Chapter 4

She craned her neck to see what she didn’t want to, and as she did so she was forced to arch her back, pressing out her newfound belly bulge. It was certainly past her breasts now, free from the confines of her jeans, and looking round. She dared not lift up her shirt to see if it was real. As for her shirt, it was almost fitting comfortably now, rather than being way too loose for her prior figure. She could only gasp and grab her pudgy tummy, her hands shaking as they dug into the soft, unfamiliar curve.

“Ooooh . . .” she tried to yelp, but all that came out was a pathetic cooing.

He gazed into her eyes until she felt compelled to say something. Something nasty, something expressing her inner fury at whatever this bastard was doing to her.

“I have a beerbelly,” was all that came out. More humiliation rose up within her, rapidly trying to replace her anger.

“It’s coming from the beer. You see, the stress isn’t only getting to your body. It’s getting to your mind. You start trying to loosen up, partying, socializing, all the while losing control of your grades just as much as your figure.”

Maria swayed in her seat, trying to adjust to the sudden extra forty pounds on her frame. He thighs spread out, pressing together. Her prized hips were painfully crammed in her jeans. When she glanced at her belly, and it was a belly now, it spread into her lap, pulling her shirt with it. If she stood up it would just peak out from under her shirt. The mental image chilled and disgusted her.

“Your friends probably notice it before you that you’re getting bottom heavy. So far, by all accounts, you’re still cute, you still get attention, but you don’t feel attractive at all. Even when your bras finally start getting tighter--”

She felt her bra tighter, her breast shifted forward under her shirt but her hands stayed on her belly, as if by hiding it she could deny that it was there, growing.

“--you still don’t feel any better about yourself. Your diet isn’t just making you chubby, either, it’s making you unhealthy. You start looking all around bloated--”

Maria’s full stomach belched. Her face began feeling strange, tingly.

“--and your face starts catching up with the rest of you. Your cheeks get puffy, your chin doubles.”

She moved her trembling hands to her cheeks, meeting them before she should have. She could actually feel her cheeks puffing out, her thumbs feeling the sudden swelling of her neck.

“Nyyyyyaaaaah--” she tried to speak again. Nothing intelligible came out. She had her hands on her face, like she was about to scream, feeling her cheeks growing outward. He gave her a cold stare that said in no uncertain terms, You don’t speak until I tell you to.

“So you don’t have such a pretty face to offset your chubby body anymore,” he continued. Maria’s shirt stretched across her body, particularly her growing potbelly, stretching so far as to leave an indentation where her deep belly button was. She took her hands off her face to try to pull her shirt down, as it was finally rising up under the pressure. She shifted in her seat, spreading her legs to give her thighs some room as she did so. Her ass flattened out over the stool under her.

“And you’re so damned stressed that you take to partying more and more, which is really messing with you since you don’t have time to study anymore, and even if you did have the will power to get in shape you’re so depressed about your failing grades you don’t. You stop seeing most of your good friends, sticking mostly to no account acquaintances with their drinking and drugs. You avoid all that. You have enough worries after all. You’re getting close to two-hundred pounds now--”

Maria choked back a cry of disgust, knowing it was true. She hopelessly tugged at her shirt while her fat expanded beneath, her breasts now poking out in front of her. They’d look pretty good actually, she thought, if it wasn’t for the rest of her. Her sides were growing with her stomach, and what was once a comfortably large t-shirt was now a form-fitting shirt that showed off her every bulge of flab.

“Just like that, no more sexy Maria,” he said, snapping his fingers. “You left what little hourglass you had in the dust. You probably even got a little waddle going on, isn’t that right? Swaying your fat hips all over the place.”

The sides of her jeans tore open just as her ass ripped open her seat. She jumped in her seat, rubbing her plump sides, fury and humiliation in her face but still she couldn’t say a thing. Every movement produced sickening jiggling throughout her body. She was over two-hundred now. She had to be. She hissed, trying to speak.