Chapter 3 - iii. making room (before)

Izzy was nervous about her roommate interview and the approach down the long hallway didn’t help.

Around the curve, she heard one of the apartment doors open and as she got closer, saw a fit woman in her lycra gym clothes walking away. They shared a glance and the woman looked down at Izzy’s 5’4”, 144 pound body and smiled. It made Izzy feel uncomfortable and confused.

Realizing she must be nearing her destination, she turned her attention to the apartment numbers. 423 to her right, 424, her potential future home, to her left. The same door the woman just walked out of. Was that a visitor? Or one of the roommates?

Izzy knocked on the door.

“Coming!” called a sweet voice.

The soles of Izzy's shoes pulsed with minor, rhythmic tremors from the floor as she waited. The sound of thuds came closer until eventually the door swung open, answered by an adorable fat girl with dark, curly hair and deep, friendly eyes. She wore a flowing top with dark leggings stretched over her lower-half.

“Hi!” she announced, extending her hand. “I’m Dion.”

Izzy took her chubby hand to greet her. “Izzy!” she replied, trying to match Dion’s friendly energy.

“Come on in!” Dion invited, stepping aside so Izzy could enter.

Stepping into the apartment that may soon become her home, Izzy immediately tried to take stock of its dimensions, but first noticed the faint scent of overripe produce and parmesan.

Dion quickly snatched up a can of air freshener and sprayed it around them without a word.

Izzy soon found herself in the living room, where a bulbous woman of at least 500 pounds occupied the entirety of a couch. She was breathing heavily, exhausted, her exposed bean bag-sized belly seeming to pulsate with every labored gasp.

“Madilyn, this is Izzy!” Dion announced to the obese woman clad in pink, stretchy lounge clothes strained to their limits, unable to contain some of the blubber busting between her top and pants.

“Hi...Izzy. Call me...Maddie,” the fat woman panted. A muffled rumble groaned from beneath Maddie’s massive bulk and she whimpered.

“Maddie just finished a huge feeding,” Dion explained, spritzing the air again. She then turned to Maddie on the couch: “Honey, let that digest, and after I talk to Izzy, I’ll get the camera ready and we’ll get you on the scale.”

“I can’t...move…” Maddie groaned and farted again.

“Oh sweetie,” Dion said, in a motherly manner. “Of course you can’t move. You just ate seventy-five-hundred calories worth of fast food.”

“Oh,” Maddie grunted in torment as if she had forgotten. Another deep groan of gas emanated from below the bulging behemoth.

Dion turned to Izzy. “Please excuse her, but if you end up living here, that’s just something you’ll have to get used to.” She sprayed the air again.

“Oh, sure!” Izzy said politely, utterly confused by the situation she found herself in, and struggling to figure out how to respond.

“Come with me!” Dion said, waddling towards the kitchen with Izzy in tow.

Without the distractions, Izzy was finally able to take in her surroundings. She almost forgot she was in an apartment (condo, really), the entire living space seeming more like the interior of a house. The kitchen area was in the center, with an island counter and enormous, state-of-the-art appliances.

The four chairs surrounding the dining table were wide and sturdy and after Dion took a seat, Izzy followed suit. She took note that even taking the chair next to Dion, the table’s landscape separated them by quite a margin. Near the center of the table, just within reach, was a dish of Oreo cookies.

“So why don’t you start by telling me a little bit about yourself,” Dion broke the ice, sliding the cookie dish closer.

“Sure!” Izzy said, plucking a cookie and taking a bite. She held her hand over her mouth as she chewed and spoke. “Um I’m a photographer for a PR firm.”

Izzy swallowed the bite and continued: “They kind of send me around, getting pictures for clients for use in training manuals, magazine ads, that sort of thing. And I’m thinking of going freelance so I’m just trying to find a living situation that’ll let me focus on my work while not leaving me destitute.” Izzy followed up with a nervous chuckle and Dion laughed, much to Izzy’s relief.

She took another bite, chewed, covered her mouth again, and went on: “And yeah, so your ad sounded super intriguing and I just wanted to learn more about what you meant when you said the ‘content creation’ factors into the rent.”

“Right!” Dion began, mentally preparing to recite the pitch she’s mostly memorized at this point. “So Maddie, myself, and our other roommate Becca set up a modeling website called ‘Apartment 424.’”

“‘Modeling?’” Izzy asked, not meaning to sound incredulous or condescending, considering Dion and Maddie’s weight.

Dion laughed it off. “Yeah, we’re feedees and gainers.” She began rubbing her belly, a reflex she developed when she started feeling exposed or nervous. “People pay to watch us eat and gain weight,” she explained. “So they buy image packs, video clips, things like that.”

“And the lady I passed on the way in was Becca, the other roommate?” Izzy asked.

Dion laughed again. “Oh, absolutely not!” She laughed some more before composing herself. “That was Amber, one of our more frequent clients. No, Becca’s in her room right now. She, umm, can’t get around too easily these days. I’ve actually cut back on my own gaining so I can help take care of her. As of this morning, I’m only about 384.”

“Oh, wow,” Izzy said, unsure how Dion would want her to react. She couldn’t tell if Dion was lamenting her weight for being too much...or not enough. “So um, if I live here, I would be helping photograph the content?”

Dion grinned mischievously as she shook her head. “Oh, honey, you’d be helping create it.”

Izzy gulped. From behind her, another fart purred from beneath Maddie’s swelling bulk. Izzy glanced over her shoulder and saw Maddie’s fat, pillowy form squirm as her belly absorbed her feast, padding out her body. She turned back to Dion’s chubby smile. “How, exactly?” Izzy asked, deciding not to beat around the bush.

“Well, Amber, the lady you passed in the hall, represents the most lucrative service we offer: wealthy clients desperate to vicariously experience pure gluttony without sacrificing their own bodies. They basically pay us generous amounts of money to consume generous amounts of food. Some do it in person, again, like Amber, and others do it remotely via webcam.” Dion glanced up at a clock on the wall. “In fact, poor Maddie over there has a webcam appointment in fifteen minutes.”

Apparently, Maddie heard Dion because she moaned. “Oh no,” Maddie whimpered at the reminder. “I don’t know if I’ll be ready in time. I need to make room.” Maddie grimaced as she pushed out a bellow of gas that caused the couch to buzz and a light tremor to run through the floor. The scent blossomed from her and enveloped Izzy and Dion in the kitchen.

Izzy did her best to covertly yet politely cover her nose.

“Atta girl! Get them all out,” Dion encouraged Maddie and turned back to Izzy, who was munching on her fourth cookie. “Do you have any questions, sweetie?”

Izzy swallowed her bite, tossed the rest of the cookie in her mouth, chewed some more, held up a finger to buy herself a bit more time, and swallowed the rest of the snack. “Is she always like that?” Izzy asked with a small backwards jerk of her head, motioning towards Maddie.

Dion chuckled. “Oh we all get that way after a feeding; after a good one, at least. But neither of us compare to Becca. That girl’s ass sounds like a cruise ship approaching shore in a fog.”

Izzy laughed, beginning to feel at ease. But then she thought about something: “So when you said it was something I would have to get used to…” she began.

“I meant, if you end up living here and becoming a model, you would have to get used to doing it,” Dion clarified.

“Huh,” Izzy said, squinting in thought, absentmindedly reaching for another cookie.

-- to be continued...