a less-than-subtle sideways glare, my earlier remark about the size of her butt still fresh on her mind.

"I really, really need to lose weight, Dr C,” Chelsea added in agreement. Her chins quivered as she talked. "Like, I know it's not all Chemical 9’s fault I got fat but... I never used to be THIS fat." She patted her bulbous hips for emphasis.

"I mean," Naya meekly chimed in, she was probably the quietest one of all, "it takes some getting used to, but I don't mind too much..."

"That's the spirit Naya!" Miranda cheered.

"Okay, but," Lily countered, her soft, sweet voice ever-so-slightly elevated in volume, "your hips don't brush the double doors. And you only need one chair. I almost need four..." At this admission, her face immediately went red again. Now that Lily was standing, it was easy to see that her lamentation over her hips and their door-clogging propensity was no exaggeration.

"Yea, well," Naya fidgeted awkwardly, "I'm not there yet, but umm.." Lily looked clearly distraught to be in the limelight, likely another facet of her shyish personality. She seemed even more fidgety than Naya, her hands gently kneading her soft, pudgy belly for lack of anything better to do.

"But ladies," Madison chimed in, eager to take the heat off of her bestie, "good thing our new savior Jamie is here," she said with one big roll of her emerald eyes. "I'm sure the pounds will be melting off any single day now."

"Thank you for the positive mindset, Madison," Miranda replied, once again deftly evading Madison's obvious sarcasm. "That is exactly why Jamie is here on our team. His acclimation to the experiment might lead to the eureka that cracks the secrets of Chemical 9 wide open!"

More eye-rolling from Madison, Ingrid and even Kelly.

"Let's get down to business!" Miranda clapped her hands together enthusiastically, sending her upper arms jiggling for a moment. "So, Jamie, without further ado," she said, procuring a spoon and a bowl seemingly from nowhere, "let's start you on sampling Chemical 9 immediately.

"Umm," I hemmed, reaching my hand over to Miranda’s.

I held the bowl and spoon in front of me unassuredly while Miranda continued. "I'll finish posting up everyone's weekly weighins on the bulletin board and get to work on Phase II's experiment!" More groans from the girls.

Miranda, seemingly unphased, sauntered off towards the bulletin boards on the far right wall, her hips bouncing as she sashayed across the room, picking up a rather large cupcake from off of the place mat in front of Chelsea's seats on the way. The other girls watched silently as she checked her phone, scribbled a few things on one of the boards and then left through the double doors with nary a goodbye, her mind clearly preoccupied with setting up whatever "Phase II" might entail. It was only after she left that Madison piped up.

"Ugh, you know for a "scientist" she is just so fucking clueless," she began.

"Language, Maddy," Kelly smirked.

"No, I agree," Chelsea chimed in. "Her special sauce, like, doesn't work. Unless she's just trying to turn us into parade floats."

"Yea, herself included," added Ingrid, seeming eager to join the gossip. "She's definitely been digging in to her own supply; remember when we started and she was almost as skinny as Lily used to be?"

"Mmph, this stuff is delicious!"

The girls stopped their conversation and turned to look at me.

"Damn, no really this stuff tastes great!" I reached my spoon back into the bowl Dr. Cowley had given me, now full of silky white goop. "It's like, just the right amount of sweet and salty... and tangy... and a little bit of everything."

"Do you mind?" Chelsea patted her belly, which had just emitted a loud, fierce rumble. "You're not helping," she pouted.

"Yea, seriously," Lily whimpered, "willpower is a big issue here."

Almost like yawning, Chelsea's big, hanging belly began triggering the other girls' appetites. In just seconds, the furtive chatter going on in the room had been replaced by by a chorus of growling stomachs, and the girls began making their way back to the table that bore their one respite. Some could clearly move more quickly than others. Naya and Ingrid were the first to resume their seating arrangements, Naya resuming picking at her food while Ingrid tucked in to a substance-coated croissant with gusto. Chelsea waddled over to the edge of the table to pick up a Danish for the short journey back and Kelly plopped down on her chair heavily, her boobs oozing on to the cold metal table as she leaned forward to grab a bowl of custard.

Lily was, unsurprisingly, the slowest of the six and Madison appeared to be lumbering towards... me?

"Hey, would you mind?" she asked me, "I know it doesn't look it," she added, gesturing to the table still laden with fountain-sized bowls, large silver plates and multi-tiered serving trays, "but we're actually running pretty low. We, uh, get a lot done in a short amount of time."

That was certainly no joke. Having had Naya and Kelly put their respective repasts on pause to help lower her into her three seats, seats that themselves had to be spaced apart from each other by a few inches, Lily was practically inhaling the pudding in front of her, having gone with a serving spoon as opposed to a personal one.

"Sure," I said, more than a little eager to get on Madison's good side, "what do you need me to do?"

Madison smiled, the first time I'd seen her do so, and my heart skipped a little bit. "Next to the bulletin boards there's a call button." I turned around to squint at it. "See? The red one? We push it when we're running low and personnel will come with more foo- umm, "supplies". You wouldn't mind helping us out?" She took a second to turn towards the table and reached over to pick up two glazed donuts, taking a bite of one and then unceremoniously dunking the other into my bowl. "For the road," she grinned.

I took my time walking over to the far wall, actively munching on my donut while I strode forward. Even with my back turned to the table, I could still hear the rapacious, almost riotous grabbing, chewing and swallowing that was going on behind me. A loud *PLOP* and a sigh of relief told me that Madison had finally made her way back to the chairs she was using and resumed her part in the frenzy.

I made my way over to the call button and gave it a push. A small green light above flashed on; I guess that was to let us know the request had been received? Still in a new environment and out of my element, I hardly knew how a thing worked, including this substance, which I spooned into my mouth again while I strolled down the bulletin wall, smattered with an assortment of graphs, documents, colorful charts and... a weight chart in specific. I glanced at it quickly and then turned away. Would it be rude of me to take a peek? It was pretty obvious to me that weight was a pretty sore subject around these girls and they might think of it as intrusive if the first thing I did when I joined their test group was pry into their personal health stats. I looked back to the steel table at the center of the room. Chelsea was munching on a key lime pie with Chemical 9 drizzled on top and Lily had dropped all pretenses and picked up a veritable punch bowl of the odd white goop and was tipping her head back, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of the sweet, savory, sour, little bit of everything mixture.

Yea, they definitely weren't paying attention.

I fidgeted with my spoon as it hit the bottom of an empty bowl, my portion of Chemical 9 completely consumed, donut and all.

Would it really hurt all that badly to look?

Of course it wouldn’t.

My eyes roamed to the top of the list. Jamie B: 5'10 155 lbs. Well, I already knew that one. I guess now would have been the time to look away if I were going to. But I didn't.

The weights seemed to be listed in order of ascending number.

Kelly A 5'1 244.2 lbs

Naya B: 5'6 278.6 lbs

That one was a bit surprising. Kelly certainly looked to be the thicker of the two, especially with the way that bubble butt jutted out behind her to such a ludicrous degree. However, Naya did have a few inches on her, and she wasn't lacking in the ass department either. None of these girls were.

Ingrid G: 5'5 361.1 lbs

Hard to imagine a 350ish pound girl needing more than one chair to sit comfortably, but Ingrid's spectacular saddlebag hips clearly made her an exception.

Chelsea L: 5'8 519.9 lbs

That one made sense. Ingrid may have edged Chelsea out when it came to her hips and thighs but the latter girl was clearly carrying quite a bit more on top. In fact, with her height and the size of her belly, I was surprised the number wasn't even higher than it was.

Madison B: 5'7 637.1lbs

Whoa... Madison, on the other hand, was quite a bit bigger than I was expecting. Over 600 pounds?! I'd only pegged her at being somewhere in the 500s but I'd definitely underestimated by a margin. I looked back over to her. She had made a makeshift bin out of napkins and draped it over her large breasts, breasts that threatened to almost make her an hourglass as opposed to a pear, and the napkins were covered with crumbs and specks of icing that would've otherwise found their way into her deep, expansive cleavage. She looked down at her chest, her second chin bunching into a third, and brushed the top of her paper bib off, barely taking her eyes off of her food but for a second.

I moved on to the final weight listed; it was Lily's, no surprise. Seated right next to Madison, she almost made the 600 pound blonde seem tiny in comparison.

Lily had finally finished her great bowl of Chemical 9 and had now moved on to one equally as large, full of quickly melting ice cream from what was probably once a proud, fully-realized sundae. She had a ladle in one hand and a pitcher of Chemical 9 in the other, alternating between pouring the mixture on to her sundae and chugging directly from it to wash down another big mouthful of neopolitan. From this angle, I could see that her three chairs were indeed spaced roughly 3 to 4 inches apart and her hips still sagged heavily over the sides of the two outer ones. She was right; she'd probably be more comfortable spread across four at this point, two for each of her colossal, clownishly impractical ass cheeks, confined in the largest pair of jeggings (there was no way they made jeans in that size) I had ever seen and stretching them to the absolute limit. It was crazy. Had I only seen her from the neck up I might have mistakenly put her in the same weight class as Kelly or Naya, certainly lighter than Chelsea, whose chubby cheeks and three, almost four chins jiggled furiously while she scarfed down a bear claw that she had just dipped into a substance-filled bowl to her right.

I gulped and turned back around to face the weight chart, not knowing just how high I expected the number next to Lily's name to be. The raven-haired, dark-eyed beauty was 5'6, the same height as Naya, and...

Lily L: TBD (Max Weight Exceeded)

...The number was so high it wasn't even listed. I started to ponder what it could be when the double doors next to the buzzer I had pressed burst open. Six people, all men, I presumed, strode silently forward pushing a total of three large, silver four-tiered shelves on wheels. They were each laden down on all four levels with an absolute smorgasbord of cookies, cupcakes, crepes, crullers, you name it. And, of course, inter laden with each plate and platter were bowls, pitchers and even decanters full of Chemical 9. The smell emitting from the trays was heavenly. It easily distracted me from the six tall, faceless men that accompanied each mobile "serving shelf". They wore white lab coats, like Anne, but also wore white surgical masks, white goggles, white caps, white pants, even white shoes. The only break in their monotonous attire was a pair of teal gloves on each hand, one of which was helping to push each silver shelf; the other hand in every case was holding a large clipboard with a handful of ruffled sheets and a sleek black pen.

The silence of the men was a bit unnerving, but I tried to pay it no mind as I made my way back to the main table. And to the food. The tall men in the white lab coats, having reached the table sooner than I with their long, imposing strides, began quickly and rather efficiently unloading empty dishes from the table while swapping them out with the contents of the shelves. The girls, in their frenzy, hardly even changed pace as their empty dishes were replaced. Naya was the only one to give a quiet but curt "thank you" that received no response as the men then proceeded to bring up their clipboards and began taking notes. I noticed, curiously, that there was an attendant for each girl present but they didn't seem to divide their attention evenly. Naya barely received a once-over while three of the men were focused squarely on Lily, furiously scribbling notes while she dolloped a more viscous, custard-like Chemical 9 onto a Danish. One of the men procured a tape measure from his coat pocket and quickly measured the breadth of Ingrid's hips from behind before writing something down on his board while shaking his head. Ingrid was too caught up in her second boston creme pie to notice.

I found a seat on the far side of the table, next to Naya, and began to dig in. This stuff was delicious. I picked up a piece of french toast, drizzled some of the substance on it, took a bite and smiled. This was going to be a pretty sweet gig if this was all I had to do and not even worry about getting fat like the girls.

The six men in the lab coats all immediately paused what they were doing. They began speaking in hushed tones to each other in... Russian? Croatian? I couldn't really tell. They then all hurriedly strode over to me and began staring me down, taking more invigorated notes. I looked around, gulping both out of anxiety and because my mouth was currently full of sponge cake. Nobody else seemed to care that they were being watched. Chelsea was busy fusing two slices of chocolate cake and a big glob of chemical custard into a makeshift sandwich and Kelly had finally unbuttoned her cargo shorts, finding her second wind and pushing forward at a pace that almost matched even Lily. I guess they were used to the attention. But why was so much attention currently on me?

I decided to pay it no mind, dripping a glob of Chemical 9 onto my next slice of sponge cake. Sure enough, after a time, the men concluded their notes and strode out exactly as they had come in, silver shelves now filled with empty trays and platters that had been literally licked clean.

And the process continued. After a point, Naya got up and slowly waddled over to the call button. Then Kelly. Then even Ingrid, after a few heaves, managed to pick herself up and lumbered her way over to the buzzer on her way to the bathroom. I noticed how the heavier girls seemed to be given a reprieve when it came to getting up, likely because of the difficulty that they would have had at their sizes. Surely enough, when next the time came to "resupply", I was asked to make the trip. I looked at the clock that hung on the far side of the room. We had been at this for... 3 hours?! I'd had no idea so much time had elapsed and I didn't feel a thing in terms of fullness. I stood up and my belly brushed the table as I did. Wait, my, my belly? I looked down, alarmed. In spite of feeling no fullness, my stomach now jutted out at least a few inches over my belt. My jeans weren't particularly high-waisted; I must not have noticed.

My shock was interrupted from a laugh somewhere at the other side of the table.

"It happens quick, right?" Madison said, with another one of her heart-melting smiles. “Chemical 9 metabolizes itself and anything that's digested with it at an accelerated rate. That's why you never feel full. In case you were wondering," she capitulated with another smile.

"Buuut the other side effect is that you blow up like a fucking balloon," Kelly quipped.

"Umm, language, Kelly," Madison reciprocated with Kelly's same smirk from earlier.

"But I thought you said there was no side-effect for guys!" I blurted, maybe a little too loud.

"Well, that's because no guy could stomach the stuff," Ingrid replied, voice muffled as she was still in the process of chewing a cannoli. "You're the first one who actually likes the taste."

"Yea, I remember Trevor saying it tastes like someone vomited old cigarettes," Chelsea added.

"Yea, that piece of shit would know, freakin burnout loser," Kelly angry muttered before soothing herself with some vanilla pudding, substance-infused, of course. Something told me Kelly was being a bit hypocritical when she had told Madison to watch her language earlier.

"So," I started, slowly putting two and two together, "the reason that men never gained weight on Chemical 9 is that-"

"None of the male subjects would willingly consume it," Miranda finished for me. "You're the one exception." I jumped a little, startled, and my belly gave a little jiggle, causing my shirt to ride up a bit. I hadn't even noticed Anne come back into the room. Sure enough, she was there with a somewhat, well, diabolical grin rested between her chubby cheeks and a serving tray with another bowl and spoon on it in her outstretched arms.

"And that is exactly why you, Jamie, are going to be exactly what cracks the mystery of Chemical 9 wide open! I've finally found you!" She grinned even larger.

I accepted the tray from Miranda and gulped, this time purely out of anxiety. This might not go how I initially thought it would.

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This is from another interactive story that I contributed to years ago on a different site under a different name. The same as before, I just pulled out the parts that I wrote, changed up a couple of names and then tried to build around to make a story that stands on its own. Also, fun fact, this story ended up my inspiration for my other story "The Girl Behind the Counter", which I'm totally going to finish any day now <.<

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  • 2 weeks later...
On 4/15/2020 at 3:01 PM, corozosilco said:

I like your story. Is kinda interesting when the chemical plot is included into a story, i love that.

Do you know about other stories about the same (chemical, compounds) in this site or another sites? 

Lol no not really sorry haha

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Later that evening I stood in my room, slowly packing a few personal items in a small carry-on. The experiment, I discovered, was residential; we were to stay in the adjacent dorms when we weren't in the lab. My room hadn't been set up yet, so I'd spend one more night at home before vacating for the next six weeks. My parents' maid was, of course, completely indifferent and probably eager to have an empty house to look after for a while. I was eager to see my new accommodations, the girls all promised that the rooms were very spacious (probably by necessity in Lily and Madison's case) and it didn't look like I had much choice. Anne was more than a little gung-ho about seeing just how I "acclimated" to her Substance 7 and the results were.. alarming, to say the least.

Madison hadn't been joking. This stuff made it so that you NEVER felt full. I had gorged on an amount of food I didn't think possible for my frame... at least my frame as of that morning. I gingerly lifted my shirt up and looked over to the wall mirror next to my clothes closet. The closet was mostly still full; other than some undergarments and a few pairs of sweatpants, the stretchiest that I owned, Madison had advised me against packing too many outfits. Kelly and Chelsea had been more than helpful in showing me where on the board the clothing requisition forms were.

"For when you, um.. IF you gain any weight," Cheslea corrected herself with a nervous giggle, "I haven't seen the guy's catalog, but the girls' is pretty nice." As for the clothes I had at home, they likely wouldn't fit by the end of the week.

Yea, no kidding.

My jeans were unbuttoned, making room for a protruding, protuberant tummy that I swore hadn't been there this afternoon. This had to have been impossible! I was sporting at least 25 new pounds around my middle. Nobody could gain this in just a single day, but, as the ever-informative Madison had explained, "Substance 7 is supposed to break down and metabolize incredibly quickly," she had paused then to take a bite of mac and cheese, "I think it's supposed to be in order to deliver nutrients to the body as immediately as possible? For, like, third-world people and stuff?" She had been a little too distracted by a bit of cheese falling into her cleavage and didn't continue her explanation.

So it also carried that effect along with whatever I consumed with it, apparently. I sloshed over to my bed and reached for a plastic tube next to my suitcase. Aloe-infused Vaseline. "For your hips," Naya had smiled, looking down and avoiding eye contact as she handed the lotion over to me, "for umm, the stretch marks." I had, at the time, merely smiled and thanked her, clearly distracted by my new paunch and eager to make my way out of the itinerary room. A few of the girls were staring at my distended belly, giggling to each other and whispering. As I made my way past them toward the doors, I could hear little offhand snippets like "growing so fast already" or "Jesus... just one day so far?" On my way out, I thought I could make out one of the girls giving Naya a rewarding pat on the back.

Returning to my mirror, I drank in the changes to my physique. It didn't seem like my hips would be the problem. If the girls were destined to pile it on below the belt, it looked like my weight was headed in the opposite direction. Sure, I had never had abs or anything, but having a beer gut that I certainly didn't have yesterday was pretty jarring. I reached up and cupped my pectorals, which were also softening to the touch and beginning to protrude as well. I sighed and poured out a glob of Naya's lotion. The aforementioned stretch marks had ignored my hips and legs and instead taken up residence on my belly.

The lotion was soothing to the touch. Naya had been very helpful in giving it to me. In fact, all of the girls had been very helpful in getting me acclimated on my first day. Especially once Anne had proclaimed me the "savior" of her experiment, I noticed at once that nobody had asked me to get up to press the call button anymore. Later in the day, after Kelly and Chelsea had shown me the clothing requisition form, they had also kindly shown me where the kitchen and the cafeteria were, and even gave me a rundown on the location and the contents of all of the numerous vending machines. Ingrid had taught me a cool trick, filling a large thermos with Substance 7 and hot water to make a sort of "tea" to go with dinner. Madison was my go-to for the structuring and scheduling of the experiment, although any question I asked was usually answered with a bowl of Substance 7 or a slice of cake in hand. Usually both. All in all, the amount of food I had eaten today easily outweighed the amount I ate in over a month... And whenever I tried to put the fork down one of the girls would lightly protest with something along the lines of, "Hey, you haven't seen us stop yet, right?" or "but I'm still eating. When in Rome, right dude?" or "so you're just going to sit here and watch us? Might as well, right?" I didn't protest nearly as much as I should have. Something about being surrounded by so many admittedly hot although rather large women and wanting to fit in made me collapse under the slight but consistent peer pressure to continue to stuff my face.

I mean, these were really nice girls, as far as Day 1 was concerned, and if all making them like me took was getting chubby with them, maybe this wouldn't be the worst experiment after all. It might sound naive of me in hindsight, but I never would have suspected any scheming behind Naya's shy, averted gaze or Madison's captivating grin. But, as luck would have it, their scheme was bound to backfire and all of our lives were about to change in a big way.

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On 4/15/2020 at 6:23 AM, Demp444 said:

Please tell me you are going to add more to this story? It’s really good! 

I originally hadn't planned on it, but here you go :) More coming soon!

 

Also, I hate to sound like a broken record to everybody, but you can totally support future stories FOR FREE by just heading over to my deviantart at:

https://www.deviantart.com/chickenshack

and maybe just leaving a Favorite or a Follow or even a comment or two. I'm hoping that I can get enough popularity so that I can start churning out way more stories (and actually finish my older ones lol). I'll still upload plenty of full stories here though!

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  • 3 weeks later...

The very next morning, I had just about finished moving myself in when I heard a knock on the door to my room. Well, “room” was a bit of an understatement. The adjacent dorms that we were staying in were cleared out for the summer, which means that we each got our own dormitory to ourselves. It was a bit too spacious I thought, a four-person room that had had all but a single bed moved out and my own common room/ living room area equipped with a large sofa, coffee table, a television and, of course, an attached kitchen. The kitchen was fully stocked, I had noticed, and as I walked past it, I wondered if every girl had the same setup.

Coming to the door, I unlocked it and pulled it open. It was Miranda. She wasn’t wearing a lab coat. Instead, she had on a tight blouse and incredibly tight stone-washed jeans that hugged and squeezed every inch of her wide, curvaceous hips.

“Hiya, Jamie!” Miranda waved with her usual captivating smile. “All settled in?”

I nodded yes, for lack of anything better to say.

“And the girls showed you where the clothing requisition forms are?” Miranda asked, She took a not-so-subtle glance down at my stomach as she inquired. In truth, I hadn’t quite gone there yet, but it was pretty obvious that I was a little overdue. And if I wasn’t, I certainly would be after today… I was already apprehensive about meeting the girls for a second round of “experimentation”.

“Yea, Chelsea showed me,” I answered. “I just haven’t filled one out yet.”

“Good!” Miranda clapped her hands together excitedly, sending her upper arms jiggling through her light purple blouse. “Comfort is a priority.” She looked down at an ornate golden wristwatch that adorned her left arm. It seemed pretty expensive for a scientist’s salary, all things considered. “Oh, looks like breakfast has already started. Most of the girls should be in the cafeteria, if you’re looking to join them.” Miranda looked at me like it was more of a suggestion than an offer.

I gulped. “Yes, I was just headed down there,” I fibbed.

“Excellent!” Miranda replied. “Breakfast normally transitions right into brunch and lunch, then around 2 o’clock we’ll meet in the bulletin area for testing and itinerary review.”

Seriously? Do these girls spend literally all their day eating? Even outside of the “testing” section of the day?

“Alright! We’re all set!” Miranda turned to make her way swiftly down the hall. “I’m going to head down to the cafeteria myself,” she said, taking a moment to pull up her ill-fitting jeans before sauntering off. “See you in a few!”

I didn’t have the willpower not to turn and stare as she walked away. As she sped down the hallway at a brisk pace, likely eager to get to whatever mad experiment she was working on, her hips sashayed to and fro, causing her plump rump to bounce up and down in her extra-tight blue jeans. Something told me that they hadn’t been that tight until recently… Miranda didn’t seem to have much of an issue with dipping into her own supply, as the girls had hinted at earlier. Or, maybe, she couldn’t stop.

I had debated the idea of whether or not Chemical 9 was addictive. Reaching down to prod my protruding belly, I sincerely hoped that it wasn’t. As if in response, a low rumble emitted from my midsection. As Miranda turned the corner and disappeared from view, there was nothing left to distract me from the fact that I was suddenly very, very hungry. I reached into my pocket for my phone so I could check the time as Miranda had. It was only 8:30… I wasn’t used to feeling this hungry this early in the morning.In fact, during a usual summer I wouldn’t even be up until around ten. This hunger was new… and it was worrisome. Nonetheless, I pulled my shirt down over my still grumbling stomach and stepped out of my dorm, closing the door behind me. As the lock fell into place with a soft ‘click’, I hurried and headed in my boss’s direction.

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  • 5 weeks later...

The cafeteria was an area that I hadn’t yet been to but was soon to become very familiar grounds. It was where we were expected to eat breakfast and lunch before heading off to testing. The first thing that I noticed about it was, well, how nice and well-kept it was. When I pushed back the double doors and stepped inside for the first time, I thought that I had stepped into an actual restaurant. It was brightly lit and friendly looking, with soft maroon carpeting covering the actual dining area and fresh, polished linoleum tile adorning the section where the food was located. Similar to an all-you-can-eat buffet, there was an ornate wooden partition with a railing that separated the dining area from the actual food, splayed across a long row of several trays kept warm under heat lamps. I strode into the room earnest and the smell of the food overwhelmed me.

Even with the sneeze guards serving as a direct visual barrier, I could smell sausage, ham, fresh bacon, pretty much every breakfast meat present and accounted for, and entire trays of eggs in every different style I’d ever heard of. As I got closer to the partition, I was forced with a decision: left or right. To the right were the steaming mountains of mouth-watering food beckoning to me with their tantalizing aromas. And to the left, on an area that was slightly elevated by a few steps, were my co-testers.

“Hey Jamie!” Kelly called over to me from the table closest to my right. She waved me over in between a mouthful of chocolate chip pancakes, her thick upper arms jiggling with the motion. Well, looks like my choice was made for me. I strode to the left, hopping up the three small steps over to the dining tables.

It was clearly evident that I had showed up to a meal already in progress. Almost all of the girls were actively engaged with consuming the food in front of them at a pace that put to shame the rate at which I had seen them slurping up Chemical 9 the day before. There were six large, round tables, all groaning with the same on the other side of the room, only now more buttery and syrup-lathered. Not every girl had her own table, however. The table that I was walking over to now seated both Kelly and Chelsea. Kelly was wiping syrup off her cheeks and pushing her plate away from her, while Chelsea was leaned back in her chairs, one hand patting the top roll of her large belly while the other ferried a forkful of hash browns to her waiting maw. With Chelsea’s short curls tied back into a tiny bob of a ponytail, likely to keep from getting any egg in her hair, I could see the full chubbiness of her cheeks and just how far they bulged outward, giving the girl veritable jowls that jiggled rhythmically as she chewed. Sure, Chelsea was fat, and not even the fattest girl here, but she had a particularly fat face that forced her soft eyes into an adorable but constant squint. As she opened her mouth to greet me, a muffled “Mornin’ Jamie,” muttered through a mouthful of potatoes, her second chin dug into the prominent ring of fat that ran all the way around her neck, and made it appear that she didn’t even have one.

I returned the greeting with a small wave, trying to keep casual. And, trying my hardest not to attack the mountainous spread of breakfast food in front of me. I wasn’t sure if I could… Was this, ALL of this just for Chelsea?

As if reading my thoughts, Kelly piped up. “Have a seat, dude! Help yourself,” she said, pointing to the large spread in front of her. She adjusted her glasses and stood up for me to take her seat. “The servers come out every like, fifteen minutes to refill everything if you want to make an order. Otherwise its just buffet style,” she reached her arms up and stretched as she said this, perhaps not unintentionally pressing her heaving chest against her already tight lime green tank top.

“Umm,” I stammered, a little flustered and trying my best to keep my eyes upward. “You sure?” I posited, for lack of anything better to say.

“Yea, I’ve mostly been grazing, anyway,” she replied with a sparkling white smile. “I like to go for little walks during brunch. Look at the quad, build my appetite back up for lunch…”

“Oh, sounds nice,” I said.

“It’s really nice,” Kelly purred. “Maybe you can come join me some time.” She winked at me and then sauntered away with a little extra sway in her hips than was necessary. It made the twin cheeks of her curvaceous bubble butt bounce up and down with such a furious jiggling I thought for a second that she might just rip her light grey leggings right down the middle. How she had managed to get those on, or why she had even bothered in the first place with what little was left to the imagination any way… I found myself distracted by a new type of hunger, but only for the briefest of moments. As Kelly slipped out of the doors that I had come through and out of my field of view, my newly-realized ** belly let loose another low grumble that forced my attention back to the table in front of me.

I slipped into Kelly’s old seat, still warm from its prior occupant. I reached around some blueberry muffins for a clean plate, wondering whether or not I would bother here with silverware. I was feeling more and more ravenous, and being within close proximity of the food I had been staring at and smelling was making my mouth begin to water.

The fare littering the top of the large round table included everything that I had seen in the row of buffet trays on the other side of the room. I was already sliding a few pancakes onto my plate and trying to drizzle syrup on them while simultaneously forking as many pieces of sausage and bacon as I could with my free hand. There was an entire heaping mound of omelettes on a plate nearer to Chelsea’s side of the table; as I struggled to reach over the table for it, my bare belly brushed the edge of the table.

I grimaced, hastily sitting back down and trying to pull my shirt over my exposed stomach. I now desperately wished I had filled in that clothing form. Although, looking across the table from me at Chelsea, I could hardly see why I had any reason to be concerned about my “wardrobe malfunction”.

Chelsea had clearly already put some heavy work into the spread in front of her. I could see over the mounds of food on the table that she was rubbing her round, heavy gut, patting the top roll tenderly and letting out an occasional hiccup. Her belly was fully exposed, her shirt having ridden up enough to allow her billowing, two-tiered stomach full exposure to the cafeteria air. From the angle I was seated, I could see that the bottom tier of her belly slopped forward into her lap over the waistband of her pants and dug into the edge of the table like mine had, only she was leaning backward, not forward. She was breathing heavily, and she began rubbing the top of her belly in slow, methodical circular motions while letting out the occasional moan of what I could only guess was satisfaction.

And yet, Chelsea was still eating. Every few minutes, she would let out a grunt, struggling to lean forward far enough to pick up another forkful of bacon and hash. She would bring the fork to her mouth, deliver the food to her waiting maw and chew more slowly while she continued to rub her bare belly. Her gut was getting so large that she was beginning to not have a lap anymore and the thighs that that gut rested on were so thick and large that they oozed out of the jean shorts she was wearing, soft and smooth up to her dimpled knees.

As I continued to tuck in, I suddenly felt a little less self-conscious myself. These extra twenty-ish pounds may have come as quite a bit of a shock, but I didn’t hold a candle to the five-hundred pound girl across from me. There was no part of my mind that envisioned myself ever reaching that size. Even as I tucked into my second or maybe third omelette, I rationed that I was just hungry because I hadn’t eaten anything substantial since yesterday. Plus, the food was hot and delicious, what other reason could anyone need?

I wondered if there was any Chemical 9 lacing any of this food… but it didn’t appear so. Looking up and down at the platters on the table, I couldn’t see the white miracle goop anywhere. No, this girl seemed to be this voracious purely of her own volition, still slowly but methodically cramming more hash browns and gravy in between her plump lips and chewing slowly with her chubby cheeks.

The only people who seemed to be moving with any hustle were the chefs and servers, all white-clad and masked, moving in and out from behind constantly opening and closing doors at the far end of the room. No call button here, I mused. No, instead, all of the serving plates that Chelsea and I pulled our breakfast feast from were quickly and repeatedly replenished by swiftly moving servers carrying large silver trays and speaking in hushed tones but only to each other.

All in all, it seemed like a pretty efficient system. Mouth full of sausage and roasted potato, I looked around the room to scope out what some of the other girls were up to.

~~

The next chapter :) Sorry it took so long, I've been busy with real life and commissions... but there's more to come :)

Also, if YOU would like to commission an original work (or to influence what happens in a future chapter of a preexisting story) send me a message here or at https://www.deviantart.com/chickenshack

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  • 5 months later...

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