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WANNA MEET?

SURE, BE AT LUDOVICOS IN AN HOUR...

"Hey, I'm, uh, still here you know..."

Kimberlyn looked up from her phone and smiled, tucking her brown bob cut hair behind her ears to let her slate grey eyes focus on the man opposite her.

She knew he would match her. The eyes were her secret weapon in that regard, her ace. Her profile pic was deliberately close up, her face filling most of the tiny window, her bottom lip snared seductively between her teeth. Beneath that a dark fault line of cleavage snuck across the bottom of the picture, just a whiff of flesh to underscore the tones of sexual possibility that permeated the piece.

"I'm sorry, Garrett-"

"it's Andy."

She shrugged and looked back at her phone.

MAYBE MAKE THAT HALF AN HOUR... REALLY INTO YOU X

"You sure? Whatever."

She watched his face change from sulky annoyance to outright anger. She slipped the phone into her bag with a grunt of effort before leaning back in her chair slightly.

"Look, you clearly aren't into me, it was written all over your face the moment you walked in. I know I'm not what you were expecting, but you have no idea how hard it is for a woman in my condition to meet people and find a genuine connection. Do I not deserve that? Am I not allowed to find someone and feel just a little closeness, maybe a glimpse at what a normal life could have been?"

His expression changed again, this time to defensive embarrassment. He makes to protest, but she's found the crack in his armour and she's sticking the knife in for all it's worth.

"the moment you saw me you judged me, and you've not stopped the whole time you've been here. Every sideways look you shot me, every time I had to shuffle my seat, don't think I didn't see you staring... And not at these!"

She clasps her hands to her breasts, bulging against the sheer black material of her dress. Even in the low light of the Italian restaurant the dress is ever so slightly see through, the dark cups of her bra visible against the pale bosom they encase, though with a bulge of barely held back flesh above.

"at this."

She's leaning back to accentuate, arching her back in a deliberate and provocative fashion.

The dress blooms outward. The material is stretched, the elastine weave put to tremendously good use in both covering and showing her body off in simultaneously enticing and demure fashion. Beneath the swell her sizeable breasts she swells out yet further, the two of them borne aloft by a grand boulder of a stomach. At its apex, peeking out despite the hair fine layer of fabric over the top of it, is her belly button. Dark and deep, a hollow like a peephole into the very core of her.

He flushes red, not through anger. Beneath the table she swings one leg in a lazy backwards-forwards motion, she's played this game before and he's playing right into her hands.

"I was just getting my trust in men back after... Well, after this happened to me." she says with a tremor in her voice as she strokes the fulsome bowl of her stomach, bobbing between the two of them like some awkwardly surfacing whale. "and then you came along and made me feel like absolute trash. I wish I'd never bought this stupid dress or add such an effort, I really can't afford it with how much this is going to cost me soon..." she pats her tummy, affecting a maternal pose.

"I think maybe you should go." she covers her mouth with her hand as if to hide a sob, the slate grey eyes never leaving Andy.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to... I wasn't judging... I mean I don't..." he trips and stumbles over the words, caught in a labyrinth he cannot navigate, fighting to maintain even a shred of dignity.

"I mean I barely even have enough for cab fair home, I'll probably have to take the bus if there even is one, maybe I'll have to walk..." she dangles one of her shoes beneath the table from her plump, arched toes.

"I'll get the bill, really, it's the least I can do. I'll go and settle up... On the way out... I'm So sorry... I wish you the best of luck."

"hmmm, that's the first genuinely gracious thing you've done all evening." Kimberlyn huffs as he stands, awkwardly making his way out to the reception where the are reader will be waiting to devalue his bank account by a substantial amount.

She regards first the single plate in front of the place Andy so recently occupied before turning her gaze to the stack of plates in front of her own, the bulge of her stomach resting against the rim of the wide steak plate at the bottom of the heap, gently brushing up and down it with each drawn breath.

She checks her phone. NEARLY THERE, SO GLAD I SWIPED RIGHT ON YOU, HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR GOOD FOOD AND MAYBE MORE...

ALWAYS she replies, before patting the dome of her bulbous midriff. I'M ALWAYS HOPING FOR SOMETHING MORE she adds, trusting that like Andy as soon as he lays eyes on her his appetite will severely diminish.

She stands, settling heavily on her high heels. The Maitre D raises an eyebrow at her, but she only smiles back.

"Just need to powder my nose. There'll be another along in about ten minutes, make sure we get another good table..." she winks.

*****

Stephen was next to arrive. Not so mild mannered as Andy, though still not a challenge to deal with.

She makes sure to strike early, to really layer things on thick. She wedges a plump, purple nailed hand into the small of her back at her side, her fingers sinking luxuriously into the soft pillowy flesh that wobbles there, much as it does on quite a few places on her pampered body. She still wears heels, high ones at that, matching purple nails neatly aligned in the peep toe of her vertiginous footwear. She is a practiced hand at this, even in such shoes as these that require a fair amount of focus and concentration just to keep upright and in motion she manages to set her gait wide, an exaggerated waddle of a walk.

She can feel the eyes on her, every patron of the restaurant turning to stare. Some saw her with another man prior to this, but say nothing. For others, this I'd there first time laying eyes on the engorged figure that totters in, all high heels and jouncing breasts coupled with a vastly convex stomach that sways back and forth as it bobs toward a table at the side of the room, affording it a view of the whole restaurant and the whole restaurant a view of it. Her neat brown bob cut framing her round face and the excited smile on her face as she sweeps in to greet her latest date, apologising for arriving after him die to the non existent traffic she has not been sat it. She can feel them staring, the other diners. Good. It is good that they stare. They stare at her, something that her date surely cannot miss, and the embarrassment starts, the horror, the realisation that the woman they've been flirting with on and off for a few days or weeks or sometimes just smarter of hours is in fat one and the same as this tottering boulder of a creature in front of them now.

Stephen thinks, as they all do, tries to dredge up the memory of her profile pictures. Yep, same face, same eyes, same cheeky smile and god yes the same tits... But what devilry is this? What wickedness lies beneath?

She orders her appetiser and points out that he is staring. Stephen hides behind the wine list and awkwardly tries to ask if she wants anything to drink, though she takes offence at him offering a woman in her "condition" alcohol. He apologises, not for the dirt time. Her starter arrives, she spears each crab cake whole, dunks them in the sauce provided and parts her full lips to take each one whole. She gulps them down after a thoughtful chew and let's out a trill of delight, her hand subconsciously slipping to stroke the flank of her belly, waiting to feel it puff up ever so slightly as each morsel is added to the compacted mass of food that occupies the core of her bloat. Not just the earlier one, but those that came before, the dozens in the previous weeks, the hundreds in the previous months. Every day she grew, and with every date she expanded skittle bigger, a little rounder, a little heavier.

Appetisers gone, main course arrives. Sirloin steak. She loves the feeling of sharp knife on tender meat, the sawing thrum of the serrated blade, loves how the beef adds bulk to the ball of her ballooning belly and bloat her in a solid, weighty manner. It suggests long term change, with each forkful she shovels in her mouth she can feel the tick-tick-tick outward creep of her girth. This is her third date tonight, she was full hours go, now she's just adding inches. There is no room but that she makes, no space for food except that she takes. As she eats, she grows, and more than once she has to shuffle her chair back a little to allow her fulsome girth room to sit between her and the table. She enjoys her beef also because it is the second or third most expensive thing on the menu. She doesn't ord the most expensive, it'd make the later lie about her not having bus fair seem like a ludicrous statement coming from someone who just ate lobster and delicate prosciutto shavings with lashings of hand churned Dead Sea sun crystallised salt. Plus she doesn't like lobster all that much.

Conversation between her and Stephen stalls. It never really started, embers flaring now and then but nothing really catching. Kimberlyn smiles inwardly as she watches his eyes begin to wander the restaurant, looking at all the other couples enjoying their dates. Well matched couples. Attractive couples. Couples where one of them doesn't look like a parade float. She watches as his eyes settle, with a look of deep yearning, on a petite brunette with a slightly lower cut top than may be advisable for someone eating soup to wear. She watches his eyes dip as she does, gazing into the dark well that opens up between her tits as she leans in to slurp...

"Aren't mine good enough for you?"

He jerks his head marionette-fast with a wide eyed look of panic, caught red handed.

"I-I wasn't!"

Dessert arrives and she runs a finger around the rim of her plate, collecting a thin sheen of cocoa powder before sucking it off in a lingering, full lipped movement.

"I wish people would look at me like that, but all they see me as is something to pity. Ami not pretty any more? It's not my fault I got so fat..." She runs her belly for emphasis, the skin barely denting under her fingertips pressure, she delights as he squirms.

"no, you are.., you're pretty! You're not that fat..."

A mistake. Bingo.

"So I a fat?! Oh god, I'm a whale!"

She feigns sorrow and indignation, for a moment having to put down her fork. Her tiramisu goes unloved for the time being, but she is sure in her knowledge she will get to it soon...

"You're gorgeous, really, I... I'm sorry, I just wish you'd told me before we got here, I wasn't expecting you to be so..."

"So what? Fat? Ugly? Hideous?!"

She slaps it on real thick, her voice rising, hysterical. The restaurant is in deep hush now, everyone is listening to this argument while pretending to hear nothing at all. Dinner and a show.

"Well, you're pregnant! Did you not think you ought to mention something like that? It's false advertising, you're lying by omission!"

She puts a hand to her heaving bosom in indignation.

"Why, because that's such an easy thing to drop in to conversation? And if I had, you'd never have come and I'd have ended up here all by myself, is that it? You're a real piece of work you know."

"hey, I never said I wouldn't-"

She doesn't let him finish. She can sense the mood is against him in the room, she's got him on the ropes, time to really lay into him before the dramatic exit.

"You came here because you thought I was some cheap loose woman with no morels and no sense if my own self worth. You came here because you thought you could just take advantage of me because I'd be easy. You know what, I came here tonight thinking what a nice, warm hearted and generous person you were and how you'd be bound to accept me despite my condition and maybe we'd have a good time and it'd lead to something more. But I guess that's my fault for being an optimist and hoping, just a little bit, that something in my life might go right for once. I guess not, huh? I guess not."

Someone in the back of the restaurant makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a clap, but quickly stifles it. Stephen is bright red, not with anger but with embarrassment.

"I'm not... I mean I am,... I didn't... I don't think..."

He tries every avenue he can think of but none hold the redemption he seeks or the moral high ground he now finds very much lost to him.

"Maybe we'd better just settle the cheque and go our separate ways." she narrows her eyes and spoons another big bite of tiramisu into her mouth.

"I... I'll get this. It's the least I can do." Stephen offers, defeted, withdrawing his wallet in a last ditch attempt to save face. She smiles to herself, the game was well fought but it is done and won once again.

Check Mate.

*****

She pushes her chair back, waves off his offer of a helping hand and slowly waddles toward the washroom. He'll be gone by the time she emerges, of that she's sure.

She steers toward the ladies, barging open the door with a plump shoulder. The feeling of pressure pushing forward tells her that simply battering-ramming her way through it at this stage of her gluttonous evening would be a huge and potentially very costly mistake.

She stands for a moment and sways a little. Supporting such weight as hers on such narrow pointed heels is difficult at the best of times, by she is well and truly stuffed.

"oh god... I'm so fat! Mmmmmmmm..."

She waddles to the counter and takes a look at the damage. The dress is doing its best to cling to her mountain of a stomach, but the fight is being fought on more than one front. The bigger her belly swells, the more fabric it requires to stretch which must come from somewhere. The hem of her dress at the bottom has begun to rise. Slowly making its way up and up, revealing inches and inches of creamy thick thigh. She turns to see the view from the rear, if she bends forward even a little bit...

She watches as the two pale domes of her succulent ass cheeks appear, peeking out from beneath the hem.

"Any bigger and I'll have to start pretending to go into labour to get out of paying!" she giggles. She slaps her belly for emphasis, it lets out a low rumbling whine as she does so.

There is a flush from the cubicles in front of her. She hears the stall door behind her click and in the mirror watches a young man, early twenties perhaps, stroll out while zipping his fly before their eyes meet, him caught halfway to doing up his pants, her bent slightly at the waist with a hand on either side of her bulbous stomach, her bum clearly visible in the mirror behind her.

So glutted and food drunk is she that as she pushed open the door to the ladies, sidestepping her way through it, she didn't notice the CLEANING IN PROGRESS sign affixed to the door, nor the checklist on the wall indicating the cleaning schedule for the day and that today's inspections would be carried out by Cory.

"It's you..." Cory breathed, his voice catching in his throat as if staring at some fabled lost treasure, unearthed after years underground.

"Who the fuck are you, and how do you know me?" Kimberlyn doesn't move, aware that if she does so she will only draw attention to her bared backside.

"I'm Cory, I work here... I've seen you come in and out for a while now, you can't be far off due..." he motions to her stomach.

"I'm-" Kimberlyn is about to retort before her gut lets out a vast and resonant growl, causing her to jerk upright in surprise. The whole orb of it seems to bob almost weightless before her for only a second, before with a low THUMP and a liquid sloshing sound it settles heavily, low on her wide hips.

Both of their eyes settle on the still rippling behemoth as various digestive gargles creep out in their ones and shameful twos. The penny drops, and Cory realises something, a fact that has eluded him for some while.

"you aren't pregnant, are you? I mean, not really."

She cocks an eyebrow. "And you'd be qualified to tell me that how? As well as cleaning toilets are you a certified OB GYN?" her fists found her hips as her expression darkened.

Cory stepped forward and as bold as brass poked her in the centre of her tummy. Aside from the resistance two large meals could provide, his finger sunk into the pert surface in a way it really shouldn't have been able to. Her cheeks bulged dramatically, her face flushing green for a split second as she felt the pressure within her revolt at such treatment, her gut squirming and complaining loudly.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she yelped, swatting his hand away from her bulging abdomen.

"Admit it, you aren't pregnant. You're just fat." Cory said, coldly.

Kimberlyn puffed herself up to her full height, in the process pushing out her tummy to its fullest dimensions, adding a few inches to the already vast expanse of belly between them. She stepped forward, her quick movement causing Cory to flinch and she used this momentum to her advantage, pushing him backward with merely the threat of her colossal midriff.

"And what? What if I'm not? Who are you going to tell? Meanwhile all I have to do is whisper in your managers ear and you won't even last the rest of tonight, you'll be out on your ass. I may not spend a lot, but I bring in a heck of a lot of business, something I'm sure the boss is only too aware of..."

Cory backed up to the cubicles, his back colliding with them as the food inflated balloon of a woman waddled closer and closer still. He flattened himself backward, trying to put distance between him and the encroaching wall of stomach, but with nowhere left to go it was all he could do to breath in and try and make himself as small and thin as possible.

"all I have to say is that you accosted me in the bathroom, me, a woman in my "condition" and it'll be all over for you!" Kimberlyn took a malevolent step forward. Her belly bumped into his torso, her weight leant slowly more and more against him as she spoke. "Yull never get another restaurant job again! They might even have you arrest-" she stopped.

Something was poking her.

Gingerly she took either side of her bulbous gut in her hands and swayed it, back and forth, feeling the rub of whatever it was against her. There, beneath her belly button, something insistent jabbing into the lower slope of her mountain of fat tummy. She swung in a slow arc, if whatever it was happened to be a pen then she would have drawn a huge smile across the bulging face of her abdomen.

It wasn't a pen though. Her eyes narrowed.

"You dirty, naughty thing..."

Poor old Cory. He didn't know what to do, on the one hand he was terrified of the sudden loss of his job, the embarrassment, the shock. On the other hand, here was someone that to him was the very embodiment of a goddess, something dreams were made of and in fact had been several times. His body didn't know what to do, fight or... Well, fuck.

Kimberlyn felt a tensing pulse from the rigid cock thrusting into the underside of her stomach, and suddenly things made sense to her too.

"you wanted me to be pregnant, didn't you? You like that."

Cory's eyes were screaming, so wide they looked like the lids might peel his whole head open, but he nodded all the same.

She took a little step back and he relaxed with her, stepping away from the cubicle, hands still raised, not wanting to touch her.

"You've been watching me, haven't you? Watching me come and go, eating more and more and getting bigger and bigger and you believed it, didn't you? The lie. Everyone did, but rather than want to run... You wanted something else."

Cory nodded. "I... I think you're gorgeous, those guys don't know what they're missing."

Kimberlyn smirked at the compliment. As glutted as she was, she could always find room for flattery.

"I still can't believe you poked it though, my belly. That was very rude of you."

"I'm sorry!" Cory shrieked with almost hysterical abandon

"Calm down. You just need to say sorry."

"I'm... I'm sorry?"

She folded her arms under her bulging tits. "not to me, stupid. To her." she looked down to the bloat between them.

"I'm sorry" Cory whimpered, eyeing her engorged gut. She felt him twitch beneath her belly, her ripe and succulent fecundity.

"Kiss it better." she breathed, her voice little more than a pant.

Cory did as he was told. Slowly, he lowered himself into a kneeling position, his face level with the sheer fabric covered orb, tenderly he brought his lips to it and planted a soft kiss on its heaving, rumbling surface.

"Again..." Kimberlyn breathed.

Again he kissed it.

"Again... Again!" she murmured, rubbing the swollen circumference, her cheeks flushing pink. It had been such a long time since someone had paid her belly such reverence.

Cory kissed, as instructed, and as he did so his lips began to roam, moving away from the same spot to trek across this virgin land presented to him, savouring every unexplored inch of the vast plain.

"Lie down... Take off your pants..." Kimberlyn groaned, her hips bucking as she panted. Cory did as he was told. Laying on his back beneath her, her lags straddling him, he watched from beneath as she squatted down onto him. She lowered herself ponderously to her knees, her creamy white thighs parting to reveal the barest scrap of fabric, a pair of black French knickers stretched painfully tight over her plump sex. Once on her knees, she scooted herself lower until she could ease aside the black fabric of her panties and guide the tip of his cock into her, biting her lip to suppress a howl a she did so.

From this angle, she looked truly vast. Corey first rested his hands on the plump wobbling meat of her thighs, the bare flesh jiggling with each and every thrust of her fat wide hips. He crept his hands upward until they reached the hem of her dress. She didnt stop him, not as he took the hem between thumb and forefinger and allowed the forwards and backwards motion of her body to creep it up.

With each thrust it rose, inch by inch. Her belly rested on his chest, blocking his view of what was happening, much to their mutual delight, behind it's bulbous but obscuring girth. The dress crept up it's face, slowly revealing inch by inch the grandiose spherical swell of it. Slowly does it, every so slightly he inched upward, passed the circumference of her food packed stomach, the hem riding up until the deep black pit of her belly button hive into view. It bobbed up and down as she thrusted, her wobbling plump buttocks clenching with each squeeze, propelling the shaft deeper and deeper into the weighty fat woman perched atop it. To counterbalance the weight of her own tremendous stomach, she leaned back, grasping his thighs with her hands, her mouth flapping and gaping piscine like as she drove herself down on him with furious lust. Her back arched, her belly and breasts were stuck out and puffed out to their fullest degree. Beneath her, Cory's fingertips traced the spidery silver lines of webs of old stretch-marks that tattooed the face of this impossible, enormous bloat the quivered atop him, his eyes rolling back in his head despite his wish to record every grunt and movement of this incredible moment.

"Cum for me... Fill me up... Make me even bigger!"

They groaned and panted together, his hands roving over the massive facade of her gut, hers clamped to his thighs, supporting the weight of her own overstuffed body. Slowly their cries built, groaning loader, panting harder and harder until with a slashing cry from her and an arch of his back it was done. Deep inside her bloated body a warm splash flooded her, her whole body trembling and rippling as pleasure sparked and coruscated through each and every muscle.

They stayed like that for a moment, catching their breaths, before there came a loud and unexpected sound. Both pairs of eyes snapped open, but it was not the sound of someone trying the door, threatening to interrupt them.

A deep and resonant gurgle groaned out from the core of Kimberlyn's outrageous belly.

Cory propped himself up on his elbows, still pinned beneath her vulgar weight. "That sounds worrying, everything okay in there?" he ran an appreciative hand over the nearest surface of her bloated midriff.

"Fine, I'm fine, never better!" she scowled, trying to swat away his hand. She had to lean forward to do so, putting ever so slight pressure onto her tummy, causing more groans to issue forth from within her and a wince to mar her plump but pretty features.

"you don't sound fine..." worried, Cory jerked his hand back as he felt something shift within her. The huge volume of pressurised part-digested found bulking out her silhouette was trying to resettle itself inside her, her tummy shifting and distorting for a moment as muscles and organs fought valiantly against the sheer quantity she had crammed inside herself.

"Well I am!" she growled, despite an ugly sound from her belly. "just look at how huge I am, my belly is perfect!"

"it is... But it won't be if you cram too much into it and burst!"

It was a joke, but she didn't take it that way. "Burst?! You think my belly might burst?! Ha! Idiot! How dare you even suggest that!"

With a huff she scrabbled a hand up the counter and began to haul, a fresh barrage of worrying groans roared out of her thanks to the strain but she lifted herself, slowly but surely, off Cory and upright. She leaned heavily against the counter, huffing and panting, sweat beading her brow and rolling down the great curve of her cleavage.

"you men are all the same." she huffed, tugging her dress down as best she could to cover the troubled orb of her abdomen. "you look at me and you think I'm either going to give birth or explode! Why? I haven't burst yet, and I'm only getting bigger!" she slapped her tummy, trying to underscore her point, but the sudden stabbing ache nearly caused her to collapse, for a second the strength went from her thick legs and she nearly toppled over. Recovering her balance, she kicked off her shoes, deciding in her fully fattened state it might be more dangerous than it was worth to try and maneuverer her bulk in high heels. Her fat toes scrunched at the carpet, her dairy painted toe nails flashing in the low bathroom light.

"Take it easy! All I meant was you sound like you're struggling, maybe call it a night?" Cory's voice was full of concern, but her face darkened visibly.

"out of my way." she snarled as she pushed passed him, waddling to the door and out into the restaurant.

Outside of the bathroom the restaurant had begun to empty, the diners finishing their drinks, settling their bills and heading home, perhaps to the same kind of excitement Kimberlyn had experienced only moments before, right under their noses. The bloated brunette staggered out to see only empty tables, a few staff beginning to clean up. Damn! Stupid boy had kept her occupied far too long, she could have squeezed in another date in that time! She reached for her phone in her bag before a voice behind her stopped her.

"Kimberlyn?"

She turned. There at a table by himself was a handsome middle aged man, shaven headed with a salt and pepper beard and a blue suit. No tie, top button undone. He swirled a glass of red wine in one hand, his phone in another. She wondered for a moment how he had known her, before guessing he had merely set the dating app she too used to "nearest women" at which point she would have been top of the list, being barely twenty feet away.

"Who are you?"

"Fred." the man replied rather incongruously with an undisguised French accent. "I see you are, how to say, single and ready to mingle, as it were. Would you like a drink? Have you eaten yet?"

She was about to answer in the affirmative that she had even before a plaintive whine trickled out of her tummy. Fred's eyes flicked down to it for a second, before returning to her face.

Rather than warn her off, all she thought about in the wake of her tummy's protestations was Cory and what he had said. About to burst. Her! The whole notion was as ridiculous to her as spanx tummy control pants. Why control your tummy? What on earth would that accomplish?!

"S-something to eat?" she glanced around her, one hand planted firmly at her hip above the jut of her globular buttcheek, accentuating the bulge of her unsettled gut. "This place looks like it's closing."

Fred smiled and made a small 'no problem' motion with his hand. "They will make an exception for me. I dine here many times, this place knows how to treat her loyal customers."

Kimberlyn snorted. Her lips curled, poised to deliver some quick remark about how much of a regular customer she was, how the staff treated her, and how she knew some of them, one in particular, in quite intimate detail. She bit back the quip just in time, after all she didn't want to let on any detail of her little scheme.

"Never eaten here before, as it happens." she smiled instead, and taking her time with each step began the arduous process of waddling her way across the restaurant to Fred's table. It was a short distance, but a journey fraught with the peril of jutting table edges that could bash her poor tummy, unseen specs of food that may have been dropped, just waiting to make her slip over and land flat on her... Well, probably not on her face as there was a good deal protruding in front of her at this point.

She reached the table and pulled out her chair. Several waiters hurried over and with a grand flourish simultaneously whipped a sparkling snow white table cloth over the existing one, lit a small forest of tea light candles in the centre of the table, laid two fresh sets of cutlery and took her chair from her. She nodded an awkward thank you to the young woman who bade her sit. In her swollen state, anything other than perfectly upright or laid horizontal was a logistical nightmare of weight distribution, abdominal mass and maintaining balance in her heels.

She had to spread her legs a little to allow herself to lower to the chair. Her tummy bowed lower and lower as she dropped toward the chair in extreme slow motion, one hand braced on the chair back, the other on the table top in front of her.

"I guess it can't be easy, in your condition." Fred began, before plucking the bottle of sparkling water proffered to him by a waiter and pouring them a full glass each before setting the bottle on the table between them. Amidst the empty tables, theirs was a hive of activity.

"Can't be easy what? Finding a dress that'll fit?" Kimberlyn leaned back in her chair. She puffed herself out a little, the surface of her tummy rising an even inch, grumbling softly.

"meeting people." Fred finished, matching her gaze over the rim of his water glass. "it must be hard finding people not immediately... Put off."

This was firmer ground. Kimberlyn dredged through her stock answers, picking out which she'd use today. Tragedy, mixed with a little pity, was a powerful motive to loosen the purse strings of her dates.

"You know what, life isn't easy. Here I am, all by myself, trying to make ends meet as it is and get ready for the next few months. Still holding out hope that maybe tonight'll be the night, you know, the night I might meet the one."

There was something about the grin that momentarily broke his placid countenance. Something she couldn't put a finger on. However, at that moment food arrived. Food she hadn't even ordered.

"ah, lobster bisque." Fred rubbed his hands before lifting the small silver lid from his soup tureen. An identical twin was placed in front of Kimberlyn, when she lifted the lid she found it to be full up to the absolute brim with thick, creamy soup, what looked like half a load of fresh bread next to it on the plate.

It smelled of absolute heaven. And the taste? Divine. Greedily we began to slurp from her spoon, her movements getting quicker and quicker as she fought the urge to simply heft the tureen and pour the liquid down her glutted gullet. She grabbed hunks of bread inbetween spoonfuls, soaking them in the delicious broth before gulping them down just as quick as she could.

Fred watched, placidly, quietly. Taking maybe one spoonful for every ten she took.

She drained her soup in a few minutes flat, but as she did so things began to change. Some time during dinner number two of that evening, she had run out of room in her stomach to fit more food in, so had begun to expand with each and every mouthful. As she had previously discovered, the dress she had looked pretty much poured into when she had first wiggled into it that afternoon was meant for a waistline many times smaller than her current one, though hers kept getting bigger, whereas the dress did not.

As she ate, the hem rose. Little by little, it crept up her tabbed thighs, showing more and more of the soft, dappled flesh as it neared her ass. Cresting the curve of her cheeks, it slipped around her bum, unable to stay pinioned under her incredible weight any longer. Between the two wobbling orbs drew tight the fabric of a black laced pair of French knickers pulled taut and squeezed around her thick legs and bulbous butt, which was now on full show, the sides overhanging her seat.

Kimberlyn didn't care. She finished the last of the soup with a slurp, even as her stomach let out a stifled moan.

"Excuse me!" she giggled, patting her ballooned midriff. The surface did not give at all under her fingertips, tight and almost hard to the touch beneath the sheer fabric of her dress.

Fred placed his spoon on his bowl, indicating he was finished with his appetiser, "Are you having trouble? In there?" he pointed to her belly. Bobbing up from under the table, the black fabric of her dress clinging to it, making it appear like some ash covered leviathan surfacing to crush them all.

Trouble in there. Her face flushed for a second, echoes of Cory's words about her immaculate tummy's imminent rupture filling her head.

"just a little active, that's all." she stroked her belly proudly.

"How many Do you have in your belly?" Fred asked.

"Two." Kimberlyn laughed at her own joke. She meant dinners, rather than babies.

Fred seemed unperturbed. She made a mental recalculation: if the idea of his date being so heavily pregnant didn't turn him off, then she could always Stress the idea of just how fat and massive she was. She eyed her see through dress, through which her heaving tits could clearly be seen resting atop the grumbling orb of her tummy. Another joke, she thought, just to stress her bulk. "It's getting a little late, I'd say I'm going to turn into a pumpkin but I think I'm already URP!" Kimberlyn let out a grand belch that extinguished three of the candles in front of her. Immediately three waiters slid in with matches and relit them, her joke lost as she clasped a hand to her surprised mouth. As it had done a second before, her stomach lurched, jumping with a degree of animation she had never seen in all her many months of gorging herself and then lying back on her feather pillows and watching her vast belly gurgle and GLORP it's way through the mountains she consumed. She loved to lie there, like a great bloated tick, so full and rind she could barely move and could not fit her arms around herself. To her that was heaven.

She did not realise she was already passed that point.

It jumped again, but this time she was ready for it. Teeth gritted, she held back the burp that thrust up to her throat, swallowing it back down as she kneaded and massaged the surface of her stomach as best she could. Leant back in her chair, the great dome of her belly poked forward, leading to a tiny sliver of paler flesh creeping out beneath the hemline at the bottom of the obscenely bulbous slope. Beneath that, a tiny red heart embroidered onto the front of her underwear winked out, visible now from beneath the looming apron of her ever increasing stomach.

As she recovered her composure, hand gently massaging the now calmed surface of her troubled tummy, her main course arrived.

"Beef Wellington." Fred swept a hand over the platter sized plate put in front of her. Kimberlyn inhaled deeply, her body swelling with the effort of such a movement and a rubbery, strained creak grumbling out from in front of her as she did so, but she couldn't help it. The rich tang of herbed gravy, cut through with a sharp hint of mustard. Earthy notes from the pastry, buttery flavours mixing with the succulent aroma of meat. His own plate arrived, she couldn't help but notice it was a great deal smaller than her own.

"Not so hungry? Eyes bigger than your stomach?" she gigged, before once again her fingers had to splay over the flanks of her embattled midriff. She did her best to mask the wince her instinct tried to force across her features by sliding her plump feet out of her shoes and curling her toes, each individual pink digit trying to find greater comfort for the rest of her engorged body by ploughing a tiny furrow in the carpet beneath the table. Her discomfort was thus at least partially hidden.

Fred shook his head. "this is a normal sized main course."

Kimberlyn bit her lip and stifled a belch as she shifted in her seat, trying to better reach the table before her. "And I don't get one that size why... Am I not a normal sized patron?" a rather obvious trap... She only needed for him to flubb his comeback and she could take it as a fat joke and play the slighted party.

"On the contrary. You are eating for two, you bloom with life and like any rare and precious thing you must be tended and cared for. If it is not to your liking I will have them prepare lighter fare. Perhaps another appetiser, a salad maybe?"

She really did feel slighted, but not in a way she could leverage into indignation. Salad?! Just look at her, she thought, she was so fat her dress was little more than cling film clutching at the mammoth surface of her vast abdomen. She was a monument to gluttony disguised as the epitome of maternal purpose. Within her was no fecund womb, just a distinct lack of room. But she could neither show that or acknowledge it herself.

"It's a good job I wore something stretchy... The midwife will have a heart attack once she sees me after this, she'll think I'm having twins!"

"Do not over do things. I would hate to make you sick." Fred replied, an earnest note to his voice.

Implying she was not up to a meal, to Kimberlyn at least, was perhaps second only to implying she might, just maybe, a tiny little bit... Burst.

She narrowed her eyes.

"I'm starving." she said, through gritted teeth, having to raise her voice a little to allow the lie to remain audible over the noise of her churning girth.

"Bon Apetit." Fred smiled as he picked up his cutlery and lunged.

The knife parted the swollen, succulent form before him with shush of fluid filling. Meat seperated effortlessly around the serrated blade as it pierced the pale dome.

A small gout of steam escaped.

"Ah... Perfect."

His Wellington opened to him, the meat within tender and juicy, the pate atop it seared with a mushroom consome. Dark gravy swirled as meat juice flooded out to mix with it, the beef pink and moist and cooked to the very pinnacle of the chefs ability.

Kimberlyn did not notice such things. She instead only noticed the progression of fork to mouth. Green beans, carrots, honey roast parsnips. All were impale and made the slow journey from the plate. As each cleared the edge of the table they passed a narrowing chasm, at the bottom of which were a pair of rubenesque legs set wide. Squatting between them a jutting up to greet them was a palatial, mountainous thing. Kimberlyn's belly. It was like a fairy tail mountain in which a dragon lived: a great thing that rumbled with the secret at its heart, the monster that threatened to consume all in its wake, everything existing in the terrible shadow of such an edifice. Each forkful flew slowly over the top of this, the rippling, heaving plane of flesh constricted by a sheer dress meant to delight with the hint if flesh beneath, now pulled so frayingly tight that it had become all but see through. The food would pass then over the valley of her chest, the crude ravine of cleavage abnormally thrust upward by not only a hefty amount of underwiring but the shelf like formation of the top of her stomach, which formed a kind of plateau on which her tits could rest.

They were all of them destined for the same fate. Plump red lips would part and darkness would take them. Kimberlyn would chew for only a second or so before swallowing, then proceeding on the next morsel, the next, the next after that.

She ate, and as she did so the startling processes begun earlier continued. With each mouthful the forkful of food would add its bulk to the supercollision occurring inside her mighty midriff as enough food for a family's weekly grocery shop was held in precarious equilibrium by the pressure of her tortured flesh. Each forkful would add the tiniest ammount of mass and therefore pressure, which in turn would make itself known. The outer wall of her stomach, the one visible to anyone with a pair of working eyes and a clear line of sight for what could have been miles, given her ever increasing size, would expand ever so slightly. Factions of an inch, a centimetre here and there, but expansion nonetheless. Slowly she puffed out larger and larger. Her belly looked for all the world like a bullfrog trying to make itself as large as possible to ward off prey, though in this instance it wasn't the frog doing it, it was its master.

With every tiny bit she grew, so to did the strain on her dress, and so it continued to rise. There was a slight rustling, like a foot stirring fallen leaves, as it created her hip, slipping upward to reveal the waistband of her panties. Where the fat tops of her thighs met her pelvis was quite a bulge of flesh, the dress revealing this creamy, dimpled expanse in a single motion. Every time she shifted in her seat this part of her would jiggle and wobble with a hypnotic rippling motion, though the stomach that rested partially on her thighs did not jiggle and did not wobble. To do either of those things there would have to have been some looseness to the skin, some amount of give, but there was not.

She ate and she ate and she ate. Mashed potatoes with roasted garlic and melted gruyere cheese. Shortcrust butter pastry with a salt and pepper crust. Beef tenderloin with a mushroom reduction. Such things registered not for their finery, but to Kimberlyn they were only quantities. This was a war of attrition, a siege, a march, a marathon.

She shuffled forward slightly in her seat and leaned forward, as best she could. Her legs spread wider, allowing the parade float of a belly to hang between them a little more, the only way she could accommodate such a movement. She shovelled, ignoring the growing ache and the worrying sounds her stomach let out with every swallow and every morsel she sent into the abyssal depths of her cast tummy.

Her fork clattered to the plate with a ceramic clank.

"D-Done..." she said, her voice little more than a gravy sodden whisper.

Fred set down his fork and dabbed his beard with the corner of his still immaculately white napkin. "Bravo, quite a performance." he clapped his hands and smiled, but Kimberlyn smiled back, wider and more triumphant than he could, replete in her victory.

"And you doubted me? My ability to eat, how much my tummy could hold?!" she crowed, before she made her first mistake.

She leaned back.

All at once, her belly was tugged back from where it hung between her legs like a great pendulous fruit, pulled upward and back into the embrace of her thighs, where it stretched out almost to her knees. All at once it had to readjust itself, to this new position and the fires acting upon it from within and without. The weight within shifted and settled, though in a new and painful configuration.

"You couldnt hope to match me, my appetite, my magnificent belly-HURK!-"

Her stomach lurched under her grasp as her back met the back of the high backed chair. Leaning backward, her stomach jutted not only forward but upward also, a beach ball of a thing that threatened to obscure her view of both the table and Fred. She could just about make eye contact if she leaned forward a little, though to do so put an undue amount of pressure on her thunderously protesting tummy. Her eyes were wide, her voice strangled off and choked by the internal pressure now threatening to crush the very life out of her. Her face flushed first white and then green. The colour slipping out of her cheeks to be replaced only by clammy nausea. Sweat prickled over her brow, her toes curling frantically beneath the table as they clawed and scratched at the carpet in agony, perhaps trying to tunnel their way to freedom or at least dig some kind of shelter.

This newfound discomfort wasn't the only side effect of Kimberlyn repositioning her gratuitous bulk. The dress, so brutalised and over stretched, pinged upward as her tummy distorted and heaved with her movement. At the Apex of the maneuveur, the bottom hem shot up and only came to rest underneath her breasts, leaving her entire tummy bare for anyone to see.

And what a sight it was to behold.

The surface was as white as newly driven snow. It had all but swallowed her legs and was threatening to do the same to her torso, e rest of the fattened, curvaceous woman near vestigial to the monstrous swell of it. It was far too large for her to stretch her arms around, pinioning her to the seat. Beneath the ghostly white surface traced blue tendrils, great long threads of veins now visible thanks to how thinly her stomach walls had been stretched, like the rubber of a grossly overinflated balloon. Each breath drew a pinched shudder and a wincing gasp from Kimberlyn, for whom the scale of what she had done was only just beginning to sink in.

"Pardon me for saying so, but you do not look well" Fred noted, half standing so that he cups peer at her over the wall like face of her gargantuan glutted belly. From his viewpoint he could just about spy her green-gilled face. The dead centre of his view was occupied by Kimberlyn's belly button, or what was left of it. Any slight deviation from the Absolutly spherical had been eliminated by her immense expansion and the force with which the food within her was resisting the squeeze of her abdominal muscles. Any slight deviation of course included Kimberlyn's navel. When she had entered the restaurant, many hours ago now, the slight see through nature if her dress showed off her belly button as a deep dark hollow on the surface of her protuberant and gorgeously rounded tummy, a slight a bobbing thing that hung over her hips in a way that was not altogether completely convincing as a baby bump, but if questioned was certainly defensible. Now, the comparatively tiny swell of her predate podgy waistline was a mere memory, and with it any pretence of depth on the part of her navel. Now, it was little more than a slightly off-coloured patch of skin that happened to occupy the space on the face of her gut where her belly button had once been. It had not only flattened out but had been utterly obliterated, inverted and then stretched out until perfectly flat and flush with the surface if her belly around it. What precious space it had occupied was too rare a commodity to waste on maintaining something as frivolous as an innie belly button. No, that real estate had been out to much greater and more desperate use as the pressure within her troubled tum spiked to astronomical levels.

"I'm... I'm fine..." Kimberlyn gasped and spluttered. Every time she opened her much she felt like she might vomit, though each breath had to be so shallow a to be almost non existent in order to put as litte pressure in her tummy as possible.

"You look like you are in trouble. Do you need me to fetch you a doctor?" Fred asked, eyeing the waiting staff as he said it.

"I'm... I'm fine!" Kimberlyn hissed, fingers clenching into fists at her flanks, knuckles turning white as she squeezed them inward in protestation at the lancing stabs of pain that coursed through her girth.

Fred gestured to the waiters. Two girls made their way over to Kimberlyn. One brunette and one blonde, they knelt at either side of her stomach. Gingerly, they placed first their hands, then their ears against the sides of her troubled abdomen.

"What... What are they -Ugh- doing to my... My tummy?" Kimberlyn groaned, the pain in her voice doing nothing to disguise the panic in it.

"Harriet there is a student doctor. She works her to fund her studies, her skills are most useful." Fred gestured to the blonde.

"then who's she..." Kimberlyn gritted her teeth as a particularly powerful spasm rocked her voluminous food back bloat.

"Melody? Why, she is merely curious." Fred smiled to the brunette, who gigged. Was she enjoying this? If so, was curiosity really the right word?"

"Leave me... Just need to... Digest..." Kimberlyn tried to shoo them away. If only they would leave her alone she could rest, recover her strength, let the ridiculous volume of food she had ingested settle and begin to digest to the point where, perhaps in a few hours, she could begin to think about summoning the strength to move the crushing weight of her own gorged girth.

"Now now. Let Harriet work her magic."

Gently, Harriet took her forefinger and tapped at the flank of Kimberlyn's gargantuan belly.

Tap tap tap...

She could feel it, these tiny impacts, enough to raise gurgles of complaint from her fragile midriff as Harriet shuffled around to another spot.

"She's huge..." Harriet whispered, though loud enough for anyone to hear.

Tap tap tap...

She pressed her ear to the bulging flesh and listened, carefully, closing her eyes and holding her breath.

"What's she -URP- doing to my belly?" Kimberlyn demanded its all the indignation she could muster in her voice, which being a pained squeak was not a lot.

Fred held his hand for her to hush. Melody gigged, running an appreciative hand over the vast swell before her, like a Carpainter checking the feel of the grain of a freshly sanded tabletop.

Tap tap tap...

A third spot. "hmmmm." Harriet hummed. "I see." she said sagely as she listened to the response.

"What do you think?" Fred asked her.

"She's not pregnant." Harriet stood and made her way around the table to stand next to him. "Judging by the musculature of her thighs and hips I'd say never has been. There's no baby in there, all thats in her belly is too many free dinners. I'd bet money on it. She's just fat as fuck, the greedy bloated cow."

"How dare you!" Kimberlyn spat in rage, ignoring the pain within the core of her grotesquely puffed up circumference. "I didn't come here to be insulted!"

"No, you come to my restaurant to scam free meals." Fred adjusted a cufflink. "You tell the same lies to so many people and you leave without paying the bill. Many of your dates, they cannot pay all of it either, so what am I to do? They did not eat the food... You did. And I cannot chase a pregnant Madame down to at, can I? Think of the scandal. But you... You are not pregnant."

Melody purred, before planting a kiss on the gurgling curve before her, which creaked loudly as if rigging within we're twisting in a terrible storm.

"of course I -Nggggggh!- am... Look at me, I'm enormous!" Kimberlyn protested, unable to even see properly around the evidence that was not only very much stacked against her, but very much attached to her.

"you are." Harriet shook her head. "But despite how massive that tummy of yours is, it's just full of food."

"so full..." Melody purred, before wrapping her arms as best she could around it and nuzzling her face into Kimberlyn's belly, causing its owner to gasp in pain, her eyes bulging at the pressure exerted on her colossal stomach.

"The police will be called, I will tell them to bring a trailer to load you into. I have been keeping a count of the meals you have skipped out on, I cannot tally them on all of my fingers and toes combined. The evidence of your crime, well, she is right there."

Harriet winced. "Not for long, you look ready to explode."

Kimberlyn panted, her eyes rolling. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple and plopped into the dark fault line of her bosom, never to be seen again. She was trapped, cornered, she had to think of an escape, and fast!"

"Hooo!" she panted suddenly, clutching her belly.

Harriet raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

Kimberlyn stared in mock horror at her stomach, her mouth comically open, before she suddenly clutched it's heaving flanks and gritted her teeth. "Nnnnnnggggggaaahh!"

"oh come off it." Harriet folded her arms.

"What the hell is going on?" Fred raised an eyebrow.

"My belly... It's happening!" Kimberlyn yelped.

"what's happening?" Harriet cocked her head.

"I'm going into labour!"

They all stared at the massive sphere before them. Eyeing it. Daring it to make the first move.

Right, Kimberlyn thought. This was her shot. All she had to do was make it realistic. Time to really sell it.

"Hoooooo!" she panted, clenching her teeth, the muscles in her neck standing out taut as she summoned all her strength...

And sucked in her tummy.

She only managed to pull it in a couple of inches, but the effect was jaw dropping. Harriet leapt back as if stung, Fred slapped his hand to his forehead in wide eyed disbelief.

"Contractions!" Kimberlyn roared, half in mock surprise, half in triumph. "Now do you believe me?"

She let go, relaxing her stomach muscles, and all at once the titanic orb ballooned outward to its fullest circumference. There was a terrifying rubberised squeal as the elasticity of her flesh was stretched beyond its limits, the pain was intolerable but if she was to make it out of this she'd just have to manage.

"I'm going to give birth! My baby... It's coming!"

She clutched her phantom pregnancy and gritted her teeth, sucking in her belly as hard as she could again.

"Jesus, they're only a minute or so apart. We need to get her to a hospital. Call a cab!" Harriet was white, trembling, in shocked awe of what was going on right before her.

Melody clapped her hands in delight and stroked the trembling flank before her.

There was a whoosh as Kimberlyn let out a breath and relaxed her belly, letting it swell out again.

CREEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAKKKK

The sound that filled the air set teeth on edge and sent Fred scurrying for cover. It was the sound of an aircraft hull buckling at altitude, a submarine hull imploding, a foundation of a skyscraper failing.

All across the surface of Kimberlyn's belly, the ability of her skin to stretch or take any more punishment finally gave out. It was like someone threw a stone at the dead centre of a circular pond, and as each ripple spread out and multiplied it froze in place, dozens of them all hanging in perfect suspension.

The ripples were bright red, contrasting to shocking degrees against the blue white, vein mottled skin of Kimberlyn's belly.

Stretchmarks, some like tiny claw marks, some as thick as a finger. They radiated outward from what had once been her belly button, spreading right around her flanks to her hips.

"Nnnngggghhhaaaaahhhh! What... What's happening to me? My tummy..." she cried out in pain, eyes wide in animal terror. Her toes curled in on themselves so violently the knuckles of her feet were white.

They all looked on, staring at the trembling behemoth before them, before one by one they heard it.

The rumble.

Shorn of its ability to stretch, her actual stomach and the awesome pressure within we're house in what amounted to little more than a material with all the tensile strength of kitchen toll. The livid red marks that now encircled her doomed belly all but spelling out her fate in foot high glaring crimson lettering.

"No... What's happening inside me?!" Kimberlyn gasped, fingers spread as if she could somehow encircle her entire stomach and keep it together. "Somethings wrong... Mt belly.. I feel like I'm going to... No, I couldn't!"

Her piggish squeals and protestations fell on entirely deaf ears. Fred and Harriet began to take steps back, slowly at first, before the note and tenor of the rumble climbed. Glasses began to vibrate, they could feel it like the bass rattle of a rave miles away, passing through the floor and up from the soles of their feet.

"Boss..." Harriet whispered to Fred.

"Yes?" Fred replied.

"Run."

She didn't need to explain. They sprinted and hurled themselves into the shelter of the bar.

"Come back... Help me!" Kimberlyn shrieked.

Melody laughed, her hands also resting on the doomed bloat.

"Heh heh... You're too fat! You whale, you ate and ate until you're going to burst like a balloon!"

Kimberlyn shook her head. "No! I can't... My beautiful tummy... It wouldn't!"

"It's beautiful..." Melody planted a kiss on it as the rumble from inside Kimberlyn's warhead of a tummy reached a crescendo, her lips leaving A crimson lipstick print.

"But nothing beautiful lasts forever."

Kimberlyn's whole body tensed, her back arched, her legs and arms bunched and clawed wildly. Her toes curled and uncurled, her fingers spasmed, her mouth flapped and she let out one last, long, agonised howl as she felt her belly begin to tear open with a sudden bloom of violent force, like a cannon going off inside her.

KABOOM!
A Date With Destiny
It is done. 10,366 words.

This started as a quick trade based on the picture "Kimberlyn" by the wonderful :icon0pik-0ort:. As you can see, I went a bit overboard, hence this behemoth

To those of you I still owe work to: work begins shortly. I have not forgotten. Expect notes soon.

To the rest of you: feedback is appreciated.

To you all:

Enjoi
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"All you can eat my...UUURP... Curly tailed ass!"

It had been daytime when Jess had waddled her way into the beachside buffet, plonked her plump posterior at the bar, ordered a glass of the bottomless refillable soda and begun what could only be described as a massacre. She had been a red headed, snout nosed angel of death, and buffet food was her prey.

She'd dressed for the occasion, a Stars and Stripes bikini that swaddled her pillowy tits and cradled her, as previously mentioned, curly tailed and very fat ass, and left absolutely everything else uncovered and unrestrained.

She'd cleared them out.

It was night time now, and as said fat ass waddled its way through the almost too narrow double doors the cool night air hit her like a refreshing caress, causing her to instantly let out a delighted sigh as her nipples budded beneath the spandex of her bikini top.

"that roast beef was to die f-" she began, before wincing,her cheeks suddenly puffing out and her face flushing green.

GLOOOOORRRRRRRRRPPPP

She was almost bent double from the pain, though she couldn't bend that far due to said pain's source.

It had been daytime when she had entered the buffet, now it was night, but that was far from the most dramatic change.

Jess was hugely stuffed.

Between the bulging cups of her bra-top and the straining, flesh biting waistband of her bikini bottoms was a gut that resembled a huge pink balloon. Like a child blowing a wad of  strawberry gum it had inflated steadily and ever more menacingly as she dumped whole steamer trays into her face followed by serving platters and even (in a show of primal gluttony) the floral centrepiece from her table. All of it had found its way into her belly, which now protruded so far from her already plump frame that she could not get her arms around it, having to console herself with cradling its flanks.

She could not see the front of it, but she could feel it. The skin stretched so tight she felt like an enourmous food filled blister ready to explode. Each movement within leaving her gasping and panting, each movement on her part making her feel like she would pop a seam and blow apart right there.

The cool breeze was helping, the front of her belly felt so unbearably hot and uncomfortable right at the apex of the pressure. It was helping, but it wasn't enough. If only she could get colder...

She turned, and at the sound of crashing waves knew instantly what she had to do.

GRRRRROOOOOOAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNN

"not today old girl..." she puffed as she pivoted on one flip-flop clad foot and began the arduous but short walk down to the ocean. "mamma's not gonna let you burst on me!"

Each step sent a shudder through her belly. Each shudder brought forth a terrifying burst of gurgles and complaints from her tummy, which her fat fingers were trying to both massage and cradle in a failing display of multitasking.

Down the sidewalk, onto the sand. Each step was also having the unwanted side effect of wedging the rear of her bikini bottoms further into her butt, giving her pale wobbling ass an airing in a sort of makeshift thong. Turned our her belly wasn't the only over stretched thing.

Water, she felt it, cold and lapping around her toes. She gasped in delight, before crying out in pain as she felt a stabbing pain around her belly button. Out of sight around the front, several tiny stretchmarks flared like frozen ripples, red against the pale pink skin.

"Almost there... Just gotta... Hold myself together... And not... Pop!" she huffed and wheezed, her cheeks as puffed out as her critically over engorged belly.

The waves crept higher as she waded in as fast as she dared, lapping higher and higher until they brushed the underside of her colossal tummy. Further she waded, deeper and deeper. The water rose, up the curve of her girth, over her ass, over her little curly tail, up passed her flattened out belly button, up passed the equator of her turgid tummy, until she stopped, the water just lapping at the underside of her breasts.

It felt glorious.

She let out a great shivering moan, her pink lips parting in an animal, almost orgasmic groan of both pleasure and relief.

"thank fuck... Ugh, I thought that was it... Mamma was gonna burst for sure!" she breathed, before laying back and letting the weight of her fat form be taken by the water which lapped around her.

The bulge of her tummy bobbed on the surface, breaking through to stand proud like a pink atoll. She rested her hands gingerly on it, careful not to exert too much pressure, and laughed.

She'd done it. All she had to do was float here for a while, letting the chill of the water aid the struggle of her digestive tract to process all that she had packed into it and she was safe. Her glorious, enormous tummy would remain in one piece. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift, not noticing she was getting quite a bit further from the shore.

She was unaware, however, that she was being watched.

Not by the few people on the beach. Of course they were watching her. Let them look, after all, when was it you ever saw a pig girl in a two piece looking like she was ready to birth a parade balloon?

No, she was being watched from a very unexpected direction.

Below...

She did not know it until it was too late. She did not scream until it was too late.

The moment that tummy of hers had dipped beneath the waves, it had become a target, and her fate was sealed.

Powerful arms grabbed her and all of a sudden Jess felt herself yanked unceremoniously forward, pulled out deeper to sea. She cried, her scream only serving to cover the initial barrage of a laugh that sent shivers through her very core.

Something rose from the waves before her, something huge, slate grey and blonde haired.

Jess had had it easy, up until then. The worst thing she had had to fear, entrenched as she was in the civilised world on land, was her mail being delivered to the wrong address or her change being swallowed by the candy vending machine at her office.

But out here, there were worse things than chipped nails and parking fines.

Out here, she was the buffet.

She felt sometching close around her midriff and she shrieked, pressure squeezing her as her tummy growled in outrage, a multitude of sharp pricks digging into the too taut skin.

"No, no please. My tummy, I'll burst! Put me down!" she howled.

But all she got in return was a laugh.

Her cry choked in her throat as her tummy was squeezed even tighter, she kicked her legs and felt hot, wet muscle contract around them.

She looked up, into a pair of brown eyes each the size of her head.

"No..." she whimpered, squealing like the pig she was.

"YES..." boomed the voice from around her legs, caught as they were in the creature's mouth.

The shark girl laughed again, squinting at the fat, ripe morsel in her pointed snout. She bit down, hearing the squeal reach a crescendo before the food balloon of the pig's gut burst, allowing her to fit down the shark's throat.

She scoped what remained from the surface of the water, before picking a scrap of flag patterned fabric from between her teeth.

"Aaaaahhh... Sixth this week..." she chuckled, before lying backward.

Her bosom rose from the waves first, wobbling and heaving inside a mammoth brown bikini top, each cup like the sail of a great ship, printed with yellow flowers.

She rocked back further, and her tummy breached the surface.

It dwarfed her, like a cruise ship sized bubble of pale white skin it contrasted sharply with her dark grey body. Her deep navel was larger than a dinghy, many dozens of meters above the surface she watched as great fat droplets of water rolled down the great fat flanks of her great fat belly.

"Soon, girl, you'll be even bigger..." she beamed, showing far too many razor sharp teeth as she stroked her gargantuan belly.

*****

"Something has to be done!"

"It took my wife!"

"My business is going under, no ones visiting!"

"what are the police doing?"

"Tourists are scared to death they'll get eaten!"

"What the hell is it?!"

So many voices, all speaking at once. Over, under and through each other. No singular vision, no purpose. Just shouting for the sake of shouting.

They all stop as they hear the sound.

They clamp their hands over their ears to block the dreadful noise and they turn, as one, to see the man with his nails on the chalkboard.

"it's not a thing, it's a woman. A shark."

"How do you know?" one of the townsfolk asks, angry at this intruder and the terrible sound he conjured. The man nods.

"hunted her kind before. Killed her kind before."

The hubbub starts up again as the dozens clamour to demand more.

"I know a few things, had to learn a few the hard way." he holds up his left arm, which ends not in a hand but a wicked steel hook. "And I know how they think, sharks. Some of you might be thinking these incidents can't all be the work of one creature. You're wrong. Some of you think this'll all blow over. She'll get bored and leave. Wrong. Dead wrong."

He paces back and forth as he speaks, they are silent.

"Creatures like her only follow one thing. Their stomach. You wanna hit em hard? You hit em there. It's the only way. I lost too many friends trying other things to doubt that now."

"But what can we do? We aren't hunters, I'm a baker for gods sake!" a man stands, near the back, twisting his cap in his hands.

"what's your name, sir?" the man asks.

"Jenkins, Mister Jenkins. I own Leeroy's Bakery."

"Jenkins, tell me, what do you do with all the dough and batter you're baking, just hoping tourists are gonna want to stop for a bite when they're too worried a bite'll get taken out of them?"

"I throw it out."

The man narrowed his eyes. "anyone here have a boat?"

Several hands raised.

"we'll need them all. We're going to throw everything out... Directly where she can reach it. Then... We strike."

Another man stands. "I've the Largest ship, especially compared to theirs. Fishing frigate. I'll do anything to help, sea's empty with her around."

The crowd look at each other. Nervous. Afraid.

"who are you?" Jenkins asks this strange figure stood among them, offering them hope,

"Schneider. Call me Schneider."

He turns to Jenkins. "you. I'll need you most of all."

Jenkins is white as a sheet. "All I've got is a dinghy! You're gonna need a bigger boat!"

Schneider smiles.

"I need something very special from you..."

*****

They watch, all along the sea front, watching the gulls circle, then scatter, then circle, then scatter.

"what's she doing out there?" a man tugs on Schneider's sleeve.

"Eating. Sharks only understand one thing: hunger. As long as we keep providing food, that's all they're interested in. They're a slave to it."

The gulls rise, startled. Those with binoculars gasp as. Far out to sea, a huge grey tail fluke rises from the ocean and smashes back through the surface.

"As if there were any doubt. There she is." Schneider calls over the hubbub of alarm

"she's huge!"

"that tail, it's massive, she's got to be thirty foot long!"

"That's not possible"

Schneider nods. "we'll see soon enough. She's been eating out there for an hour now, nearly all that food must be gone. Someone send for Jenkins, tell him it's time."

*****

She couldn't believe her luck.

As she breached the surface, Amelia opened her maw wide and snapped a mouthful of discarded sandwiches, pizzas, pasta, bread, potato chips, curry, all manner of deliciousness. She gulped heavily, her bulging cheeks vanishing as she sucked down the vast bounty in massive mouthfuls like some kind of outrageous trawler. And yet still more of this wonderous junk food bobbed on the surface like a trans fat oil slick, and she wasn't going to miss a single French fry.

She dived once more before flicking her tail into a turn, pushing her thick legs as she forced herself up towards the surface.

She didn't quite move as quickly as she would have liked.

The slick of food was rapidly diminishing, though the same could not be said for her.

She was bottom heavy for a shark. Her upper body, though packed with fat that jiggled on her chest more than anything was nothing compared to the lower half of her body. Her thighs were literally tree trunk thick, her plump toes the last point of very chubby legs that served as the pistons that fired her through the water. Her tail, terminating in the distinctive crescent moon fluke that so terrified popular culture was also much, much thicker than it had any right to be.

But they were all of them dwarfed.

She snapped up another maw full of fat filled treats and swallowed, feeling the bulk of it slide down her throat, her hands eagerly resting where she expected it to imminently arrive.

Her tummy.

As she skulled there, floating beneath the surface, her blonde hair streamed out around her like a great halo, a circle of pure spun gold.

This too, was dwarfed.

Her fingers splayed on its round surface, this ghost white leviathan. It dwarfed even her, this ocean going giant. She poked it happily, feeling it churn for a second before letting out a mournful wail, as if she was pregnant with a whole pod of whales.

"I'm so fat... So gorgeously fat! Look at how huge I am..." she purred to herself, chuckling out a corona of bubbles.

She chomped a few more mouthfuls of the proffered feast, gulping down an industrial spill of milkshake along with an entire herd of beef burgers.

As she broke the surface, her huge tits jouncing and wobbling as they settled buoyant upon the waves, she saw it,

In the distance, at the shore.

She saw Her.

Amelia's eyes narrowed.

She left the remaining scraps for the cawing gulls. Leaving a wake like a launching ship she kicked off hard with her legs, her tail a blur as she picked up speed, heading as hard and fast as she could for the shore.

How dare she? This was her turf, her hunting ground, she should know better. Amelia grinned a wide, cruel grin, her row upon row of knife like incissors glinting like chips of bleached bone.

She would teach her a terrible, terrible lesson.

*****

"wait for it... Wait for it..."

The townspeople grabbed whatever thy could, be it trees, railings, each other or just lay down and assumed a brace position.

"Jenkins, you might want a picture, cos in two seconds flat your handiwork is gone..."

Schenider sprinted away from his position in the shadow of the great thing. Jut bobbing in the shallowest part of the bay, it cast a huge and terrifying shadow.

A shadow filigreed with grey icing.

They could see the huge bow wave that raised a vast angry V ahead of the shark that now cannonballed it's way toward then faster than a loosed torpedo. They rubbed their eyes, squinted, it couldn't be...


She couldn't be that big!

But she was.

Amelia headed straight for the thing Jenkins had made, and in the split second before impact he snapped a shot on his phone.

It was the biggest cake he'd ever made.

He'd had to pull on an army of volunteer bakers to help, the mammoth operation saw them painstakingly measuring, mixing, whisking, pouring and cooking for weeks prior to this moment. Mixing huge vats of icing over never extinguished fires, the entire town smelled of stale cake for miles around.

But here it was.

Fifteen feet high.

Ten feet across.

Vanilla buttercream holding it all together.

It was a shark. A huge female shark. Rendered in cake, she was cradling a great round bowl of a belly decorated with a dinner plate sized circle of black icing to look like a belly button, her teeth made of white chocolate, her yellow bikini top made of thinly rolled marzipan.

It was exquisite. It had used every ounce of both flour and sanity that Jenkins could lay his hands on, but it was done.

His masterpiece.

Amelia hit it like a fright train.

Icing arched high into the air, lumps of cake the size of toddlers cannonballing away. There was a blur of snapping jaws and gnashing teeth before Amelia realised just what it was she had collided with, and a split second before she swallowed the huge chunk of fake shark belly she had bitten and realised it was a whole lot better than she had thought.

The townspeople split, half one way and half the other, running to either end of the bay.

Amelia thrashed. So much cake! She crammed fistfuls into her mouth, gulping and chomping and stuffing her face as fast as she could.

She began to grow. Already her stomach hung from just beneath her bathing suit clad breast like and outrageously large white teardrop, but with every mouthful it got bigger, and bigger, and bigger.

She felt something impact the bottom of her belly softly, it took her a few moments to realise it was the sand of the shore and her belly had stretched so much it was resting on the ground in front of her.

Still she ate. She ate the fake cake sharks tits, arms and face. She particularly enjoyed the waterfall of chocolate icing that made up her hair, and she crunched up her white chocolate teeth with every appearance of utter relish.  

And when she was done, she let out a belch so loud it seemed to silence the world for a moment.

She giggled, before gently caressing her tummy. It stuck out in front of her in a shelf. So massive she herself could have curled up inside it again. It was so heavy it had dug itself a trench in the beach, a deep furrow it now rested in making it look like it was her belly that had beached itself, a creature all of its own volition.

"whatever it was you wanted to accomplish with that delicious treat..." she huffed, shouting to the cowering people, so tiny and insignificant, "I think you'll realise my gorgeous tummy is more than up to the -UUUUURRRPPP-challenge!"

She slapped her belly for good measure, wincing so hard her breath caught for a second. God she was full, she thought, her tummy flesh was stretched tight as a drum! Totally worth it though, she had never been so gloriously, ridiculously huge before. Bloated beyond all reason, glutted beyond all sense.

There was no reply, just silence.

She turned her head this way and that, her porcelain teeth glinting in the sun. To her shock and anger, she realised almost none of them were looking at her OR her beautiful belly, her pride and joy. They were all looking at some funny little man with a hook for a hand and a megaphone in the other. Oh well, she thought, she'd gobble him up and see where'd their eyes went then..."

"NOW!" the man roared into his megaphone, and a matching roar struck up, but this time of engines. She recognised the buzzing drone of it... Jetskis. What possible use could they have for those at a time like this, she wondered, she could have fit a whole Jetski in her belly button, and still had room spare for the driver.

They whisked around, behind her back, arcing from left to right and right to left, passing directly behind her.

She did not notice the chains they were pulling until it was too late, until the ends of them were in the hands of the assembled townspeople.

"Pull!" the hook handed man hollered.

The chains snapped taut, catching her by surprise as, from buried in the sand before her monumental tummy, a net spring forth and wrapped round the gargantuan circumference of her bloat.

She shrieked in surprise, the shark girl as large as a barn, before feeling the gentle touch of it on her skin.

She waited. Nothing happened.

She waited some more. Still nothing happened.

She began to laugh.

"Oh no!" she mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "you got me! Oh I surrender, please spare me and my tummy, we can't take it!" she devolved into fits of giggles, the motion of it causing her overfilled tummy to gurgle in protest. She soothed it with a maternal coo as she stroked it, tenderly. She'd let them have their fun, it'd give her time to digest a little before jumping back in the water and swimming off somewhere quiet to digest this lot.

"3-2-1..." the man with the megaphone called.

As if they could hurt her! She chuckled. What chance did they have against her, she could demolish their town with a few sweeps of her tail, her tummy was larger than even their grandest architecture, her teeth sharper than any of their knives and her blubber thick enough to ensure they could never pierce her rubbery flesh.

Let them try, they would exhaust themselves and once done she would demand fresh offerings, live prey, more fat pig girls to pop in her jaws before devouring the scraps. Her mouth began to water just thinking of it, her glutted gut letting out a cautionary whine,

"HEAVE!" the man shouted, and as one the two groups pulled on their chains.

Wrapped around behind her, the net and chains perfectly encircled Amelia's tummy like a girdle. The pulled, the chains snapping tight as they hauled, stepping further away from each other.

There was a creak as the huge fishing net reached the limit of its tensile strength and began to exert pressure on Amelia's gut, the fine cord denting into her flesh,

Her laugh caught in her throat, her cheeks flushing green as she felt a strange pressure within her massive abdomen, something her nerves mistook for nausea but they didn't have the view she did.

"PULL!" the man roared, and they did as they commanded, every man woman and child.

"Stop!" Amelia shouted. "You're prey, that means I eat you, you belong in my tummy! Now stop, or you'll really make it angry!"

The did not listen to her. They yelled harder.

"Hurk!" Amelia's voice caught, mid protestation, as the pressure on her tummy increased. The grid pattern of the net was superimposed to a scary degree on the face of her already over pressurised belly, the cord biting harder and harder into the skin. She went green, then white, as she realised something.

They had no intention of catching her.

They were trying to pop her.

All that food, out on the ocean surface, all that had been foreplay to make sure she was stuffed before she tried to eat the whole of the cake shark, meant to lure her here so they could enact their terrible plan. They'd tricked her, this dumb and insolent prey, and she had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

"Heave!" the hook handed man shouted, and with the increase in pressure there came a creak that she was sure did not come from the net itself, but from the flesh bulging madly through the holes in the net, shiny and over stretched like a pool inflatable hooked up to a tire compressor.

There was a subtle pop and a shudder ran through her gut, she realised with horror her belly button had inverted due to the pressure, a nub protruding from her monstrously stuffed tummy.

"no, stop, please! You'll pop me, I can't burst! I'm sorry, I'll leave, I promise!"

Fear gripped her. Almost as strong as the terrible ache and pain growing in her tummy.

"my tummy, you have to stop, it can't take much more!"

She wailed and thrashed, but being so fat could not muster the strength to stand or wrest her ballooned gut free of their net. She was too fat, too gargantuanly overfed, too stuffed to save herself.

The man with the megaphone held up his hand and his hook, extended only his index finger and hooked around his hook.

Amelia heard a thunk. Out of her sight, the powerful winches taken from fishing boats were coupled to the chains, and with a throaty roar their engines started.

Amelia gulped.

CREEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKK went her tummy

The engines sputtered then growled to life. Before the pressure began to intensify on her gut. Not like before. Not the inch by inch pull-then-rest of the townspeople pulling the chains. This was constant.

"Stop! I'll pop!"

GLLLOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRPPPP

The chain pulled tighter.

"You can't do this, look at me... I should be worshipped! My tummy... My tummy!"

GGGGGRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWLLLLLLL

"Enough! Stop... I'm gonna explode!"

CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKK!

Her eyes widened, she clutched the sides of her tummy, leaning back, the doomed swell of her gluttony looming enourmous before her.

She cried out, feeling her stretchy skin begin to fail her, her belly letting off a barrage of awful sounds, animal growls and elastic twangs and tearing and ripping and thunderous groans.

"I'm gonna.., I'm gonna..."

Her mouth gaped as the netting finally squeezed in that last millimetre, before with a heartstopping boom her tummy exploded.

Mature Content


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Joe hated his job.

Perhaps it was the necessity of it. He was over a barrel on it, really, having no other choice but to work in his father's clothes shop all summer between semesters or face being cut off financially. College was expensive, there was no way he could afford to attend otherwise.

The store occupied a mid sized lot on a fairly quiet street. There wasn't too much passing traffic, so the few patrons he got to serve every day tended to know exactly what they wanted, which was good for business, as Joe's father was perhaps not.

He meant well. Joe had to keep telling himself that. His father was an ideas man, a visionary, but his ideas were suspect and his vision myopic at best, downright blind at worst.

Being in that they had little passing trade, Joe's father had taken to one harebrained "promotion" after another. Hence the latest, in big bold letters on a sign outside.

BIG OR SMALL, WE GOT EM ALL

IF WE DON'T HAVE YOUR SIZE, IT'S FREE

It was a good job they had a large stockroom. Hundreds of items, each in higgledy piggledy piles of shirts, socks, pants, coats, jackets, hats and all manner of things Joe never thought anyone might want, regardless of size.

Still, they got a few folks in curious about whether they carried a certain item in a peculiar size, and to Joe's amazement they always did,

This, however, was how he came to meet Mrs Milton.

Joe already knew Mrs Milton, though he'd never spoken to her. He saw her at church, now and then, someone to nod to but never say hello to.

She was a big woman. One of those people who just exuded a sense of size. She was maybe fifteen to twenty years older than him and had kids of her own, but still very pretty. Her long tail always immaculately brushed, her claws filed to small neat points, her sharp teeth rarely bared. Married life had been good to the wolf woman, perhaps too good. He remembered once when she had dropped her purse and bent to pick it up, in a tight black skirt her arse had bloomed like a great black moon, sheer and vast. Her face had rounded out and her tits were that special kind of pillowy enormous that only women of a certain age acquire.

She was a big, big woman.

And she was in his shop.

"hi... Can I help?"

She removed her gloves, slowly peeling each off each finger. "I need a new outfit... Something formal, a blouse and skirt. I'm entertaining this week."

She barely looked at him, twitching her snout this way and that as if using it to appraise his shop. The tiny beauty spot above her lip on the right side of her pale brown muzzle underscoring the movement.

"sure, um, did you have a preference on colour?"

Finished removing her gloves, she thrust them in her bag. "None, as long as they match."

So far, okay, Joe thought to himself as he pulled a few items from the racks and handed them to her, guessing her size. "Anything you like?"

She flipped through the garments. "No, no, no, no." she tossed them aside, one after the other, disinterested and unamused. "no... This is passable." she held up a white shirt with a small lace collar and pearl button details. "I'll need some black dress pants to go with them. Is that your changing room?" she pointed to an arched doorway.

"yes, I'll bring you the pants if you want to try this on."

She did not thank him or even acknowledge the offer, merely turned and made for the doorway to change.

Joe heard the clank of the curtain hooks and the rustling of her undressing, and had to suppress a strong urge to sneak a peek. There was something about Mrs amilton, something he found intensely intriguing, though he couldn't put his finger on it and could much less imagine confessing it to her. Putting out of his mind all thoughts of what the undressing vixen would look like, he selected a likely candidate for size among the rack of formal dress pants and arrived them to the changing room.

"I've found some pants to go with the blouse."

A hand emerged around the cubicle curtain. "Give them to me." cane a barked order from within, and the clawed fingers snatched the pants from him. No thanks was offered. He waited for a second, listening to several grunts of effort, before he turned to leave to give her some privacy.

"Stop." she ordered, and without him acknowledging it his feet slammed to a halt in obedience.

"your assistance is still required. You may go when I dismiss you." she chided from behind the curtain. Joe felt his teeth grind, it was that kind of attitude that me working in retail so god damn unbearab-

She drew back the curtain.

"I need you to fasten these, they're too awkward." she pointed down, and he could see why.

The zipper yawned open, and there was about four inches between the button on the waistband and the eyelet it was meant to fit through. Between them... A gulf.

She was a big woman, but usually dressed to cover this, rather than accentuate it. Here, however, the blouse was certainly more figure hugging than anything she had been glimpsed in before. Beneath the familiar jut of her breasts lay a round, sweeping bulge denoting a well fed tummy, one that hung in a distinct and full paunch, the main bulge of which hung pendulous and low over her wide hips.

The bottom of the two blouse flaw was visible in the triangular space left by the open fastenings of the pants, and just under this was visible the barest hint of pale belly flash and a slight hint of a shadow, perhaps the meniscus of her belly button. Joe was about to turn away, blushing slightly, when Mrs Milton let out a short cough, more a demand for attention.

"Fasten it for me. There's a good boy."

Boy. It was so patronising, but this thought flitted for a mere second inside his kill before it was gone, pushed out and barred by the notion of the task he was about to attempt.

He knelt before her and surveyed the puzzle. Slipping a hand down each side, he was acutely aware of the feeling of warm, slightly yielding flesh brushing the back of his hands as he worked the two halves closer together. The more he pulled them together, the more flesh seemed to bulge between his fingers. His brows knitted, he felt the edge of something brush his fingertips and knew instantly it was her panties, and knew in that moment also that something stirred in his own pants...

"No good?" she asked, her tone a nuance less harsh than previously it had been, causing joe to look up and meet her gaze. She was smiling, her eyes narrowed in a predatory fashion.

"it's... Um... I think maybe it's-"

"too small? It's okay, you can say it, I'm a BIG girl after all..." she purred, chuckling, before running a hand down the skin tight front of the blouse. "It's a shame, I guess I'll just have to take both of them for free..."

The vision of her potential panties suddenly leapt from Joe's mind, frightened off by the very real threat of his father finding out he had had to give merchandise away gratis, promise be damned.

Joe stood while awkwardly turning, hoping she couldn't see the stiffening bulge at his crotch. "I'm sure we have a bigger size in the stock room!" he gabbled, entirely too quickly. Suddenly he felt much to hot, uncomfortable and fidgety, his guts squirming. He staggered at speed out of the changing room, leaving the bemused wolf behind. Slamming the stock room door behind him, he panted for a few minutes, adjusting the uncomfortably tight stiffness of his cock before setting to looking for bigger sizes among the piles of stock.

Ten minutes later he was back in the changing room, a bigger blouse in one hand and a bigger pair of pants in another.

"I found them..." he panted, having sprinted back with them. In a moments delirium on his way back he'd imagined her having removed the other smaller clothes without closing the curtain, but when he arrived it was drawn all the way.

"hand them over." came the voice from within, and the familiar hand emerged around the side of the curtain to claim them. Dutifully he handed them over and waited, having not been dismissed as instructed.

He heard the delirious rustle of fabric, before... No, it couldn't be...

A very stifled, but still discernible, burp.

He had no time to consider it, however, as the curtain was thrust back.

"these simply won't do at all."

He was sure he'd gotten a bigger size. Sure as he could be. But the evidence of his eyes made him out to be a liar. Clearly, these were even smaller on her than the last set. The button down Blouse was pulled so taut that it gaped t the widest point of her chest, showing a dark swatch of fabric, as well as pulling the other buttons worryingly tight.

The pants did not have a hope in hell of fastening. The gap seemed even wider, however now the bottom most hem of Mrs Milton's blouse seemed to have risen a little higher, Joe could see the entirety of her dark, deep navel. He looked for longer than he really ought to have, before snapping his eyes away embarrassed,  though she seemed not to have noticed. Either that or she didn't care.

"Big girls need big sizes... Surely you haven't got either if these in anything larger?" her smile was almost as broad as her waistline, drawn into a long crescent of glittering white fangs. She reached her plump fingers down, splaying them over the surface of her bulging midriff, before taking hold of the two sides of her undone pants and tugging, a feeble effort that accomplished nothing save sending a pronounced ripple through her tummy... Which gurgled loudly in response. She seemed not to notice, and let her hands drift apart slightly, fingers still gripping her the fabric so that she appeared almost to be tugging the apart, exposing a fuller portion of her belly, which had no doubt seen more than its fair share of fuller portions. Her eyes flicked down and back up, in much the same manner Joe's did.

"Be right back!" he squeaked, before turning tail and sprinting to the stock room. Had she seen, he asked himself. It was unmistakable, the moment he looked down he could make out the silhouette of his throbbing erection, unmistakable and unhidable.

He grabbed bigger sizes after a frantic search. Back down to the changing rooms.

"no no no, these won't do at all" came the reply from within.

Mrs Milton swished aside the curtain and emerged. She rested her other hand on her lower back, supporting it's newer arched shape as she waddled forward.

There was no mistake, Joe realised, he had checked the labels three times to be sure. This time, the blouse and pants were three sizes bigger than the previous set. Three sizes.

And yet they looked smaller than the first set.

The blouse was buttoned down to her breasts, but no lower. It parted there, exposing the bottom of two navy coloured and lace embroidered cups that enclosed her bosom, a thick band of underwiring visible beneath to give them lift and definition. It pinched into the skin in a manner that suggested it was uncomfortably tight.

Beneath that was her belly.

He stared, openly, open mouthed. His eyes transfixed, he watched as she ran a languid hand slowly down it, starting just beneath her right breast. The fingers splayed to better accentuate the vulgar orb, following the outward swelling contour, taking in the gentle slope that tapered around at the apex of the gurgling spheroid, before beginning a slow descent across her underbelly before finally coming to rest at her waistband.

The waistband of the pants was lower than it had been before. She couldn't pull them up all the way, so where they gaped due to her inability to fasten them Joe could now see a lace trimmed frill.

Her panties.

They were navy blue too, matching her bra, trimmed with scalloped lace. They were everything he had hoped for, and so much more.

His dick felt ready to explode, right there, ready to immolate and vaporise his jeans, blast forth in ruinous joy. Joe was nearly bent double from the discomfort of it.

"help me fasten these." Mrs Milton drew her hand up to her chest before extending a lazy finer downward towards the unfastenable pants. The tip of her mail hovered millimetres above the clearly visible jut of an erect nipple showing through both blouse and bra.

"I can't... There's no way-"

"The customer is always -Hic- right." Mrs Milton quoted, stifling a loud hiccup and pressing a hand to her shuddering chest just as another rocked through her fat form, her tummy convulsing for a heartbeat as her cheeks bulged, swallowing hard a moment later and returning to the expression she had worn a moment prior, as if nothing had ever happened.

Obediently Joe knelt, not caring that she could see his cock almost as clearly as if he weren't wearing anything over it. Nothing made sense any more, the room seemed to swim around him like a viscous fever dream. He saw her toes curl, the neat black claws of her bare feet raking the carpet in delight as she watched him get into position infrint of the altar of her stomach. His eyes were level with the tiny bow that adorned the waistband of her panties like a tiny flower gripping a mountainside threatened by imminent avalanche. A tiny detail, no bigger than his thumbnail, but he focused on it to prevent his gaze journeying anywhere else as he made a perfunctory show of trying to bring the flaps together to fasten her pants. There was no sense in trying too hard, it was impossible. He had a better chance of building a working car out of breakfast cereal.

"I probably should have mentioned something before you started that..." and a voice from above. "Joe?"

He allowed his eyes too drift upward. The totemic hollow of her belly button hive into view, a great black hole that threatened to swallow him up, he felt like the tiny mole to the right of it was like a ship being sucked into a vast whirlpool.

From beneath, he could better see the full underside of her tits. How they jutted proudly forward, forming a wall from behind which he could just see the halo of her brunette locks and the fluttering butterfly wing blue of her eyeshadow.

"I should have told you something..."

"what?" his heart fluttered like a caged bird, before proving itself a miners canary,

"I'm breathing in..."

There was a whoosh from her lips as she let herself breath out, and all at once she inflated. It was like watching someone connect a car tyre pump to a beach ball, all of a sudden there was at least three, maybe four inches of circumference on the swell of her belly, three or four inches it suddenly occupied and where his head had been previously.

It barged him over backwards, knocking him on his ass. She loomed over him, a planetary colossus. Bloated and enormous, she was silhouetted by the light in the dressing room, her bulging flanks lit from behind and given a fierce and threatening corona as a great, terrible moan rumbled out of her swollen tummy.

"Are you alright?"

She scowled. "of course, I'll be even better when I'm wearing my free outfit."

"Free?"

She tugged at the hem of the blouse, forced out even further than her pants. "this isn't my size, I can't be seen in polite company like this, can I? IF WE DONT HAVE YOUR SIZE, IT'S FREE." she quoted, before patting her belly, which let out a worrying gurgle.

"but..."

"need I remind you: the customer is always right?"

"be right back! We have bigger sizes!"

A look of minor panic flickered in her eyes as he jumped off and scurried away, no amount of belly boasting braggadocio could disguise it.

He was back five minutes later, to a lost battle.

The curtain wasn't closed. In fact, it was doubtful she would have fit in the cubicle without demolishing one of the walls.

"You're -Hic- back..." Mrs Milton moaned, her face fishing for a second as she fought Diwn a belch that rose up her throat on a wave of nausea.

Joe dropped the blouse and pants, aghast. "what the hell?!"

She had managed to take off the last blouse and pants, which lay crumpled and discarded where she had kicked them away from her. Mrs Milton stood in only her underwear, glorious and horrifying in equal measure. She leaned heavily on the wall, bracing hereof with her right arm, her left pressed hard to the flank of her gut.

Her belly had grown, yet again. As she leaned and swayed, joe caught sight of her open hand bag, and within it the lids of perhaps a dozen open bottles of squinty aerosol cream, all now presumably empty.

There was no ice cream sundae in sight, so there was only one place the contents of those cans could have ended up,

"I don't... I don't feel so great... Urrrrrrrrrrp... Oooooooooooh."

The burp seemed to trouble her greatly. Her swaying grew more pronounced, her hand swooping from her tummy to her mouth, her cheeks flaring green as a rumble echoed within her, the gods themselves decrying what she had done.

"you're...  You're..." Joe spluttered, unable to fully articulate the magnitude of her midriff, the carnage echoing inside her gut, the insane bloat if her monumental stomach.

"fat? Young man, I feel... Ugh... So fat I might pop..." she groaned, clutching her belly. "Quickly... Help me..."

She waved for him to help and he ran to her, his hand in his he stepped behind her, his other hand encircling her waist... At least as much of it as it could.

"I'm gonna be sick..." she whimpered, over her shoulder Joe tried not to notice how her tits bounced with every word she breathed, her voice husky and pained. From this angle her gut extended forward in a great rolling prairie of pink hued, worryingly vocal fecundity, over stuffed and over ripe and so deliciously, dangerously over filled.

"I shouldn't have... Guh... Shouldn't have done... This... My poor tummy... It hurts..." she panted, her tongue lolling from her mouth. Joe could hear the claws in her toes scritch-scratching the carpet as her toes curled, not in pleasure this time but with acute nausea.

"here let me help you..." Joe moved in and tried to pivot her bulk, but stopped immediately as he felt something.

The tip if his cock was lodged hard against her ass.

He froze, unable to move or speak lest he draw more attention to it. It seemed to throb, harder and harder, nestled against the plump yielding meat of her fat buttocks.

"that's not the help I had in mind..." she whispered.

Her hand moved from the side of her belly. Around to her back. Down. Her fingers found the button of his jeans and tugged, popping them open, the button fly undoing with a quiet pop-pop-pop.

Her fingers closed around the shaft, hot in her hand, and she stroked.

"Mrs Milton, Im sorry..."

"why... I know you like me like this... This fat and full... Ready to burst..."

She felt him twitch in her grasp, he was close, she had better make this quick. Then she could lie down and try and sleep some of this off...

"I'm not quite full yet...  My big belly can handle a little more cream..."

She bent forward, ponderous and slow with the care of a bomb diffuser and gently slipped her panties aside. She felt him tease her lips and with a moan she lent her weight backward, inch by wicked inch, pushing herself back onto his length. Deeper and deeper inside her, into her belly. Her overpacked, about to pop belly.

Her eyes rolled back for a moment as she began to roll her hips, back and forth, back and forth, feeling him tense harder and harder inside of her. Her teeth grit, she ignored the terrible, agonising warnings rumbling out of her precarious tummy.

"Cum for me... Fill me up!"

He was only too happy to oblige, but as she felt him thrust deeper, something within her gave.

Her eyes snapped open and her hands flew to her tummy the moment she heard it, what sounded like an elastic twang from deep inside her belly. There was a moments reprieve before a lancing pain pierced the core of her gut and she gasped in shock.

"what... What's happening..." she managed, her great stomach bouncing up and down with each thrust, each thrust forcing the ache deeper and deeper.

She knew the answer already.

"no... I can't... I... I..."

Her vast abdomen responded with a sound that flattened the wolfs ears, her tail bristling in fear. She knew it, at once, the signs were all there. The pain, the red of her skin, the creaking within her...she was going to burst!

"No... My belly... Stop!" she clutched futilely at it as if she could will it to stop. Much like trying to fasten the dress pants over her burgeoning and now explosive belly, this too was impossible.

"I'm gonna burst!" she whimpered, and with this something did, deep inside her.

Joe let out a small, strangulated cry, and let forth a torrent of hot cum.

Even a drop was a drop Too much.

There was a sound like a building collapsing in on itself, a shriek of horror from Mrs Milton as she clasped her hands to the rumbling swell, and an almighty boom as her belly exploded.

Mature Content



...has finally been posted.

You need this in your life.

Trust me.
  • Listening to: 808 snakes
  • Reading: Are you my real dad?
  • Watching: Cystitis roulette
  • Playing: Xylophonous heartbreak
  • Eating: Upgrade materials
  • Drinking: Methtiny

deviantID

Fudgepops
Let it burst!
United Kingdom
Hipsterpopamiss Rex

Mature Content



...has finally been posted.

You need this in your life.

Trust me.
  • Listening to: 808 snakes
  • Reading: Are you my real dad?
  • Watching: Cystitis roulette
  • Playing: Xylophonous heartbreak
  • Eating: Upgrade materials
  • Drinking: Methtiny

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Comments


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:iconguttermind54:
Guttermind54 Featured By Owner Jul 6, 2016  New Deviant Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the watch!
Reply
:iconfirecontrol:
FireControl Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2016
You and I need to talk more and RP! I wonder... Do you still use AIM? I have tons of sexy story ideas~!
Reply
:iconfudgepops:
Fudgepops Featured By Owner Jun 28, 2016
Periodically yes, let me know when's good for you
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:icon79nova:
79nova Featured By Owner May 20, 2016
Happy birthday!!
Reply
:iconsourwaffleprincess:
sourwaffleprincess Featured By Owner May 20, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday!

Don't eat TOO much cake now~
Reply
:iconn0t4b0t53:
N0t4b0t53 Featured By Owner May 20, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
For what little this comment is worth, happy birthday! I hope you're having a good one
Reply
:iconrikuthedragonslayer:
Rikuthedragonslayer Featured By Owner May 20, 2016  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Happy birthday dude 
Reply
:iconoscar4111:
oscar4111 Featured By Owner May 20, 2016
Happy Birthday!  Hope it's a blast!  (Also hope I don't get hit by karma for such a bad pun)
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:iconsenorpapel:
senorpapel Featured By Owner May 20, 2016
happy birthday, hope many a belly were popped today
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:iconbigbenkei15:
BigBenkei15 Featured By Owner May 20, 2016
Happy Birthday!
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