literature

Paula's Gonna Pop

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Literature Text

"what do you mean ratings are down?"

A sigh filtered through the receiver. "People are tired of your schtick, Paula. Let's face it, we're just making the same show over and over again."

"what do you mean?!" the peroxide blonde vision declared, a hand moving to sooth a soft gurgle from beneath her desk. "My public love me! I'm a born winner!"

"yes, I know, but once you've seen one episode of 'Paula's Gonna Pop!' you've pretty much seen 'em all. The format got tired three series ago, you just don't seem to be pushing yourself like you use to."

"Not pushing myself?!" Bright red lipstick forming a tightly drawn line of annoyance bordering on rage, "It's not my fault there's not an eating challenge I can't beat!"

"well, if you don't think of something, they're going to can the show. You've got one episode to turn things around, if not we're history."

Paula slammed down the phone and angrily stood, pacing back and forth on the luxurious thick pile white carpet of her office. Cancel her show? How dare they even consider it! She was a star, they were blessed to even have her presenting a show on their proxy little network.

She stopped in front of a full length mirror. Blue eyes sparkled above high cheekbones, a pointed chin drawing the eye down to a white blouse with the top two buttons undone to reveal an expanse of beautifully tanned cleavage.

Beneath that, her pride and joy grumbled softly as she stroked it.

She'd give them a show alright...


*****


"welcome to "Paula's Gonna Pop!""

Rapturous applause faded in over repeating shots of her. Her with the four foot Bavarian Belly Burster sausage. Her with the Belfast Burger Bonanza. Her with the Cincinnati Chicken Wing Challenger, a scale replica of a space shuttle made entirely of chicken wings. All challenges she'd bested in prior shows.

"welcome back. Before the break I promised you a peek at something special and a challenge like no other, and I'm here to deliver on both. Feast your eyes on this!"

Paula's achingly white smile lights up the screen as she grabs the camera lens and angles it downward. Passed the white blouse collar, passed cleavage canyon, to what lies beneath.

"of course, the real star of Paula's Gonna Pop is right here. My belly."

The front of her blouse domes out as if she's carrying twins. Heavily. The arch of her back only accentuates the curve of her outrageous gut, a stomach that stared as just a minor muffin top in the first series of her once hugely popular show, but through its long run and dwindling audience it has grown and grown until, empty, it rests hugely over her hips, low, a bloated reminder of just how long her show has been on the air.

"every week you've watched me try my hand at some of the most outrageous eating challenges the world has to offer. Every week you've seen me test the limits of how much I can stuff into my fabulous stomach without it bursting, and every week I've come back for more. There's nowhere up to the challenge, here it is after four years of none stop gorging."

She pats the bulbous surface, the swell rippling slightly as she does.

"there's no challenge up to the task of defeating Paula's paunch."

The audience whoop and cheer. They know the drill, every week she bigs up her belly and boasts about how unpoppable she truly is.

"but what about if they ganged up on me? Can my stomach take them down... All at once?"

She arches her back and puffs out her girth, drawing herself up and showing off just how big she can stretch, without even so much as a chicken nugget to help her.

"today, I take on my toughest challenge yet! Three of my most legendary victories, recreated and brought together to see, once and for all if..."

She holds her hands aloft, allowing just the lowest curve if her tummy to peek out under the lower hem of her shirt as it rises. The audience go wild, as one they chant the answer back to her.

"PAULA'S GONNA POP!"

*****

The first challenge awaits. The Idaho Taco. A monstrous beast of a thing, roughly fie times the size of its normal, everyday namesake. A huge curved crisp tortilla shell loaded with fried meat, lettuce, cheese and sour cream.

"Wish me luck!"

Paula hefty the thing and brings the rim of it to her mouth. She grins, before lifting it further, tilting it up and positioning it so that it forms a sat funnel pointed towards her mouth.

She parts her lips, and the avalanche begins.

In mere minutes she's done it, first the meat, then the lettuce, then finally the stubborn cheese and sour cream, which take their sweet time. The crowd gasps as her throat works rhythmically to force down several pounds of taco, before with a few crunches as she polishes off the shell it's done.

The buttons on her blouse creak. The garment was created especially for her, the fabric woven with a high thread count of elastine to provide an ability to stretch, but nothing on earth can prepare it for Paula. The buttons gape, pulled taut over the bold swell of her taco filled tummy they pull into diamond shapes revealing taut tan flesh beneath, the sphere gurgling as it wrestles the huge treat she's just forced into it.

"Doctor!"

A stunt, not a cry for help. On comes pretty young doctor Sykes, brunette, slender, tight ponytail, thick glasses, lab coat. The sensible Yin to Paula's gluttonous Yang.

She presses a stethoscope to the barely clad bulge and sighs.

"you're so full, you can't possibly eat any more."

A tired charade. Like the rest of the show, the spectacle grew thin three seasons ago.

"I'll find room, doc, next up I've got the Chowder Howitzer!"

Hailing from San Francisco, next up is a cauldron of clam chowder, sticky thick broth slopping within a cauldron perhaps the size of Paula's own girth. Prior to the Taco, of course.

"Here goes nothing!" Paula enthuses before the cauldron is hoisted over her head. Greedily she tips it back, glugging down the contents in great draughts.

Her belly seems to bounce with each swallow, a flood of soup roiling inside her, joining the taco,

GULP...

GULP...

GULP....


CREEEEEEAAAAKKK... PING!

Her button mutinies. The little white plastic disk gives way with the snap of thread, firing off in a ballistic arc. Each subsequent swallow sends another flying off after it, one by one widening the aperture in her shirt through which Paula's belly protrudes. The audience gasps, she's about as big as she's ever gotten in the history of the show, and shows no sign of stopping.

GULP

GULP

GULP!

She sinks the chowder, though the rapacious pace has begun to slow. She's filling up. The bold face of her bronzed belly bobs, the navel shallow, displaying a rather gaudy piercing, a tiny red crystal nestled in the divot in the otherwise perfectly smooth face of her tummy.

"AH...UUUUURP!"

The cauldron clangs to the floor as Paula sways on her feet. One hand presses to the surface of her vast abdomen, the skin tight and hard under her fingertips. She feeds a gentle pressure on her proud midriff.

"Paula... You look like a hippo... A pregnant one at that!"

Doctor Syke's concerned expression peers up at her from under her massive stomach. Paula only laughs, though her tummy growls loud enough for the loose cutlery on the tabletop to quiver.

"I'm doing it... I'm going to -URP! Uggggh- do it!"

"Paula, stop, you'll burst!"

The starlet giggled aloud.

"Nonesense! Onto the..."

Her bare belly let out a Jurassic roar, a warning perhaps.

"ONTO THE FINALE!" she managed between Over full belches and protestations from her grand girth.

"Mount Sprinkles..." she pointed to a towering mountain of ice cream, before grabbing up a pair of spoons and advancing...


*****


"ugh... I... I did..."

She looked green. All the colour had drained out of her face, she lay sprawled over the metal surface of the studio kitchen.

"I... Ugggghhh, my tummy... I did it..."

Chocolate ringed her mouth, whipped cream smeared her cleavage. Her blouse had split utterly, hanging completely open exposing a lilac bra supporting as best it could two succulent, quivering breasts that wobbled and jounced with every laboured breath.

"Bring... Bring it..."

She could hardly get the words out she was so full, but the doctor did as she was told. On came the ultrasound machine. She liberally sprayed blue conductivity gel onto the hand head scanning head, before pressing it to the towering wall of Paula's troubled tummy. The stars eyes bulged. "Careful! Don't push so hard... God look at me, I'm enormous..."

Her tummy loomed, vast. It hung over them like a barrage balloon, do stretched out and bloated the colour of it seemed to have bleached several shades lighter.

Inside her Sykes quickly found Paula's actual stomach, the embattled organ stretched to many times it's regular size.

Paula purred as she watched the illuminated tour of her overstuffed innards, before something caught her eye.

"I've... I've always wanted to do this..." she managed.

Sykes wasn't paying attention. All she heard was the gulp, before the tiny shape of the cherry from the summit of the ice cream colossus found its way into the outrageously overtaxed organ visible on the ultrasound screen.

Everything was quiet for a second.

"Th-ugh- there we... GLOOOOOORRRRRPPP... there we have it... I did it!"

GRRRRRROOOOOAAAANNNN

"Paula..." Sykes whimpered.

"I guess -GUUUUURRRRRRGGGGLLLEEE- this is another week..."

"Paula..." Sykes began to point furiously

"Another week when-"

"PAULA!" Sykes screamed.

"What?"

"Paula look, your stomach!"

On the tiny LCD screen they watched as the organ gave up the fight, the walks of it lurching outward as it began to uncontrollably swell.

"Paula, you're gonna pop!"

Paula looked in horror at the surface of her prized tummy. The barrage of groans from within grew louder, the surface rising as I'd she we're dating a deep breath.

"No... No I can't..."

The skin squealed like an overinflated car tire as its elasticity pushed beyond its limit, the resistance it could provide to the immense pressure within the bloated celebrity finally collapsed.


She was growing. Inch by inch, her belly creeping outward.

"No, stop it, doctor... Do something!"

Sykes was frozen, terrified. "I'm not a real doctor!"

The crowd were on their feet. This was what they'd paid to see, waited through series after series of the same thing,

Their chant began. Louder. Louder. Growing like the surface of Paula's doomed tummy.

Louder like the creaks of her thinning skin.

Louder like the wails of despair she howled, her gluttony dooming her.

Her belly heaved, techtonicly.

"No, no, don't do this to me... I'm a star!"

She hit supernova, her stomach gurgling and roaring like the boiling cauldron of a volcano,

The chant became a battle cry,

PAULA'S GONNA POP

PAULA'S GONNA POP

PAULA'S GONNA-

KAAAABBBBBOOOOOOMMMM!
another 1 hour story trade.

Enjoi
© 2014 - 2024 HurtMe-Plenty
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Gallygal2's avatar
Why did this remind me of Ellisworld for some reason? XD