Chapter 4

Vanessa gasped for air as she whimpered in pain, her stomach gurgling loudly and aching as she pleaded for some relief. She’d been stupid enough to wear a belt with her high waisted jeans and she was facing the consequences now.

She was on pastry #97 and it was 1:35 pm.

She still had over three hours left of her ‘shift’ and had 40 pastries left for her to try.

As much as she wanted to try to keep face, she’d become a babbling mess after the 30th pastry. She’d gone through all apple flavored products by that time and the 31st was a dense, greasy, oily, and decadent custard-filled donut that was doube glazed with a dark chocolate coating.

Vanessa desperately wanted to vomit. She wanted for her stomach to relieve itself at that point early on from the horrible pressure she felt. Her stomach by then had bloated but was only slightly pressing against the button and zipper of her jeans. It was uncomfortable but felt nothing like how it did now.

She’d never felt so full in her life. Her stomach felt like a solid mass, perfectly round with rosy-red skin as it intended alongside her bellybutton against her belt. It provided no relief as the scientists wrote down little notes her and there while taunting her.

“Does the fatty want another cake?” The scientist that had originally buckled her in had taken lead with feeding her as the other one continued to take notes.

With the pen in her hand, her partners laughed. “She wants something but she isn’t telling us.”

Vanessa’s mascara was dry against her cheeks swollen and sore from chewing as she begged. “Please, just let me go!” She nearly gagged when the donut was shoved down her throat.

“No… that’s not what you really want…” said the cruel scientist as she reached for another pastry; this one was a peach tea cake with a thin layer of frosting and crumbles. “Tell us what you want…” she reached down with an empty hand, finger grazing the metal of Vanessa’s belt, “and… maybe you’ll stop at 100.”

Vanessa knew this would be her accepting defeat for the day. But she had to. She needed to. This job was entirely different to what she’s been expecting and knew she would need to come up with an entirely different plan if she was meant to succeed.

“Please…” she let out a guttural belch, “please open my belt…” Tomorrow would be a new day.

The scientist obliged, opening Vanessa’s expensive leather belt before quickly moving her hands out of the way as the first button of her jeans popped off and her severely swollen stomach found just a bit more relief.

“Oh my goood…” Vanessa whined, face beet red with humiliation as agonizing relief coursed through her. “We’re done! We’re done!” She’d said the truth and now would be done after one more pastry.

“Actually…” The scientist with a pen in her hand used the blunt end to poke Vanessa’s stomach, “your chip is telling me that your body still has the capacity to stretch by nearly 20 percent more. And, I mean,” she laughed as she grabbed a blueberry pie-tart, “what’s a couple more?”

---

Vanessa got off the bus near her new neighborhood in shame as her aching, rotund pot-belly shook with every step she took.

Her body hurt as did her ego.

The two women who’d been assigned to her today had been nothing but vindictive and malicious, horrible to the touch as they pushed her to her very limits.

It shook her to her very core as Vanessa recalled what she’d been told only yesterday: she’d been assigned weight gain and stomach capacity.

This was her norm. This was what she was going to do the rest of her life.

Shaking the terrifying thought out of her head quickly, Vanessa tried to hurry to her home before anyone else could spot her. She wasn’t exactly eager to make new friends while her pants buttons and zipper were undone. It was a miracle they hadn’t fallen down at any point in getting home.

Shutting and locking the door behind her, Vanessa fell back against the wall and slid to the bottom as fresh tears pricked her eyes.

She’d failed today. Her very first day, one she’d meant to use to fight against the system, had gotten her in an instant. She was too swollen to even bend over, her ankles and wrists were sore from being strapped in, and the food coma creeping in meant that she wouldn’t be able to go to the gym right now to attempt maintaining her healthy figure. In fact, she was sure that one step on a bicycle would make her pass out from nausea.

In fact, all she really wanted to do right now was take a long shower to clean herself of the day and take a long night’s sleep.

But she knew she couldn’t.

This was what they wanted: submission.

Vanessa knew that plenty of girls were right now in the same position as she was; sobbing and coddling themselves, forcing themselves to accept their fate because they felt incapable of staying true to themselves and true to what was right. But Vanessa was different. She knew she was.

Sniffling, she quickly got up and headed to her bedroom. “Tomorrow will be better.” She said to herself as she pulled out a simple short-sleeve dress from her closet. “You’re prepared.” She grabbed an old gym bag and shoved inside a water bottle, sports bra, yoga pants, and pair of running shoes. “Tomorrow…” She murmured to herself as she grabbed her alarm clock from her moving boxes and set it to the sunrise.

Placing it on her nightstand, she quickly stripped and took a shower before getting into bed early.

---

Slamming her hand down against her beeping alarm clock, Vanessa felt groggy and ,shockingly enough, hungry. In fact, she actually gasped when she pulled back her bedsheets and found a nearly perfectly flat stomach staring back at her.

It was like yesterday never happened!

If it hadn’t been for the lingering sensation of sugar coursing through her body, she would’ve convinced herself it was a bad dream.

Slowly getting up, wary of her body, she walked to her bathroom and checked herself out in the mirror. Long, beautiful, flowing long hair? Check. Stunning green eyes? Check. Impeccable jawline with sunken-in cheeks and enviable plump lips? Check and check.

She went down her tan body, looking over each and every detail. Her body looked practically the same as it did yesterday down to her petite feet and french manicure. Turning around, she found her ass just as flat and invisible as before but when she lifted her gaze she made a face.

On the underside of her arm was a black ink splotch that she knew nothing would remove. It was a small patch from where they’d inserted the chip. Everyone who was given a chip had the ink patch as insertion would trigger a microscopic sack to explode. She’d been explained some time as a freshman in college that the ink held odd little microbes to assist scientists with reading up to date information about the body and it’s status, but she’d brushed it off thinking she’d never have it.

And now here it was. A stain against her perfectly clear skin.

“Some models cover it up,” She murmured to herself as she reached for a bottle of foundation and squirted some against it. Grabbing a small sponge, she began to dab at her skin to blend it in and cover it up. But she found the patch seeping through her makeup, unwilling to fade away and hide.

Tensing up, Vanessa quickly dropped her brush and turned her body back around to stop looking it at. Taking a deep breath in and out, she put her hair into a bun, brushed her teeth, and went back into her bedroom to get ready for her first morning workout of the week.

Taking her pulse, she headed out of the house and got into the rhythm of a light jog to start off.

Perfect. This was perfect.

She just had to keep up an exercise routine and--

Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, already out of breath.

Taking a step to the side near a tree for her to hold herself against, she checked her phone and realized the time. 5:35 am. She’d jogged for exactly five minutes and was barely keeping it up. Shit!

She groaned, panting and slumping down to the floor as she realized just exactly what was going on. Her physic, as envious as it was, wasn’t exactly achieved through hard work. Sure, her mother used their wealth to maintain her impressive figure through drugs and her father hired a private trainer so he could have assistance for two hours every day at the gym, but their figures were also given a genetic benefit. Both parents came from quick metabolisms and thin bodies. So, Vanessa was the same. Really, the most effort she’d ever put into her body was occasional bouts of starvation that, at the time, she’d been able to easily do under the belief that it was needed as a future model. She’d never once touched a treadmill or a 5-pound weight.

And now, it was finally biting her in the ass.

Groaning, she gave herself a few minutes rest before getting up and attempting another jog back to her place.

It was agonizing, grueling even as she stumbled up a gentle slope back to her home. She’d even made sure to look away as two girls across the street were going opposite her direction in a similarly desperate morning run. Instead, she jogged even quicker to her home and dove for the fridge water dispenser. Chugging an entire glass of water, she pathetically tried to think of another solution.

She still had another hour before needing to get ready for her work and she subconsciously feared what punishment there could be for someone who was late.

Oh, jumping jacks! She could do some jumping jacks, a couple of push ups, and round it all off with some squats and some jogging in place before taking a shower and getting ready for the day.

This time, she would be ready.

---

Vanessa felt ashamed of herself as she stood on the bus and held tightly to a nearby pole as she watched the streets pass with every stop.

Her morning exercise had been a bust.

She’d gotten shockingly tired and out of breath after just a few jumping jacks. When she jumped to her feet after her first burpee, she’d gotten too light headed to keep going. Not to mention the fact that she’d felt so parched after such little exercise that she’d accidentally bloated herself with water after chugging two entire bottles in just a few large gulps.

With the water sloshing in her relatively flat belly, she got off the bus and headed into the same building as yesterday.

Her heart raced in her chest and her palms began to sweat as she got into line and waited for permission to enter an elevator.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted another girl fidgeting. She had an anxious look to her, eyes wet and red from crying as she shifted her weight from side to side. She was looking around, staring at the corners of the hallway and at the various employees, looking at them over and over and over again.

And suddenly, she ran.

Vanessa, however, didn’t even have enough time to cheer the poor girl on before she was immediately tackled to the nearest wall and pushed against it by a security officer. She begged for release as her hands were pulled to her back and her wrists manually held together. Another officer came in, speaking into their radio before pulling her to a door that led to a separate hallway, her tears and cries fading away the moment the door shut behind them.

Turning her head to a scientist, Vanessa couldn’t help but question the circumstances.

“What’s going to happen to her?”

“Hm?” The scientist looked up from her clipboard, a bored look on her face. “Oh, if we see that there’s any runners or people not trying to behave, we have to send them to a specialist.”

Vanessa chewed on her lower lip. “A specialist?”

The woman nodded. “Hone in on her category and really push for her to achieve the most that she can.”

And that was that.

In a matter of seconds, Vanessa was being pushed to the nearest elevator before she could even ask a follow up question.

---

The cycle was agonizing to her.

She now had over a week of experience under her belt and she didn’t enjoy it one bit.

Wake up. Go to the factory. Be forcibly stuffed to the point of crying with various types of junk food and pastries. Go home. Fail at working out. Go to sleep due to a food coma.

Vanessa was now achieving nearly 12 hours of sleep a night, completely uninterrupted.

She was still waking up tired and drowsy, even if she didn’t understand why exactly. She blamed the sugar crash from so many desserts.

But here she was, sitting in the same chair as always, wondering how she’d so quickly lost her energy to fight back at the system as she adjusted her jeans and pulled at her shirt.

The pastries were nearby, like always, but she’d yet to be strapped in.

She appreciated the freedom while she had it, but knew it was better to behave than to run and find out what exactly her punishment would be.

Today, her assigned scientist was a shapely woman with beautiful eyes behind large framed glasses.

“Congratulations on hitting 10 days,” the woman said simply, walking over to Vanessa with a pen in her hand. “We’ll be doing a simple check in today.”

“Today?” Vanessa toyed with the metal of her belt. “Why not when I hit a week?”

“We do it in intervals. 10, 25, 50, and 100 days. After that, it’s to our discretion.”

Vanessa could only nod quietly as the women leaned down to pull out a contraption from underneath a table. “Please, stand on the scale for me.”

Oh. Here it was. The moment of no return.

With bated breath, Vanessa took a few moments to prepare herself before she slowly stood up and kicked off her shoes. Anything to make the scale a little bit lighter for her.

Stepping on, she waited for the scale to adjust itself before the numbers appeared nice and bright for them to both see.

“120 pounds. You’ve gained 12 pounds in ten days.” The woman couldn’t hide her grin as she jot down her notes. “Congratulations. You’re ahead of schedule by two entire pounds.”

Vanessa’s blood ran cold. “Wh-What?” Her vision went blurry as tears began to collect themselves.

How could this have happened!? 12 pounds in less than two weeks!? In less than a single month!? She didn’t feel like she had gained that much! In fact, she barely felt like she gained anything at all! She was still as thin as ever! This had to be a lie.

“Mhmm. We’re aiming for a single pound a day for you. Ideally, we’d like for you to gain about 30 pounds a month and see where we end up by the end of a year before we adjust your plan.”

Vanessa nearly fainted, stumbling backwards as she found herself seated again just so that she wouldn’t fall over. “That--” She began to sob, choked out words spitting out. “That’s 360 pounds in a year!”

Pressing a button on a device, the seat automatically strapped Vanessa in before she could make a dash for the nearest exit. “Exactly.” The scientist began to write down a few more notes. “Of course, we won’t just be analyzing your weight. We’d like to see where exactly excess fat and mass will end up on you. You would be surprised…” the woman leaned against the table with a sigh, “Some girls get it in the places everyone wants. You know, those K-cups and hips so wide with a butt so big it’s practically a table to eat off of.”

Vanessa whimpered.

“Then, of course, there’s the regular cases. Some on their stomach, arms, legs, faces, all rather evenly dispersed.” She grabbed a nearby pie, still in it’s carton with an apple drawing on it. “However, some girls end up finding out they’ve got unlucky genes. Three chins, stomachs so big that when they sit down it hangs over their knees, kankles you wouldn’t ever believe. I’ve seen girls with arms as big as their thighs, even. Hell, I’ve seen girls turn into near perfect orbs. Back fat big enough to blend into their ass with shoulders broad enough that you feel like they would roll like marbles.” The scientist snickered to herself as she unboxed the pie and took a few steps Vanessa’s way.

“Why don’t we see how you turn out? Hm?”

Immediately, she shot her hand out, sharp nails digging into Vanessa’s delicate cheeks as her mouth was forced open and the pie was shoved down her throat.

By the end of her session, Vanessa was left in a haze as she walked back to the bus station, her belly rotund and taught with red skin. As she looked around at the other girls joining her, she couldn’t help but notice who’s bras were starting to look tight and who were beginning to develop love-handles.

She couldn’t help but let her hand roll over her hip as she waited, just aware enough to wonder how long her clothes at home would still fit her.