YouShouldBingeEat

How do we rate the odds of her being pregnant? She is 33, and with her partner for about 3 years, she might be feeling the clock is ticking. And the gain certainly hasn't slowed. 🤔

So good to have you back! ❤️

Doing a bit of reverse image searching I'm amazed to see that really is the same person - Lauren Will of @laurenslipglossary in insta. Those two images are about 5 years apart of a fucking huuuge gain. https://www.instagram.com/laurenslipglossary/

https://www.deviantart.com/youshouldbingeeat --- A scan of Phoebe’s twitter had given Violet everything she needed - a weekly alternative club night that it seemed Phoebe rarely missed, and there was no reason to think that this week would be any different. This kicked off a plan, or at least what approached a plan in Violet’s mind: She would go out and wait for Phoebe outside of this club. Once she showed her face, Violet would grab her and beat the shit out of her until she undid… whatever it was she’d done to Violet’s body. Voodoo, witchcraft, curses, Violet didn’t care, she just knew even as transformed and heavy as she was that she was angry enough. She could still overpower Phoebe and get her to undo her changes. Of course, that did mean going outside once again, which posed its own challenges. It didn’t take long to inventory her wardrobe, mostly small and medium clothes that had flattered her well when she was skinny. Loose fitting outfits that matched her less-than-girly attitude. Now nothing she owned would even come close to fitting her belly, she estimated now larger than even a full-term pregnancy. But she could hardly leave the house for her showdown naked, even before her recent knocks to her confidence that would have been insanity. Even with nearly her entire wardrobe ruled out she needed something. Nothing was fitting besides that one XL hoodie, that is, the same she had worn to the audition, although she didn't like to think back on that. She had at least been somewhat lost in the super baggy clothes, she reasoned, as she dug it out from under a heap of takeaway boxes from her latest binge. That slight hope of avoiding further embarrassment was immediately crushed when she put on the hoodie to find it now simply fit normally around her waist. A glance in the mirror compounded her worries; as before it hung loosely around her narrow shoulders, tickled by her shoulder length ginger locks - and still her sort of slim arms were almost absent with the excess material, and there was barely any impression of her having boobs at all. This despite how swollen and tender they felt - it had been building up for the past few days and had Violet worried that all the stress had her period coming early. That was the last thing she needed right now. Even so, the hoodie could arguably be described as snug across her middle - Violet’s honest reaction was that she looked bizarre and totally disproportionate. Her reflection held an average tomboy but with a gigantic gut, larger, lower and heavier than a pregnancy. She didn’t want to face the outside world in her condition, but what were the alternatives? Stay put and simply swell larger and larger, fatter and fatter? What if it never stopped? The thought sent an icy chill down her spine. She couldn’t face that prospect. She had to keep getting dressed. She had to find Phoebe. At last she had found a silver lining to this whole ordeal. Fishing out what she judged to be her stretchiest pair of leggings, she actually had just a little difficulty getting them over her ass, enough for her to turn and let out a small gasp at her reflection. She finally had some thickness to her bottom half, which she’d long wished for at least before the chaos of the past few days. While she’d never had much in the way of body image issues before her sudden explosion in weight, Violet had always longed for just a bit of curviness to her hips and thighs, and now she certainly had it with a large, proud, bouncy bubble butt behind her. For just a few seconds she forgot about the terror of her ever swelling belly while she jiggled and admired herself, and if it weren’t for her mammoth gut she would have even found herself sexy. But alas no, she realised, as no one would ever notice how great her ass was when her hugeness was visible from all angles - even behind her, her belly was clearly and vastly the largest part of her body. She sighed, considering that the only reason she even finally had an ass was her explained sudden weight gain. This is fucking infuriating, she fumed. As she began to awkwardly shuffle towards her door to finally leave, she realised just how close her belly was to hanging out of the oversized clothes as a cold breeze hit her. Already turning red with shame, with fumbling hands she lifted her belly and tucked as much as she could behind the waistband of the stretchy leggings, and then tucking the front of the hoodie in on top, her flesh wobbling indecently the whole time. She didn’t even need to look in the mirror this time to know how silly she looked - like a mess, like someone who had completely let themselves go. Fuck it, she thought, and set off. Violet tried to avoid looking, but she couldn’t help catching her reflection in one of the windows of the tube train. It was almost funny - like she was smuggling an exercise ball under her shirt, bulging in all directions. She shook her head and waddled on to the train. The ride was less than comfortable. After she breathlessly waddled on down the carriage she finally found a seat, desperately glad to take the weight off her legs. Walking more than a few minutes had rapidly become a serious challenge. She wasn’t much more comfortable like this either though, as every jolt and rumble of the train shot through her expanse of jiggling fat, a wave of fat bouncing up through her lap, under her tender boobs and back down on her thighs. Once again she was uncomfortably aware of how wide her belly was, sagging down either side of her legs and brushing against other passengers on the train. She kept her eyes down, not wanting to even potentially acknowledge their disgust. She tried not to think about the stranger forcefully grabbing her fat folds on her last journey, but couldn’t stop herself going red once again with humiliation. This stupid belly was quickly taking over her life - she would never have allowed someone to do that to her before. She’d punched people out for less. But now she was fat, and Violet felt her self confidence slipping through her fingers. But she had a plan, she reminded herself, and she would get this fixed. It wasn’t a long walk to her destination to her relief. Some shitty alternative night called Rise - Violet wouldn’t have been caught dead there, clubs in general were something she liked to turn up her nose at. She felt above the loud music, bad dancing, and overconfident ugly people. Going here in her current humiliating state made her a little nauseous. She huffed away as she shuffled down the street, conscious of her thighs having to push and lift against her belly with every step. Not much further, she soothed herself, but as she rounded a corner she gasped - nearly every shop on the street was fast food, with her destination at the far end. Her stomach rumbled and she cast her eyes down at the ground - she couldn’t bear to endure another involuntary stuffing if she lost control. She doubted her bank account could bear it either. One step in front of the other she started walking, keeping her eyes down to watch her feet, but her belly fully obscured her vision of her lower half. It didn’t matter, she just had to keep her head clear and not allow herself to fall into another binge eating episode. She just had to make it to the end of the road without eating anything. Determined, she put one step in front of the other. First up on her left was a Subway, with that distinct smell hitting her immediately as she approached. She kept her head pointed down, but to her terror she felt her legs automatically and immediately stop obeying her the moment she noticed the smell. Her walk changed direction, eagerly stepping up to the door. Her arms too began to involuntarily move, opening the door and letting her inside. And suddenly she had no control of her body at all, walking up to the counter and hearing herself enthusiastically ordering a footlong with all the extras, her mouth watering. She knew she couldn’t handle more of this but her body was on complete autopilot - internally she wanted to sob, to scream in rage and fear. Violet suddenly had zero control of her body, with some other force puppeteering her to stuff herself once again. It had her excitedly bobbing on her feet as her order was prepared, and she could feel the bouncing across her belly and ass. Violet tried with everything she could muster to move her body, to just turn around and walk out the door - but nothing happened. The server finished her order and Violet paid with a beaming smile, snatching the food and tearing into it before she had even made it back outside. She expected she would be back in control once she stepped back into the cold, but while her legs kept moving in the direction of the club she still wasn’t in command of her limbs. She eagerly stuffed her mouth with the footlong sub as her legs carried her into the KFC next door. Knuckling down, she pushed with all her might to turn her body away. Her legs betrayed her. She wished desperately that she could scream, to beg for this to end, but she was just a passenger in her own body now. She was still stuffing her face with the footlong as she ordered at the counter, talking around the mouthfuls of food to the baffled and horrified worker. Crumbs were collecting on her chest and belly but whatever was in control of her arms didn’t care to clean herself up. People around her were staring overtly as she ravenously wolfed down the last of the footlong, just in time for her next order to be handed over and for her to continue. She ate like she was a woman starving, attacking her food with vigour. Food was smudging on her face and hands but again, whatever was in control of her didn’t care. All that seemed to matter was that she kept stuffing her face. Violet wanted to cry as the force that was in control of her walked her into the next shop - a Burger King. The shame burned but she kept stuffing, buying more food and then moving on to the next shop. McDonalds, Five Guys, Taco Bell, she hit every single one on the way down the street. No matter what Violet tried she couldn’t defeat the control, resigning herself to her fate. She just had to endure this nightmare, and then she could make Phoebe suffer. She just had to ignore that strangers were pointing at her, face smeared in sauce and grease as she ordered her next gorging meal. Ignore that her clothes were feeling ever tighter around her huge belly, around her bulging ass too, even her bra was feeling uncomfortably snug. If she had the slightest control of her situation she might have vomited. She was finishing her latest purchase - an extra large kebab from a not-super-reputable looking vendor, when as she finished the last bite she suddenly and unexpectedly regained control of her body. She nearly tumbled over in surprise, slumping against the wall and struggling to get her legs to re-engage with her newly added weight, gasping loudly. Her breathing suddenly was ragged, reflecting her panic and straining muscles, and the tears she had wished for now welled up freely. Desperately she tried to pull herself together - she was back in control, and seemingly safe. Looking back she could see she had made it to the end of the street, and so seemingly she was released with her bingeing concluded for the time being. No, for good, she told herself - as now she was at her destination she was going to get even with Phoebe and have her undo this before it went any further. With her arms and legs screaming she pushed against the wall and slowly worked back into a standing position. She felt very unsteady, her legs ready to give way underneath her and her thighs now pressing together in an unfamiliar way. She widened her stance, awkwardly beginning to waddle towards the club, holding the front of her hoodie down over her belly. The sensations were nearly overwhelming, but her only comfort was that it wasn’t for much longer. The tenderness in her boobs was continuing to intensify now that she had apparently outgrown her bra - it felt like it was now a cup size too small at least. She couldn’t even enjoy that at this point. It was 9:30pm as she stood outside the club, ready for her stakeout. She saw a wall where she could perch, waiting for her target to arrive. Violet sat her plump backside on the wall and began to watch for Phoebe. Fortunately she didn’t have to wait for very long. The sensations in her belly, butt, and boobs were itching at her brain, and she could even see herself slowly growing, millimetre by millimetre. It was as if her massive belly were rising like dough, and her butt too steadily widening, covering more and even hanging over the wall where she sat. The relief was palpable when she spotted Phoebe - swiftly followed by anger. “Hey asshole!”, Violet shrieked. Phoebe looked much the same as she had days earlier - long dark hair, heavy winged eyeliner, and a proud set of chubby tits atop a muffin top belly. Violet almost felt further victimised by how normal and calm she looked, totally unchanged compared to Violet’s severe transformation. There were a couple of girls with her - tall, blonde, slim women who all looked cast from the same mould. Big tits and puffy lips in high heels, though they didn’t seem very well practised in walking in them. Phoebe looked up at Violet’s shout, looking back impassively as Violet moved to storm over to her. Attempted to move that is, as Violet ungainly hopped off the wall, teetering unsteadily. Her balance was off with her new centre of gravity, and she couldn’t adjust with how much it had kept changing. Her newly thickened ass bobbed side to side as she drastically wobbled, with one hand on her belly and the other on the wall, but Violet kept her feet. She locked eyes with Phoebe again and waddled as aggressively as a person could in her direction. “We need to talk about how you’re going to fix me.” she insisted. Phoebe had a bemused expression, only emphasised by her distinctive eyeliner, any emotion carried by her eyes conveyed almost out to her ears. Violet realised with fury - Phoebe had no idea at all who she was. All of Violet’s suffering, her humiliation, her ruined body - Phoebe didn’t even recognise her apparent victim. Phoebe addressed her blonde airhead companions: “Go inside and occupy yourselves with some guys. I’ll see how you’re performing shortly.” This elicited some concerned expressions from the pair and they teetered unsteadily through the entrance - one looked to be clutching her torso fearfully. But Violet couldn’t unpack that now. Her fury a hair’s breadth from boiling over she snatched Phoebe’s arm and dragged her a few metres away and into a neighbouring alleyway where they could be somewhat private. “Don’t get me wrong I’m flattered, but I think you have me at a disadvantage?” quipped Phoebe nonchalantly. “Alright bitch, you’ve had your fun. Quit messing with me and take back what you did. I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing but I will beat the shit out of you until you reverse it!” growled Violet. Much as she wanted to yell and scream, she wanted to avoid drawing a crowd who might witness her as swollen as she was. She got right up in Phoebe’s face, confident she would jog her memory. “Love to sweetie - who the fuck are you?” Violet’s face dropped as her rage spiked again, and she grabbed Phoebe by both arms and shoved her into the wall. Without quite intending to, Violet had subsequently pinned Phoebe there with the expanse of her belly. “Stop fucking around you cunt! You’ve fucked with my body and almost fucking ruined my life!” Angry tears began to well in Violet’s eyes. Her voice cracked, but she pressed on. “You were being a prick at my work a few nights ago and couldn’t hack it when I got real and told it like it is. You stormed off, but, I don’t know, you pulled some supernatural bollocks and did this shit to me!” Violet forcefully grabbed both sides of her belly. It was only at this moment that Phoebe seemed to realise that she wasn’t being accosted by an overweight woman, but by someone who was pretty drastically disproportionate. Phoebe’s eyes slowly widened as she took in Violet’s dimensions. Violet kept on going. “Whatever the fuck you did, you’re going to undo it right fucking now. This week has been a complete nightmare and I’ve never been as humiliated as this - and it’s all your fault you bitch!” Phoebe kept looking Violet up and down, and all of a sudden, finally seemed to react. She firmly grabbed Violet’s tits. “Ow! Fuck!” Violet stumbled backwards, freeing Phoebe from being squashed against the alley wall, hugging her boobs. Her ever more tender boobs ached like hell from Phoebe’s touch, and clutching them only seemed to elicit a hearty giggle from Phoebe. “Ah, yes. Now I’m starting to remember.” Phoebe chuckled. “What the shit is wrong with you?” Violet spat. Her tits ached, the painful feeling not ebbing away as it should. “You’ve ruined my body! I was hot and you were jealous - make me skinny again and I won’t beat the shit out of you.” Violet started to square up. She knew how to throw a punch, and was angry enough to think she could figure out the rest as she went. “Why should I change you back? Are you not enjoying indulging yourself, piggy?” Violet swung for Phoebe. She lost control and was going to do this the hard way. Until her fist involuntarily stopped in midair a few inches from Phoebe’s face. An ice cold feeling began to settle in Violet’s stomach as she realised she might be out of her depth. Phoebe tutted. “You know I should apologise really, my memory of the other night is a little blurry. When I cursed you to blow up into a fatty like this, what was it that I said again?” Violet tried to flee. This was a mistake, she quailed. But she only made a quarter of a turn before her legs stopped obeying her again, freezing her in place. Phoebe laughed an ugly deep chortle as she walked around to stand in front of Violet, locking eyes again. “Come on chubby, help us both out. Curses are particular and I can’t remember exactly what I said to turn you into a fatty.” Once again Violet found herself panicking, desperate to escape, but her body wouldn’t obey her. Phoebe clapped her hands in Violet’s face: “Come on tubby!” “...something … I think you said … I’ll show you chubby, you cow?” Violet muttered through her trembling jaw. She now knew she’d vastly underestimated her situation, and that there was nothing she could do about it. Phoebe laughed in Violet’s face. “Wow, on the nose, even for me. Seems like my curse really put you through the wringer these past few days huh? Humbled you maybe?” Violet’s wide eyed fear was evident. Was this all that Phoebe wanted? Hesitantly, she nodded in reply. “Well, I’d better finish you off then,” Phoebe calmly stated. She held up her palm towards Violet, still frozen to the spot, a shimmer like a heat haze enveloping her hand. Then she leaned forward, pressing her hand against Violet’s massive belly, and Violet immediately began to feel the effects. The ice cold fear in Violet’s stomach immediately became a sensation of frozen black panic in her whole body. Her heart rate skyrocketed as she began to hyperventilate. Violet could feel herself swelling. Everything, everything was swelling. Her hands flew to her sides, her belly, her boobs, all moving and all growing under her clothes. They were the first things that she could see expanding with her own eyes - her fingers and wrists thickening with fat, becoming pudgy and inflexible. But they kept going beyond that, becoming clumsy sausage fingers, and further fattening still. Her jaw went slack at the sight of her hands, giving way to the new sensation of fat forming around her face and neck. She could feel it materialising in her cheeks, her face sagging downwards to her neck and merging with a profound double chin. Her entire neck barrelled out with fat and obliterated her jawline. Her entire head felt like it was sliding into her fleshy collar and shoulders, which too were growing, bulking, widening. The fat continued to drip down into Violet’s formerly slim arms which immediately exploded in volume - the sleeves of her baggy hoodie now sitting taught on fat, sagging biceps, threatening to burst clean out of her top if she bent her arms too far. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to die. Her body wasn’t hers any more. Violet knew herself as skinny, she liked that she was skinny. She wasn’t some disgusting fat blob! But the expansion didn’t relent. The stretchy leggings she was wearing began to stretch further and further - she felt seams begin to pop on her calves, then by her knees, and then lots began to pop up her thighs as they too blew up. Her thighs slammed into each other and started to force her legs further and further apart in a fight for more room. Cold crept across her inner and outer thighs as her leggings tore holes where her fat legs could no longer be contained. She was beginning to struggle to stand with this weight on top of the rest. And then the silver lining that was her thickened ass met its fate. Violet, nearly numb with horror, felt dizzy as her centre of gravity lurched backwards as her butt plumped and grew and shot outwards. Her flabby hands tried to steady herself and met a shelf of warm flesh rising up her lower back. More tearing could be heard as her butt widened far beyond her former proportions. Her hands simply couldn’t keep pace as her ass blew up out of control. This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t possible. It was all some maddening nightmare that wouldn’t end, all of her worst body image fears coming true at once. But she could feel every centimetre of flabby flesh - it was truly part of her body, and still growing. She needed to run, or fight, or anything, but the terror gripped her very core. Even her already massive belly wasn’t spared, to her utter disgust. Already much larger, much wider, and more voluminous than a full-term pregnancy, Violet felt her fat tumbling forward as new rolls developed and expanded. She even tried to look away but literally couldn’t fail to see her sides plumping out, her love handles chunking up. Suddenly her belly felt cold as its colossal size popped free of her clothes. Unrestrained it continued to swell, forwards, sideways, even downwards across her huge thighs. Violet wasn’t sure that she could breathe. It was all too much. She was in shock at the utter transformation that had been inflicted on her, the violation of her entire body - even her feet were straining against shoes that were now too small on her fat feet. But bizarrely her frustratingly average boobs were unchanged. She felt her legs going weak. As her vision began to go fuzzy from not breathing, as Violet’s panic fully overflowed, suddenly the ongoing tenderness and aches in Violet’s boobs snapped. She saw her chest wobble and it began to grow too, but this was different. Her boobs bloated up fast, growing wide across the new width of her body and projecting forward atop her gigantic middle. Her quaint 32B bra stretched and dug into her flab, eventually snapping once her boobs were comparable to fat watermelons. But they wouldn’t stop. She felt her centre of gravity pitching forward now as they continued to swell over her belly, beginning to sag over both sides of it, but continuing to widen until they pressed against each other without any support. But they still weren’t done. Violet felt hot streams of moisture running over her belly and onto her legs. Gushing streams in fact. And a sharp tingling that made Violet gasp deeply and finally breathe. It was coming from her tits. She was lactating. It flowed from her nipples in warm rivers and had immediately completely soaked the front of her clothes. The smell was sweet and warm too - without a doubt this was milk. Milk from her. Out of her. And the feeling as it flowed was abhorrently pleasurable, her nipples pulsing second by second with fresh bursts of hot milk and an electric feeling running straight through her each time. She tried to grab her tits over her clothes and cover her nipples, as though that would somehow stem the flow. Though her hands made it, without much room to spare, her tits had expanded to such an horrendous scale that she struggled to grasp her breasts and hold them in any meaningful way, only buffeting them and causing them to gush more milk. Violet moaned and pitched forward further - sickened that there was pleasure in the sensation. She became aware of her surroundings again as a repetitive sound broke through her shock. Laughter. Phoebe was doubled over, cackling at the sight of Violet’s enormity. She was, in fact, crying with laughter, as Violet remained frozen in abject horror. “Dear god, what a fat fucking cow you are! And my my how you’ve grown, I didn’t know I had it in me!” Violet’s legs were screaming under the strain of her massively increased weight. Phoebe continued laughing. “I mean just wow, look at how huge you are! I think you’ve hit never-skinny-again levels of massively fat. Oh I’m good! Phoebe gave herself an exaggerated pat on the back, then whipped out her phone and started recording a video of Violet, circling around her huge bulk as she teetered and barely kept standing. I can’t stay like this. I can’t let her leave me like this. Through her hyperventilating, Violet managed a plea: “P… puh… please…” Milk dribbled onto the floor of the alleyway, beginning to pool around Violet’s feet. Phoebe stopped recording her video and considered Violet for a moment, Violet’s eyes begging. Phoebe reached a hand out and squeezed the base of Violet’s right tit, squeezing up to her nipple and feeling a fresh torrent of milk burst through Violet’s clothes. Violet screamed in pleasure and in fear, and finally her knees gave way. She fell to her knees and tumbled forward onto her enormous belly, and immediately then onto her huge boobs, causing them to gush once again down her front. Violet moaned, long and hard. A puddle of milk had formed around the colossal woman. Phoebe burst into laughter once again, turning and walking out of the alleyway as Violet watched through hazy tearful eyes. --- https://www.deviantart.com/youshouldbingeeat

https://www.deviantart.com/youshouldbingeeat --- It was the buzzing in her head that was the first thing to register when Violet woke up. She'd drank… quite a lot? The whole evening was a blur, and now she was paying the price, she guessed. The buzzing was really overwhelming, pounding rhythmically in her head over and over. Oh. She opened her eyes to see her phone beside her in bed, ringing. Her manager's number. The time was already 1pm, she should have been at work by now! Purely as a reflex she attempted to jump out of bed in a scramble to get ready. But her belly held her down, knocking her flat on her back before she even got halfway to standing. The events of the last few days crashed through her brain again, sleep having been a blissful escape from her condition. But her belly's sudden, rapid, massive growth, then her embarrassment at work, and her disastrous audition and following binge all flashed through her mind, freezing her to the spot in her bed. And binge she had. Looking around her bedroom Violet could see yet more evidence of her gluttony in pizza boxes, wrappers, crumbs. The debris of a truly epic feast. The remnants piled high - how on earth had she managed to get so much food inside of her? How much money had she spent in her stupor? The proof was right there on her body though. With a trembling hand she pressed against a belly that had had yet another growth spurt through the night, and as she sat up she whimpered seeing the thing now nearly at her knees. Wider around her torso than a beach ball, she could feel it sitting on the bed either side of her legs too. She experimentally gripped the flab where it sat on her mattress, only to pull her hands straight back to her chest in disgust. Violet couldn’t fathom that this thing was attached to her - was her. But the bingeing had made matters worse. She could feel it on her whole body, her arms, thighs, and face. Pudginess. Not much, but a noticeable layer of fat had formed across her whole body. Her phone was still ringing, but she knew she couldn't answer. She was so terrified that she wasn’t sure she could speak, much less explain: "Sorry, I can't come in, I'm blowing up fatter by the hour,". Somehow she didn’t feel that would fly as an excuse. Violet didn't think she could even be on her feet for long enough, nor carry plates around the restaurant. And she quailed at the thought of trying to fit into her work clothes either. Could she fit into any of her clothes at all now? She would have to gamble that she wouldn’t be fired before she could fix her body. It was hard to get up from her bed. She had to place both arms on her bedside table, slide her hips forward, and lean heavily on the table to muster her swollen body to a standing position. It took all of her focus to prevent herself from wobbling hard and losing her footing as she ambled and waddled to her mirror. Somehow she was still shocked enough to let out a small scream at what she saw of her naked reflection. Puffy cheeks, the beginning of a double chin, flab around her upper arms. She studied her boobs to see if they at least had finally grown some. Maybe? They felt a little heavier and more tender than usual, but she knew it could be her imagination. What definitely wasn't her imagination was the thick crease in her flesh that ran across her waist, giving her a double-belly. She could feel her fat rolls, the warm skin resting against warm skin. She turned to the side to see how her belly projected in front of her well over a foot, maybe 2 feet away from her torso, covering a third of her thighs. Not that she was in the mood, but she wasn't sure if she could reach her pussy any more to her dismay. The only silver lining was her ass finally having some thickness, having puffed up to what she saw as a healthy size and shape. Her thighs too. This wouldn't be so bad if the rest of her body had changed like that, she mused. But god, she felt heavy - her belly was pulling hard on her back, right above her hips. Violet already desperately wanted to sit and rest. She was morbidly curious, but did she dare step on a scale? She knew she had one somewhere, although she knew it wouldn't really help much to know how serious her situation was. Even if she stopped growing right now, it would take years of her life to shed this much weight. And yet she was still morbidly curious. It was a good thing it wasn't hard to find, as she didn't have the energy to thoroughly search her flat. She was dramatically huffing and puffing, sweating and red-faced by the time she had dug it out from the bottom of her wardrobe, a relic from when she had had a passing interest in fitness. She remembered rolling her eyes when she bought the scales, looking at the maximum 350 lb limit the device had. She gulped. The last time she had weighed herself she had been about 120 lbs. She held her breath as the digital readout climbed past that, then kept going, and kept going, and kept going. 275 lbs. Holy fuck. She had more than doubled her weight in just a few days. Her belly alone now weighed over 100lbs. Her head swam and she realised she was still holding her breath. She dug her fingernails deep into her belly fat as though she could tear it off, but her fingers simply sank deep into the pillowy flesh. She trembled, eyes welling at the thought she had become morbidly obese in mere days with no solution in sight. She needed to find the girl who did this to her, no matter the cost, and while she could still move. Her stomach loudly growled, but Violet knew she couldn't indulge any further. So it was back to trawling social media in the hopes that she could find that goth girl. She roamed the dating sites, social media pages of clubs in her area, and she even tried trawling Reddit for London-centric goth topics. Hours went by with nothing to show, lying along the sofa with her belly drooping off the side. But she couldn't give up, there were always other avenues to search while she munched. Munched? She had a huge sharer bag of crisps in her arms that she couldn't remember buying. It was already nearly empty, the crumbs on her chest clearly indicating she'd been unconsciously stuffing her mouth. The debris from last night's binge eating had piled even higher, seemingly she had continued to splurge on takeaway on autopilot. Violet really tried not to panic at how out of control her eating was. She had to put the food down and focus on her search. She had to. But her hand kept dipping into the bag and shoving crisps into her mouth. And she kept eating, internally screaming to stop, before she got even fatter still. She could already see the flab on her upper arms was just a little bit thicker than it was this morning. But it was completely involuntary. Hand, mouth, chew - hand, mouth, chew, entirely on autopilot. And her stomach could not be sated. She tried to continue her search, nearly hyperventilating with fear, but regularly her hands took over and ordered more fattening food from the delivery apps, and Violet was totally unable to stop herself. Please, not another burger, she thought as the afternoon wore on and she relentlessly stuffed herself. No, no more pizza! She begged and pleaded, hour by hour, both in her mind and out loud to no avail. Even as she finished her third whole pizza her phone buzzed with the arrival of a fourth. The sofa she was lying on was starting to groan and creak as she began to crush the cheap thing. She despaired at what this was doing to her bank account, but what it was doing to her body was infinitely more distressing. She could only watch, seeing in her wrists and fingers that the changes slowly trickled on. Ultimately, only one thing snapped her out of her unwilling gluttony. A ping on twitter from what must have been her 50th search, perhaps more. It was the girl for sure, she would recognise that heavy winged eyeliner and chubby tits anywhere. She had actually found her. Maybe there was a fix after all? Phoebe Tomkinson. She was going to pay. --- https://www.deviantart.com/youshouldbingeeat

https://www.deviantart.com/youshouldbingeeat --- She had strongly, strongly considered cancelling the audition, but Violet wasn't one to be defeated so easily. This opportunity had taken months to arrange and could be her big break on stage, so she couldn't just let that go. So with courage from the beer and a comfortably full stomach from the ice cream she had rolled into bed determined. Her belly, however, rebelliously continued its expansion. As she awoke, lying on her side, she felt her weight pulling hard into the mattress, and it was a serious struggle to sit up. The sensation of her belly sitting heavily, a round blob reaching more than halfway up her thighs, shocked her wide awake. The confidence she’d had just hours earlier wavered. Could she hide this? Could she make herself look normal for the audition? Her whole body still remained skinny, but her belly was absolutely massive, clearly larger than a full-term pregnancy and her rolls around her waist highlighted the widest point on her body by far. But she could handle this, or so she kept telling herself. This wasn't too bad, and if she got this big this quickly then she could shrink as fast. Surely. Yes, that must be the case, she promised herself. Violet found she couldn’t stand normally, instead having to rock back and forward on her mattress to build up momentum. To add insult to injury she tried to walk to her wardrobe but had to settle for waddling. Her plan was that there had to be something in here that could mask her bulky size, some oversized jumper or hoodie. But her belly sagged on to her thighs, her legs needing to push and lift against its weight as she walked, and ruling out most of her wardrobe as the bottom of her belly would still hang out the bottom of most of her clothes. Not that most hadn't already been ruled out. There was ultimately only one outfit that was even remotely decent enough to go outside wearing. She tucked what she could of her belly behind the waistband of some leggings, then combined her outfit with a hoodie from university. She remembered having had to settle for an XL as they had run out of everything else, and this at least wouldn’t display her massive middle to the world. If she wasn't so good at denying what her eyes were telling her she would see that she still looked super bulky, and in the baggy clothes appeared both fat and maternal. But what Violet told herself she could see was an effective disguise, one that would last until she found the girl that did this to her and beat her until she reversed it. And with that, she set off to her audition. Pushing herself to go back to taking the tube might have been a mistake. As usual she'd had to run, or more like a quick-waddle, to catch the train only to find the lunchtime rush was in full swing - every train was standing room only. Violet had to push herself into the throng of people to get on at all, but then her belly was pressed up against some young city bankers with mortified expressions. She avoided their gaze as best she could. They however looked her up and down with complete disgust as the train sped on, one whispering to the other while looking directly at her. All they could see was a very overweight young woman wearing a massive, faded university hoodie, sweating and panting with her rolls pressing hard against them in the crowd. Their disdain was plain on their faces but Violet couldn't let it get to her. She had an audition to nail. She kept repeating that to herself even when an unknown hand snaked its way out of the crowd and deeply fondled her fat rolls below her belly button, squeezing her unfamiliar flesh slowly and sensually. Her face snapped to a sunset red and she tried to slap the hand away, but her belly’s sheer size threw her off and blocked her from reaching the stranger’s hand in the crowded carriage. Pushing into her belly it sank frighteningly deep into her soft flesh, running unknown fingers across her lower belly, frighteningly close to her pussy. Violet could barely breathe with her shock. She tried to back up into the carriage but the throng of people around her wouldn’t budge, trapping her with the stranger. They gently pinched her fatty mass below her waistband before they patted her belly, seemingly satisfied, and disappeared. Her face continued to burn a deep red with her humiliation. She cast her eyes downwards, horrified at the prospect of making eye contact with her belly’s admirer. Her stop was coming up soon. She reminded herself to focus. Just get through the audition and then you can get turned back to normal. No more belly. Despite being very literally weighed down and not being able to keep the pace she normally could, she got to the audition on time. A tall, blonde, stereotypically pretty receptionist greeted her and walked her to the waiting room, all the while giving her an expression that screamed "Girls like you don't have a chance." Again this would normally be a situation where Violet would clap back with equally if not more catty behaviour, but after her humiliating journey she only managed a mumbled thank you and a waddle into the bathroom to check her appearance. Not her finest look, Violet thought to herself, but her performance would shine through. Maybe just tie back the hair that was looking greasy from not washing and the stress of the train ride, add a little lipstick to keep their eyes on her face, and just a little...was her face puffier than usual? Turning her head from side to side, she tried to judge if her face looked fatter. She settled on telling herself to stop being silly, her belly was the problem and it was just making her paranoid. She looked... presentable, in her mind, but the cracks in her confidence and denial were beginning to appear. "Alright, Violet, reading in for the part of Corinne. Great to see you, whenever you're ready." said the man who had walked her in. He hadn't bothered to introduce himself, nor the other two people sat opposite scrutinising her, but again, Violet couldn't let anything bother her. Focus, time to bring her best game. And so she performed the piece just as she had practised, hitting every beat with emphasis and delving deep to bring out every bit of nuanced emotion, wringing out everything this script could offer with all of the skill she had. And then for extra oomph of her final lines she stood up, which is where it all went wrong for her. The gaze of each of the three people watching her perform dropped to her belly in unison, where all three could see the baggy hoodie draped over some massive, round protrusion from Violet's torso. They may not have noticed her as she walked in, and while sitting down she just looked lost amidst baggy clothes, but they couldn't take their eyes off her now. Standing up showed them the heavy belly drop from resting on her thighs. Not a single one of them heard her deliver the final lines of her audition. "Wow… a tremendous display of talent." managed the first man after an awkward pause. A shorter fellow with greying hair, he finally met her eyes again. "Yes, really promising performance from an actress your age." said the middle-aged woman in the middle, still staring at Violet's belly unabashedly. "Unfortunately," she continued, "I don't think we can offer the part to someone as far along as you. We want to take this production on tour for the next six months, and we can't ask you to do that as a new mum." And before Violet could stop herself she blurted it out. "Oh, um, I'm not pregnant." She should have known it wouldn't help. The three on the panel were momentarily speechless, but then the third person spoke up, another middle-aged woman with clear cheek and lip fillers. "Well regardless of, or I suppose because of, I'm afraid you really don't have the look to be Corinne. We want someone graceful and… conventional, I'm afraid. It's a real shame, you have tremendous promise as an actress but I don't think there's much demand for your body type. I think dieting would help your career, truly. Anyway, best of luck!" And like that she was ushered out by the first man, a hundred biting retorts on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't bring herself to speak. Her anger had manifested fully by the time she got home however, slamming the door of her flat with takeaway food piled high in her arms and making a beeline for the beer in the fridge. Absolutely seething, she had stopped at two different takeaways for comfort food without even thinking and just too angry to stop herself. She wasted no time in getting comfortable, chugging a beer and tearing into the wings and burgers she had to her side. How dare they? She had struggled for years to get to where she was now, and they set her aside because of her belly that shouldn't even be there? How could they be so superficial and shallow? She had another slice of pizza and opened another beer. She raged at the elitism of those pricks. What do they know? Didn't her performance matter more than her body? She stuffed her mouth with cheesy chips. Another beer. That fucking goth girl. In her hazy drunken state Violet's anger still circled back to the girl. It was all her fault! She had messed with Violet's body and blown her chances at her big opportunity. Violet had to make her pay. After she started this pizza. She had a moment of lucidity through the rage and booze - how many takeaways had she ordered? Around her lay a dozen half-empty boxes from different shops, and her phone was buzzing with another delivery arriving. Had she really ordered all of this? How was she eating it all? Her stomach growled loudly as though she hadn't eaten all day despite the clearly evident binge. How could she still be so, so hungry? Her phone continued to buzz with the next food delivery. While she wobbled to her feet to go and get it, the lucid side of her tried to stop herself, but was growing ever quieter. This new development was not good. --- https://www.deviantart.com/youshouldbingeeat

https://www.deviantart.com/youshouldbingeeat --- Travelling on the tube wasn't something Violet could face in her current condition, so she was forced to take a taxi. She bundled the clothes she'd arrived in over the gap where her belly had burst her shirt open, simply accepting how maternal it made her appear. She could feel how far she had to reach to do so, and how much her arms sank into the fatty mass of her belly. It was impossible to ignore that it lacked any tautness or firmness like a pregnant belly, and that it sank low and even hung over her belt now. She couldn’t make sense of her situation and it terrified her. She did her best not to hyperventilate through the taxi ride, avoiding the usual chat taxi drivers make. The rest of her body was as obviously skinny as it had ever been, but her belly wouldn't be out of place on someone clearly obese. Not only had she become disproportional, and fast, but was verging on deformed as far as Violet thought. While she had quietly wished for curves that never materialised throughout her adulthood, here she was somehow both not curvy and very fat. Her mind kept slipping back to the goth girl who she'd insulted. "I'll show you chubby you cow…", with a pointed jab at her stomach. Violet had to remind herself that she was a rational person - that she didn't believe in the supernatural in any way, much less people being cursed to get fat. But all the same she couldn't explain the changes her body had gone through in the past few days. As a final indignity to round out her day, it took 3 attempts to get out of the taxi. Violet had to rock her body back and forth to get enough momentum, worsened by how much flexibility she had lost as her belly expanded. She nearly forgot to pay the driver in her fluster, and she could feel his stare follow her middle as she shuffled away. Luckily she lived alone. Her flat was small like any flat in London, and the area she lived in was far from the best, but it was affordable and gave her the privacy she craved. The moment she stepped through the door she stripped down to her underwear, desperate to be free from the tightness of her clothes. Time to assess the damage. It was not good. The projection of her belly is what struck her first, just how far it extended forward away from her. Long gone was any chance of seeing her feet, even leaning forward her rolls bunched up blocking her view. She pressed her hands into the sides of her belly. The very notion that her belly had sides now made her light-headed. Her hands sank deeply into the soft, doughy flesh. Part of her hoped the heaving dome would deflate like a balloon when she squeezed, but no such luck. Just the jiggle of a very large gut. She needed to see her reflection. Moving toward the mirror in a daze she felt how the new weight pulled her forward without a belt on. It couldn’t be ignored that she was forced to adopt just a slight motherly waddle. Deep breaths, she told herself, and looked in the mirror. Most of her body was frustratingly, alarmingly normal, making her condition all the stranger. She still had her skinny shoulders and hips, small but proportional boobs, slim arms and legs, and no ass to speak of. And then this gross, bulging, flabby belly flared out from her torso, feeling comparable in size to a full-term pregnancy but clearly not. It hung lower, it lacked the tautness you see in pregnancy and, the most telling, she was beginning to form a double-belly with her rolls like you see on a person who is truly obese. Her waist had suffered a similar fate, with distinct rolls bunching around her side under her bra straps. These topped her flanks that bulged most noticeably of all, seriously disproportionately wide on her narrow frame. Even from behind, the colossal mass was obvious. She was too shocked to even cry. Grotesque would be the word she would choose, Violet’s only frame of reference being that she would describe herself like a bad photoshop. She felt disgusting, and heavy. Very heavy. The only way she could get purchase on her belly to lift it and take the weight was by hunching forward, only exaggerating her hefty rolls. This was all too much. This was beyond a weird medical issue. In just a couple of days she had gone from a flat stomach to hugely obese - but only her belly. She had to fix this, but how? Doctors would surely think she was insane. Dieting and exercise could take months if not years, and she needed a solution now. Something was seriously wrong, and the only thing she had to go on was a ** goth she had only met in passing. How could Violet ever begin to find her in a city the size of London? She needed to focus. Control her breathing, and reduce her panic. She needed something to drink. And something to eat - like it could do any damage now to indulge in comfort food, she told herself. And so in moments, she had a beer in hand and a tub of ice cream beside her. She trawled social media in hopes of finding this girl. She tried looking at maps of bars around where she worked where the goth girl might go regularly. She even tried to look up stuff online about people being cursed to gain weight, but only found bullshit, and fetish content. But she couldn’t give up, there had to be some way to find her. Ding. A calendar notification. Her big audition was tomorrow. Oh crap. --- https://www.deviantart.com/youshouldbingeeat

Chapter 3 Waitressing was a welcome distraction from her body image stress - she could just run plates of food to tables, chat to her workmates and turn her brain off. Her confidence was reasserting itself thanks to the distraction, allowing her to occasionally flirt with her customers, and sometimes deploy her signature snarkiness on others, which she at least believed was very effective on both counts. She passed several hours managing not to think about her abrupt weight gain and continuing to be in denial about how snug her shirt was getting around her belly. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. She was lurking outside of the kitchen pinching the odd bit of food that was going spare when one of her managers came around, telling her to get back out there and clean some tables. Her penance for being late for the umpteenth time in a row, or something along those lines, as Violet wasn't truly listening. Though her managers weren’t paying attention either - none had paid the slightest notice to how their employee had gone from tiny and boyish to sporting what resembled a heavily pregnant belly in just a couple of days. For what felt like the millionth time in a row she tugged her shirt down where it was riding up and trying to escape from being tucked under her belt. It was a losing battle, as by now less than a centimetre of material could reach, the rest having shifted up to reach around her expansive middle. Her belt was struggling just as much, as even though only her belly had grown, it had grown so much it pressed heavily downwards and strained quietly on her buckle. Squeezing out from behind the bar, she lazily bobbed over to start clearing tables. This was her least favourite part of the job; handling other people's dirty glasses and cleaning their mess. People are animals, she mused, just as she did every time she had to do this. Though it did provide more opportunities for her to be snarky to the guests. Her mind wandered to some of her most cutting digs as she carted glasses from the tables back to the bar. She had landed some wonderful backhanded compliments as well as some direct insults where she thought she could get away with it. Were the drunks easy targets? Did she care even if they were? Just the other night, for example, there was that big goth girl with the heavy winged eyeliner. The girl was sat at the bar and had been flirting with a couple of men she had met here, but she hadn't gotten anywhere. Through slurred words the girl had swung between bragging about her looks, drowning her sorrows, and back again as Violet had busied herself around her. Violet was prone to one or two behind the bar herself with her workmates, and this night was no exception. Violet had said something particularly sharp, what was it she had said? Something about cutting back on the drink and cutting back on the food, and she would do better with guys? The goth girl had an obvious and hefty muffin top which Violet thought very unflattering, as well as an easy target. It was meaner than she usually came out with, but she did get like that when she was tipsy. But that couldn’t have anything to do with her current swollen situation, Violet pondered. No way. Although, her snark hadn’t gone over well with the girl who had staggered to her feet and jabbed a finger into Violet’s flat, washboard stomach, slurring something along the lines of “I’ll show you chubby you cow...”, and meandering out of the exit. She had skipped out on her bill too to the management's ire. But that couldn’t be responsible for her sudden growth, she told herself. That was the realm of fantasy, gypsy curses and voodoo. That stuff wasn’t real, right? People don’t get hexed or cursed except in fiction. But people don’t grow a belly as profoundly fat as hers in just a couple of days either. That amount of weight gain shouldn’t be possible, especially without an apparent cause from her lifestyle. Her head swam. A button popped off her shirt and skipped off the table in front of her. Looking down, she could see she had a stack of glasses tucked against her body, pulling on her shirt and adding just enough tension to break the already taut buttons open. There was a giggle from a group of 20-something girls at a table to her right, all of them looking right at the gap in her crisp white shirt where soft and doughy belly fat was visible. Her face went deep dark red in anger and embarrassment - but she said nothing. In any other circumstance she would clap back at the girls just as hard. But there were diamond-shaped gaps between the rest of the buttons around her middle and she could feel they wouldn’t last long either, so she made a tactical retreat to the bar, dropped the stack of glasses off and made a panicked dash as fast as she could manage back to the staff room. It was a good thing too, as the moment she rushed through the door the whole bottom half of her shirt split completely open. https://www.deviantart.com/youshouldbingeeat

Chapter 2 If Violet didn't know better, she would think she had somehow put on even more weight on her commute. By the time she stepped into the staff door she was again panting, her belly just slightly poking out of the bottom of her shirt as she doubled over to catch her breath. "I guess doing any exercise at all might be a good shout." she mumbled to herself - fitness had never been one of her passions. She began to heft her newfound bulk up the stairs. She could do worse than a waiter in a Covent Garden restaurant, she often had to remind herself. Better this than sitting on the sofa being lazy and getting fat, she would usually joke, but patting her hand against her bloated midsection it didn’t seem as funny. Her button-down shirt was sitting taught around her waist. It definitely had to be bloating. Nothing else could have her blow up so quickly as to be bigger even than when she left her flat. So she insisted to herself. Putting on her work uniform was not going well. Ordinarily, she would wear the slim-fit smart white shirt and waistcoat boldly on her thin frame, the combination with her tomboy looks giving her a semi-professional enthusiasm that went well with guests and her bosses alike. So she liked to think at least. The size small shirt must have shrunk the last time it was washed, she assumed, as even being bloated there was no way that it shouldn’t be able to fit. And yet it didn’t. Struggling, straining and sucking in, she wrestled with either side of the shirt but couldn’t get both sides to even meet, much less button closed. She hunched and squeezed, but her belly, no matter how much she squished it, wouldn’t yield enough to let her get dressed, leaving several inches between either side of her shirt at its closest. “For fuck’s sake.” A glance in the changing room’s mirror stopped her in her tracks. She almost didn’t recognise herself, but the locks of dirty-red hair and her freckled face couldn’t be denied. It was simply attached to a body that had swiftly morphed into something unrecognisable. She knew herself as skinny - she’s always been skinny, bony even. She held a hand to her forehead as she swayed unsteadily, this just didn’t make sense! Less than an hour ago she had compared her swollen body to a 6-month pregnant woman’s, and now she beheld her belly that was more like 7 months, maybe 8? No wonder people on the tube had been treating her differently! Panic began to rise as she cradled her hands against either side of her gut, horrified to feel warm flesh against her fingers as they sank in. Definitely real. A squeeze. Definitely soft. Very soft. It didn’t feel like bloating and definitely didn’t have the firmness of a pregnant belly. Was that even a relief? Her middle had absolutely exploded in size over the last day and a half and her growth only seemed to be getting faster. Realising she was slightly hyperventilating, she sat down, only at that moment realising her belly was sitting heavily atop her thighs. Her belly rested on her thighs now? Her stomach was flat just days ago! Now she had an undeniable pudge that shot forward under her boobs and strained her belt almost painfully. And yet her boobs, same as the rest of her, remained completely unchanged. Much as sometimes she’d idly wished to put on some weight, and gain some thickness in comparison to some of the women she liked, this was far, far from what she had wanted. This bulging, bulky, unavoidably fat belly that had appeared from nowhere was already disproportionate to her skinny frame, and now demanded attention where it jutted boldly outward. It felt alien and gross. She told herself to focus. Breathe. Don’t focus on your belly rising and falling with each breath. She closed her eyes. Ignore the feeling of your belt compressing your middle. Breathe. You just have to get through this shift, then you can make an appointment with a doctor. It couldn’t be more than very bad bloating really - nobody can gain a massive fat belly overnight. She opened her eyes, avoiding looking at the bulk of her belly, and avoiding paying attention to the extra effort it took to get back to standing. Her coworker Lizzie’s locker! She was quite a bit heavier than Violet, she must have a shirt that would fit. And with a little brute force, Violet popped the flimsy locker open and snatched one of Lizzie's shirts, wasting no time in chucking it on. She was late enough to start her shift on the restaurant floor as it is. No sooner had she thought that when Fran stepped into the changing room, having just finished her shift. Fran was slightly shorter than Violet with long dark hair and a chubby, bottom-heavy physique. “You’re late.” she dropped carelessly as she passed behind Violet. “I know.” “Management is pissed enough at you already Violet, it’s risky to keep doing this.” Fran offered, almost seeming like she cared. “I know.” Violet was fiddling with her waistcoat; her difficulties continued. “Attitude is everything you know.” Fran wryly smiled. “I know.” “Well then this conversation better work as a reminder.” muttered Fran, the veneer slipping. Violet turned to face Fran, finally dressed. Sort of. “Actually it only worked as a colossal waste of time, keep up the good work!” Fran didn’t hear a word, her eyes going straight to Violet’s waist, where her waistcoat was only closed, could only close by the top button, with an abrupt round belly sticking out. Even with the larger shirt which sat loosely around her bust and arms, the shirt was snug around her belly, just verging on tight and framed by the two sides of her nearly open waistcoat. “Woah. So that’s why you’re always late. Lazy pig. Should’ve guessed.” chuckled Fran, who turned and sauntered away. Red-faced, Violet tried not to think about how even given Fran’s chubbiness, Violet’s belly now far outsized Fran’s. This couldn’t go on. “I’m not fat!” she raged internally.

Hi folks, I'm writing a classic weight gain curse story over on DA - here's the first chapter: Violet's weight was skyrocketing. Tugging the small t-shirt down, no matter what she tried it wouldn't cover the proudly protruding potbelly she now sported. Utterly baffled, she wracked her brain for a cause - just two days ago she was her normal, skinny, tomboyish self. Looking in the mirror she expected to see her 5 foot 5 frame topped by shoulder-length brownish-auburn hair, narrow shoulders and hips with next to no curves, but out of nowhere her belly had exploded to proportions that would be normal for someone 6 months pregnant. Having been skinny her entire life, the sudden appearance of any body fat wasn't unwelcome, but the shockingly rapid growth and bizarre concentration solely on her belly was of massive concern. Her wardrobe would accommodate someone 20lbs smaller than she, not the bloated form she saw looking in the mirror. Tugging the small t-shirt once again, she sighed and gave up, throwing the shirt on the floor. "Couldn't some at least have gone to my boobs?" She murmured to herself, cupping the modest 32Bs, the same size they were two days ago, despite her sudden weight gain. Resting a hand against her middle she could feel this wasn't just a bad case of everyday bloating. She looked more round than doughy or flabby, however, she could feel softness instead of tautness when she pushed against the skin. She couldn't understand how she could have gained such a shocking amount of weight in a matter of days.Her diet had never been particularly healthy, and she hadn’t seen the inside of a gym in years, but she hadn’t ever really struggled with her weight before - her metabolism seemed to look after everything just fine. What the fuck was going on? Glancing at her phone she groaned, seeing the time and knowing she needed to be setting off for work or else be late, again. Her wardrobe held only small tomboyish t-shirts, button downs and vests, none of which would do much to hide her belly. She opted for a dark red button-down in the hopes that the way it bunched around her flanks would at least be less noticeable, but alarmingly the buttons around her navel were already snugly tight. With no time to raid her wardrobe for a better option, she quietly resolved to eat better, maybe go for a run, and nip this weight gain in the bud. She grabbed her bag and dashed out. Evidently, fitness was something else that had been impacted by her sudden expansion, she realised as she half-jogged to the station. She would generally run for the train as she was always running late, but now even quick walking was taking its toll, and she could feel an unfamiliar heavy wobble from her gut - swaying with her steps as she hurried along. Sweaty and out of breath, she managed to catch her train only thanks to someone holding the door for her as she dashed up the platform. Panting, she looked for a seat but none were available until a thin, kind-faced middle-aged man offered her his seat. Violet smiled but her face betrayed her slight confusion and surprise. He gave a knowing look to her swollen middle and muttered a quick "Congratulations" as he shuffled down the carriage. She looked down and saw she had unconsciously been cradling her belly in the same way a pregnant woman would, the buttons seeming to be under even more strain than when she left her flat just minutes ago. With her freckled face turning beet red at the realisation that her fat stomach was making her easily mistaken for a heavily pregnant woman, she took her seat. What was happening? She was thin and petite, and always had been until this week. And now her belly was nearly a separate entity from her torso, almost like a beer belly, while the rest of her was as thin as ever. Tugging on her shirt where it was riding up, revealing a glimpse of her plumpness bulging over her belt, she promised herself - she wouldn't let herself get any fatter. Whatever was happening with her diet or her metabolism, she was committed to putting a stop to it today. https://www.deviantart.com/youshouldbingeeat/ Hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think!

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