Best Joke Ever

Chapter 1

She awoke strapped into a chair, wearing her form-fitting jeans with a thick belt and her tight black shirt tucked in. She had a very slight figure, a thin little waist and virtually nonexistent ass mismatched with larger than average breasts—for her size, at least.

“What’s happening?” she struggled. Nobody answered in the dark room. She heard a buzzing above and she saw a tube coming down at her. She thought she heard somebody giggle from behind the invisible walls.

“What’s—“ she started to say as clamps on the chair forced her head upward and the tube slid down her throat without resistance. She mumbled and tried to turn her neck.

Then a sickening sloshing was heard coming down the tube. She struggled, frightened, futilely. It entered her slowly at first, some kind of thick liquid. She soon started to feel full. She moaned, unable to look down when her pants started feeling tight. The pressure was growing now. She moaned in pain and started to tear up. Her small, flat stomach was being filled to its limit and she couldn’t stop swallowing. Her belt was barely pressing into her now. She moaned, pleading, and was answered by a loud groan from her overfilled tummy.

Again, she heard some kind of muffled laughter.

Her belt was getting excruciatingly tight as her waistline stretched. She begged unintelligibly for it to stop. The flow stopped when she knew for certain she couldn’t take any more. She breathed out and she heard her jean button snap open. She wimpered and the tube shot out of her mouth, the straps released her.

The first thing she did was belch for a full minute through her tears as her delicate hands rubbed her engorged belly. It was now a taut, basketball-sized hump sticking out of her midsection. Her pants were wide open and her shirt was riding up. She struggled unconsciously and got her belt undone, allowing the hard dome to push out.

She fell forward out of the chair moaning and sobbing while she tried to settle the churning ball her trim stomach had become. Again, muffled laughter from behind the walls. Somebody said what she could swear was, “Quiet, Dan!”

“Ooooooh—urp!—ooooh, god, who’s there? Please stop this,” she sobbed, and then added for emphasis, “Right now.”

A series of lights lit up around her, each attached to a stiff, mechanical tendril whirling out of the walls. She crawled away but one tapped her swollen belly, sending a light shock through her. Then another, and another. She tried to fight them away and then realized something else was wrong.

The seat of her pants felt tight. She slowly reached behind and found a softer, jutting rump. She yelped when she saw her belly button, a deep pit in her soft stomach, and love handles poking out over her pants and her increasingly tight shirt. She tried to stand and fell when more tendrils shocked her. She kneeded her soft belly as it rose over her tightened waistline. She sobbed, tried a few impotent threats, attempted to beg them to stop just as her bra snapped releasing her bloated breasts into her straining shirt.

“No, no, no, stop it!” she screamed. Her drooping belly pushed her zipper down, and she tore at her restraining shirt which was already pushed up and revealing her chubby midsection. She grabbed her face and found bloated cheeks and the start of a small double chin.

She started hic-upping—which somebody hidden found extremely hilarious—as the tendrils retracted. Each hic-up was accompanied by a burp as her body plumped up slowly in jerks. The increasing fat jiggling on her previously fatless body.

“Please—hic burp!—God, stop it!—hic burp!—Cut it out! Oooh . . .”

Her pants tore as her thighs widened, softened. She huddled in the corner, clutching her tubby body as it grew and spread and jiggled uncontrollably.

“Ooooh, I’m too—hic burp!—Stop it!—hic burp!—I’m tooo fat—hic burp!—I said—“

It did stop, however, but her 85-lbs frame had doubled in weight. She looked more like a round ball of fat, her thin legs gone, her tummy replaced by a huge potbelly resting under two swollen breasts.

“ . . . w-why are you doing this?” she moaned.

Finally the laughing burst out louder than before.

“All right, all right, we give,” somebody was chuckling from behind the walls.

“God, Dan, you ruin everything,” another voice said.

“Who are you? Why did you do this?” she kept asking.

“Honestly, it’s a sort of scientific test, if you will—“ a third voice started to say.

“Haha ha!” Dan was laughing again.

“Aaaand, we thought it’d be funny,” the third voice finished.

“So how do you feel?” the first voice asked.

“How do you think?” she attempted to grasp the situation but the rumbling dome of soft flesh her hands kept finding where her practically concave tummy use to be was unbelievable. But she tried to keep calm.

“Yeeeah, now get those clothes off and put on those over there,” a light appeared in the corner.

She sleepwalked over, unsteadily and not used to her new mass, and she almost seemed to appear in those clothes. It was the same outfit she had on before, just adjusted for her present size. But what was flattering before was no decidedly not so. Her tight shirt only rolled up revealing a sliver of her belly fat, her breasts looked constricted and bloated even in the larger shirt, and the belt buckle that before showed off the fact that her stomach was indeed quite flat was now surrounded above and below by rolls begging to be released.

She belched uncomfortably and struggled.

“Feel better?” that Dan guy laughed again.

“Jesus, Dan,” the first voice sighed.

“What did you do to me . . .?” she whimpered finally after running her hands all over her clothed, fat body.

None of them could resist bursting out hilariously at that.

“Listen hear!” she found the strength to yell authoritatively, although her chubby face seemed to dampen her voice, “Tell me why you did—this—to me and what you plan to do about it, or, or, . . . well, there’ll be trouble!”

“Okay, okay, seriously, how do you feel?”

“Like I gained a hundred pounds,” she steamed.

“No, we only doubled you’re weight, so about ninety pounds.”

“Ninety pounds!” she screamed, gripping her sides and inadvertently shaking her belly around, causing it to churn which in turn caused her to moan.

“Quiet down, you.”

“Ninety pounds!” she repeated, falling backwards into the chair again.

“Yeah, yeah, ninety pounds, but do you like it?”

“What do you think!?!”

Dan giggled, the other two seemed annoyed but had to laugh.

“So, what you’re saying is you don’t want it?”

“No! I don’t want it! Take it back!”

“All right. Jesus, who knows what these people want,” the first voice said to the other two.

Another tube came down and stuck itself to her face so fast she didn’t know how to respond. It started to suck and she felt as if her entire body was being pulled into it. She was so surprised she forgot all about her recent weight gain. It sucked the fat out, replacing the overweight figure sitting in the chair with her former, thin self.

She passed out.

“Whew,” the third voice said, “All right, who’s next?”

“Hehe, well, eventually we’ll find someone who wants all this fat.”

“You’re a sick man, Dan,” the first voice said, “But I like the way you think. Now let’s get to it. I’m not nearly as amused as I should be.”