Vegetables make you fat

chapter 4

My lack of enthusiasm only made Jessica more furious. Rolling her eyes, she threw her hands up into the air and began pacing the room, breasts jostling angrily with each step.
“Hurry up!” Jessica shook her arms frantically.
“Hello,” I said quietly. “Room service?”
“This is room service,” a young voice answered.
“Yes, hello. I was just calling to check and see if –”
“Stop trying to have a pleasant chat and figure out what’s wrong with me!”
“Yes, sir?” Room service asked. “Can I help you?”
“Ah, yes. Give me a second… hey, Jessica? Can you stop yelling? I can’t hear –”
“Help me!” she growled, a taint of panic in her voice as her hands held the sides of her waist. “It’s getting worse!”
Slightly alarmed, I set aside the telephone. “Are you alright? Tell me what’s wrong…”
“Inside me…” she huffed, stomach rumbling. “I can feel it. I…”
With a gasp, Jessica braced herself against the bed as if ready to puke. Instead, with gritted teeth, she arched her back and twerked her hips.
“What’s wrong?” I stared with petrified curiosity.
“My ass! It’s – ugh!”
Before my eyes, Jessica groaned and bucked her butt like a beast in heat. Her cheeks, fitting snugly in her custom-designer jeans, popped with physical effort. Then, as I glanced at the abandoned phone beneath the horse-herd panorama, I noticed that her cheeks were growing with each twerk.
“Nnuhh!” she grunted as her jeans creaked with strain. “Can you turn off that stupid TV already?”
Ripping my eyes off her swelling cheeks, I turned to find the television wasn’t playing Breaking Bad anymore, but some cowboy western, Comanche Indians whooping on horseback at full gallop. When did the channel change?
“Where’s the remote?” I asked. “I can’t find –”
Jessica shoved me aside and pointed the remote at the screen like a witch casting a death-spell, but the thing didn’t turn off. Her ass had swelled within the confines of the dark denim, sticking out like a ripened peach, but the convulsions seemed to have stopped for the moment.
“What the fucking shit!” she tossed the remote at me like a tomahawk. “What’s happening to me Darby?” she tugged at her jeans in vain to adjust their tight fit. “What’s…”
A strange bubbling sound gurgled deep within her body. Suddenly, her right thigh exploded with fat in all directions, filling its confines to the max, curvy and luscious. Just as she began to gasp at her latest expansion, her left thigh followed suit.
“You’re getting thick,” I said with awe.
“I’m getting fat!” Jessica shook her fists at the floor with stiffened arms. “Look what they did to me!”
“I don’t think that they – I mean, how could they –”
“Darby, you’re not helping! Why aren’t you on the phone?” Jessica winced as her hips twitched, the seams of her jeans stretching taught. “Get back on the phone and tell them to call the hospital! It’s getting worse.”
As I backed away towards the phone again, Jessica stood between the bed and the television, running her hands over the top of her navel. The rumbling in her stomach had grown into a subtle bubbling, like running water in a submerged pipe.
“Hello, roomservice?” I asked the phone.
“Yes, I’m still here.”
“Can you uh…” I glanced back at Jessica, distracted by the sight of her tits swelling to the size of basketballs. “Can you give the ambulance a call and have them come up to our room?”
“Is everything all right up there? What’s going on?”
“Not too sure, but you’ll –”
“Get that ambulance over here now!” Jessica screamed.
“—you’ll get that ambulance, right?”
“They’re on their way now.”
“Great. Bye, then. Hey Jess…” I walked closer to Jessica after hanging the phone. “They say the ambulance is coming.”
She glared at me, fingers still holding her flat stomach. “Why are you so calm about this? It was you, wasn’t it? You poisoned my food!”
“I thought you might be doing it.”
“No! Why would I make my body look like… this?” she slapped the sides of her thighs, straining against her jeans. Meanwhile, her tits were so large and swollen that they were making her shirt ride up, exposing her belly as it pressed snuggly against the button on her jeans.
“Hey…” I pointed. “Your stomach…”