Chapter 1

An idea had come to her in a dream and she couldn't stop thinking about it from the moment she woke up. It had left her with such a ravenous, erotic appetite, unlike anything she'd experienced in years; it was impeding on her ability to focus on the basic tasks of the day. Eventually she shut herself away in her apartment and began looking up videos on the right way to try it- but even that was too much of a demand on her attention span, which was now as short as that of an animal deep in heat. She turned the water on in the bathtub and locked the door, and when it was warm enough she turned the hose on to the shower head and inserted it into herself. It started to gush into her, and it felt good but it was also uncomfortable. She could feel the effect of it as the water ran upwards into her body and began to fill out her modest stomach area; the skin tightened a little, giving her a bloating feeling. Never before in her life would she have tried this, but for whatever reason, now that she had been compelled to it was giving her a unique kind of pleasure that was quickly mounting. Tighter and tighter her belly got as the minutes passed, the discomfort beginning to turn into pain, the pain approaching an erotic fulfillment that she was lusting after desperately, watching her carefully-maintained figure turn into a big water balloon. She poked at it with the hand that wasn't holding the hose; it jiggled once but was otherwise very stiff. It was getting so taut it had a sheen to it. She wanted to hold her breath, believing herself to be approaching a strange, wonderful climax . . .
But then the unexpected happened: her tight, round little belly bounded outward in front of her by a good couple of inches, sloshing back and forth from the exertion, as if it had just been released from a rubber band holding it back. She gasped, eyes wide. Her near-climax subsided somewhat. She tentatively felt at it with her hand, even as more water poured into her from the shower head. Now that it was a little bigger, it was no longer tight and stiff but exceptionally soft and jiggly. Touching it sent some very enjoyable shivers over her skin. She put as much pressure as she could on it with a couple of her fingers, and watched with surprise as they sunk into the tissue. It was somethin she'd never experienced, and on a normal day she'd be justifiably horrified and wonder what was happening, and how long this effect would last and whether she had to worry about being seen like this . . . but for whatever reason, her mind now was an empty slate, thirsty for more. She sat back and relaxed again, and watched as the fluid in her continued to build, because with it again was the building erotic pleasure. It was losing its soft, jelly-like properties and turning into a little dome in front of her, tightening up similar to before. The blood pulsed through her pelvis as she grew wet at the sensation. Again, she was entering into that trance-like state before a divine new climax. "Mmmm. . . nnmmm . . ."
And again it was refused to her. Her belly instead burgeoned outward another couple inches, like before. The joy of it subsided like before, and like before when she touched it, it was soft and doughy, bigger than it had ever been. Now she was perplexed enough that she wanted to try to understand what was happening. She turned the water off, gingerly removed the hose from her body, and stepped out of the tub and into the main apartment. With each step she could hear the sloshing sound coming from her extended abdomen, and although she wanted to gain her senses back enough to despise and question the changes coming over her, she couldn't get that far. She still couldn't deny how much her own body was turning her on. Unthinking and unfocused, she found herself in her kitchen, and opened up the refrigerator and freezer doors. One gallon of ice cream stared her in the face from the cold freezer compartment, cookies and cream. It had been from the breakup; it was nearly the only time in her life she allowed herself that kind of indulgence, before today. She shut the doors, got a spoon, and began to eat straight from the carton. There was something about the sugary treat that satisfied her. To her own surprise, she just stood there, downing one spoonful after another, and soon it had gone from being three-quarters full to nearly empty, and largely what was left had melted. She moaned as she went, both because it was so delicious and because it was adding onto her state of arousal. As before while in the bathtub, her stomach was starting to approach a ball-like state, yet she told herself she was still hungry. Nothing else in the cabinets or fridge appealed to her as she glazed over them all with her eyes, though. Nothing could be as rich and delicious as ice cream.
Which is when the next evolution in her ideas hit her. Cradling the carton like a baby as she finished it off, waddling back into her bedroom, she started searching her wardrobe for clothes that would fit her. Her only pair of sweatpants sat deep in her dresser, and when she put them on the waistband stretched but still ultimately fit her. She looked through one shirt after the other. They were all way too small! Why had she been so picky about shirt sizes when shopping? . . . But, stuffed in one corner was the one shirt left over from her ex, forgotten during a hurried move-out from a couple months ago. He hadn't been huge, but he had certainly been bigger than her. She buttoned it up and although it too was a bit uncomfortably tight, it covered her. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror. Wearing his shirt with nothing underneath recreated the sort of walk-of-shame look that she remembered from when they'd first started dating, except now underneath it she looked very pregnant. Once more, some irritatingly rational voice in her wanted her to be repulsed, but she found herself smiling at her reflection instead. This was something she had denied herself for so long, yearning for it without ever realizing it, always repressing this bizarre desire in order to please the people around her. Why had she wasted so much time on the opinions of everyone except her own? She didn't know.
She slipped on some shoes without trying to bend down (it seemed too great an effort to try), grabbed her keys and wallet, and headed downstairs. Just outside and across the street was an ice cream shop that she had never gone to, in her lifelong pursuit to keep others happy by trying to remain healthy. She stood impatiently in line, discreetly giving her new belly the occasional squeeze under the large shirt. At first she asked for a large milkshake, but almost immediately realized that wasn't going to satisfy her for more than a couple of minutes. So instead she added on: "Do you sell gallons?" The man behind the counter taking her order, also the business's owner, had his eyebrows firmly cocked at her, uncertain if he recognized her as she had walked past his establishment many times but had never stopped in. She had always been so skinny, though. He answered "yes" hesitantly, and she then said, "Okay, I'd like a gallon of cookie dough. Oh, and one of mint chocolate chip." He jotted down her order on a notepad. "Oh, and uh . . . one gallon of Neapolitan. And one more, uh . . . . peanut butter cup, please." If the shop didn't need this kind of support from more customers, he might have cut her off like a late-night bartender. Instead he just asked, "anything else?" She deliberated adding on a request for one flavor labelled "birthday cake", but instead handed him her money and was soon waddling back across the street to where she lived, arms full of gallon cartons, sucking from a straw on her original milkshake as a form of immediate relief. The owner and his other customers watched her leave with a sort of awe.