Chapter 4

“162!” Kim gasped as she bent over and looked at the scale.



She had to bend forward now to see the numbers, her perpetually stuffed gut had turned into a tight, round ball of fat hanging over her waistband. Now up to a D cup, her breasts remained quite perky for being so large. Her hips and thighs had softened and widened, but the brunt of her lower body gain was in her bulging behind. No longer tight and toned, her ass cheeks were twin balls of fat, sticking out over six inches behind her.



With a sigh of resignation, she started wrapping the measuring tape around herself. Her chest was a 36D, up from a 32C. Her thighs were now 21 inches instead of 17. Her hips and ass had packed on nine inches, now up to 43. The pot belly that arced out from her breasts to her pelvis stretched the tape measure to a full 37 inches.



Kim wasn’t sure why she kept track of her growth, chalking it up to morbid fascination. It was kind of like finding out the exact caliber of the bullet that was about to end your life. Her life was in shambles. Shunned by her friends after blimping up, humiliated daily at work as she was fed and fattened like a prized pig, Kim didn’t know which way to turn.



Spiraling into depression, she jiggled her way into the kitchen and grabbed a half gallon of ice cream. That, along with a bag of chips, a frozen pizza, and a two liter of soda were all gone by the time she staggered into bed. Belching and groaning, she eventually drifted off to sleep.



At her desk a few days later Kim had just finished off a dozen doughnuts (on top of the large breakfast at home). Leaning back in her chair with a soft burp, she was rubbing her full belly as she checked her e-mail. Just then Colleen came with another dozen doughnuts. She made sure to stick around until Kim had eaten every last one, puffing and groaning by the end.



Shortly after Colleen left Rick walked out of his office.



“Grab that Henderson file, will you?” he asked Kim.



With a grunt she bent forward to open the bottom drawer. To her horror the button on the slacks burst off, clanging off the bottom of her desk. Rick snorted in laughter as Kim flushed to her roots, scurrying off to the women’s room as fast as her painfully stuffed belly would allow.



The zipper on her pants had lowered itself all the way by the time Kim finally got herself locked in a stall. Almost crying in frustration, she tried in vain to pull the two flaps together. Finally giving up, she zipped the pants back up halfway and pulled her shirt down far enough to hide the damage. She informed Rick that she had to run home for new clothes and then sped away in a cloud of self-loathing.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~



Several weeks later it was time for the company picnic. Kim was up to a beyond-just-plump 185 pounds. Her E cups sat atop her heavily fattened ball belly, which in turn hung well over her size 18 jeans. Her ass now stuck out a foot behind her, two wobbly buns tightly packed into a denim prison. Thick love handles peeked out from her perpetually shrinking shirts, almost enough now for her to rest her hands on.



Kim was thankful that her face was almost unchanged. It was almost a curse as well, she couldn’t be mistaken for someone else. Whenever she ran into an old acquaintance, they were able to immediately identify her. Conversations inevitably led to her fattened physique, and Kim was forced to use a variety of explanations.



“I entered you in a contest at the picnic,” Rick told her a week beforehand.



Kim looked at him quizzically, what did he have in mind?



“It’s the Pie Run,” he said with an evil grin. “Five tables, each containing two pies. Each table is separated by 100 yards. Whoever eats all the pies and gets to the finish line first is the winner. It’s an idea I pitched to the committee a few weeks ago, they loved it.”



Kim groaned.