Emlarged

Chapter 1 a new world, where the eating never ends

A young woman stood alone in a brightly lit room. Everything was white, blue, or a metallic hue akin to chrome. The woman was small in every sense of the word, only two inches over five feet tall, and painfully thin. It was not the sleek, smooth body of a woman who had exercised and dieted her way to beauty. It wasn’t a thing of plastic surgery either. No, this was the gaunt, sickly sort of emaciation that was born out of years with hardly enough food to survive. Paper thin, and slightly pale, skin hung off of a body that seemed like it was little more than bones. Emma’s only healthy-looking feature was her hair, the dishwater blonde locks were sleek, smooth, and beautiful.

Emma was hungry, she hadn’t eaten in what felt like months, but logically she knew it had been two or three days. The small woman fidgeted as she looked out the window. What was this again, the sixtieth story? But it didn’t really matter, a large, grey cityscape went out as far as the eye could see. The sky was crystal blue, showing a beautiful kind of cleanness that could almost make you forget what lay below. A sickly, broken city, where a few people owned giant skyscrapers like this, and everyone else lived on the ground below. Emma, however, was the luckiest pauper in the endless city. She had caught the eye of Mr. Smith, a name that Emma presumed was a pseudonym of some sort. A neat and put together woman, with hair done up in a tight bun, walked out to meet Emma. The woman wore high heels and a pantsuit that screamed of a position as a lawyer, businesswoman, or administrator of sort. The woman said, “Emma?” the younger woman replied, simply saying, “Yes?” The woman gestured to the door she had just stepped out of, saying, “Mister Smith will see you now.” Emma took a deep breath, feeling some kind of emotion she couldn’t lay a finger on. Anticipation? Fear, excitement? Hope and despair. They all seemed to be fighting for control of Emma’s heart and mind. But, for now Emma settled on simply following the woman who had called her.

Emma followed the woman down a plain hallway, getting occasional jolts of pain in her stomach. The raging agony of hunger had long since given way to a bleak, hopeless feeling of want that was an ever-present background in her mind. Eventually the woman stopped before an ordinary door, saying, “Step inside. Mr. Smith is waiting for you inside.

Emma had initially expected the woman to enter the door, but she simply opened it and stepped aside. Inside was a dingy, brown room that seemed like something halfway between an office, and something more private and comfortable. The room smelled faintly of something delicious, that Emma couldn’t identify. Emma’s stomach growled loudly, as if awoken by the scent. Only as he laughed, did Emma realize that there was a man present.

Sitting in one of two overstuffed armchairs, placed on opposite ends of a circular rug, was a figure who couldn’t look less like Emma if he tried. He was tall, muscular, and sported the type of short beard and mustache that hardly hid the skin under them. He held out a chocolate chip cookie while wearing a warm smile. Emma eagerly reached for the cookie, for the man to pull it back and say, “First you sh-“ to be cut off by the hungry girl lunging forward and falling face first on the ground, but having gotten the cookie. She crammed as much of the cookie as would fit into her mouth, and ravenously began to eat the rest of it as the man said, “Oh yes, you are perfect.” Emma said, “I am sorry, but I’m just so hungry.” Mr. Smith said, “It’s fine. If anything it am glad to see you so eager. I will still explain the thing you just ate for you.” Emma felt like she made a terrible mistake, but honestly wanted more food far more badly than she regretted having the one. Smith continued, “I was going to give you a warning and an offer.” Emma asked, “Warning?” trying desperately to pay attention as her body screamed at her to eat more, somehow. Smith spoke calmly, “Yes, the cookie you just ate was drugged. You may be feeling its im-“ for Emma’s stomach to loudly growl, as a shocking wave of hunger tore through her.

The man stood up, and moved his chair to the side, revealing a large stack of cardboard boxes. He said, “Each of these boxes has more cookies in it, I imagine you’ll be too hungry to talk as you are now. Besides, I want you to-“ the man was taking far too long to speak, and Emma fell upon the boxes, tearing one open to find that Smith had not lied. It was completely filled with cookies identical to the one that she had just eaten. As the woman voraciously shoved cookies into her mouth, Smith spoke in a happy tone that felt vaguely threatening, he said, “Now, these cookies are dosed with a chemical compound that I wanted you to test.” The word horrified Emma, who felt like she may die if she keeps eating. The young woman summoned up all of her willpower, and stopped eating for all of three seconds before her host said, “Don’t worry. They aren’t poisoned.” Emma fell forward onto the pile of boxes, splitting at least one of them open, which destroyed whatever will Emma had to control her feast. As Emma ate, Mr. Smith said, “They are, however, incredibly addictive, in both the literal and figurative senses of the word.” Emma felt alarm bells going off in her mind, but she kept eating. As Emma ate, Smith said, “They are also dosed with three chemicals of my own creation. The first massively increases the elasticity of your stomach, allowing you to eat many times the amount that is normally possible. In fact the new limitations of your consumption are not caused by your stomach’s limitations at all. Rather, you cannot eat after a tremendous amount, when your swollen stomach begins to crush your other internal organs.” A bolt of fear ran down Emma’s spine, causing her facial expression to fall so drastically that she felt like her face was melting. Yet, Emma continued to eat. Smith must have noticed this, as he said, “Don’t worry. That would take far more food than is present here. You are safe.” Emma could breathe easier, through her nose, because her mouth was too full of cookies to breathe through.

Smith said, “The second chemical actually lead to the promotion of its creator. It will cause you to lose consciousness around when you are eighty five percent of the way to your new stomach capacity. Essentially each cookie contains a miniscule amount of a sedative that does nothing at all, until it hits the threshold needed to render a person unconscious.

Third, and my personal favorite, the cookies contain a chemical that increases the cookies susceptibility to stomach acid, causing them to digest much more quickly than they normally would, it also increases hunger dramatically, as your body still reads your stomach as empty. If not for that, you likely would still be able to stop eating.” The man stood up, and said, “You can’t now, can you?” as he approached Emma. Only now was the young woman feeling full enough to think straight, but she simply could not will herself to stop eating. Smith continued, “I could do unspeakable things to you if I wanted to. You wouldn’t be able to move away from those cookies, even then.” Emma tried to stand up and run, more to prove to herself that she could than for any concrete reason. She didn’t even manage to stand up all the way, before her body began to feel strangely heavy, leading Emma to collapse back onto the stack of boxes, tearing open another box, and scattering cookies across the floor. “Don’t worry.” Smith said in a calm, reassuring voice, “I am not going to actually do that. Admittedly my reasons aren’t especially pure, I find the idea of taking somebody by force quite unattractive, and simply would not want to try. Besides,” and he knelt in the ground beside Emma, Smith then put a hand on her belly. Only then did Emma realize just how much she had eaten, and just how big her stomach had become. She was on her hands and knees, and her stomach reached about a third of the way to the floor. The thought made Emma panic, until she felt Smith’s hand sinking into her swollen belly. He said, “Dear God you are perfect. So greedy, I bet you would be doing the exact same thing, even if you weren’t drugged.” He laughed and said, “No. You would have fled earlier. You tried to after all.” Emma continued eating, as Smith continued to feel her stomach in silence.

Emma had no idea how much time had passed when she first had a concrete thought. This was the last box. How many boxes of cookies was that? And Emma thought of the other cookies on the floor. She realized with horror that she would gladly eat them all the moment the last box was consumed. As Emma thought on that, a knock came at the door, Smith said “Come in,” for the businesswoman from before to open the door, and push in a wheelbarrow full of boxes, muttering, “This wasn’t in the job description.” Mr. Smith said, “On the contrary you are my personal assistant. Your job is to do whatever I require of you. Nowhere in the materials I gave you did it specify the type of work.” The woman grunted and said, “Still, can’t you get someone else to attend to your, ahem, needs.” Smith laughed, and said, “Okay, nothing like this after today.” The woman set down the wheelbarrow and said “Seventeen boxes of cookies, as requested.” Emma couldn’t bring herself to stop eating long enough to speak. As the woman walked away, Mr. Smith said “Don’t worry my pet. You won’t hurt yourself. Hell, I only asked for this many cookies to be absolutely certain kf how things will go. In all honestly, I expect you to pass out before you get halfway through the boxes. Then the real feast can begin.” And he caressed Emma’s giant belly as he said, you’re already huge, I wonder how you’ll look once it’s all digested, and the fat buries every inch of you.” He leaned in and kissed Emma’s stomach, before nuzzling his face into her body, “But, for now, nearly all of it is here.”

Smith was wrong, Emma finished about three quarters of the boxes before passing out. She had a blissfully dreamless sleep, before awakening on the floor of a white room. There were red scribbles up and down the wall. Emma stared at it, until she was conscious enough to read. It was some sort of madness that marred the, otherwise clean, white walls. Eat, it said, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat. The word was repeated again and again, ceiling to floor and wall to wall, Emma gave an exasperated sigh as she began to walk around the room, only to trip over something unseen and fall to the floor. Upon hitting the ground, Emma slammed her face into something that had quite a bit of give, in fact, her face broke through it entirely. Suddenly the world went dark, but there was a familiar scent and taste assaulting her senses. Wait, a taste?!?! Emma lifted her body off of the ground and fell back, sitting on her knees as she looked around. The floor was absolutely littered in cardboard boxes. There was no doubt in Emma’s mind that each was filled with cookies. Emma reflexively licked a bit of chocolate off of her lips, before realizing what it was and recoiling backward from the chocolate, which caused her to fall back onto another box, destroying the cardboard thing and scattering even more cookies across the floor. “Cookies,” she said, only a single word, before saying “Wait, I can talk now?” she said in surprise. Other than the commands to eat, and the countless boxes, the room had only two features of note. Two doors were on one of the walls. So, despite the scent of the cookies taking up more of her mind by the second, Emma stood and tried a door. Locked. After jiggling the doorknob for a moment Emma’s mind went to the cookies. I could just have one. That scent, that taste that. . . Emma shook her head, speaking out loud, “No. That’s just the drugs messing with my head.” Emma then went to try the other doorknob. This one opened freely to reveal, a restroom. A small countertop with a sink in it, and a roll of toilet paper, next to a toilet. The room was pretty bare bones, and had nothing else in it, not even drawers in the counter. So, Emma turned around, to step out and try the other door again, “Still locked,” she said, not surprised in the slightest. The scent of the chocolate was getting stronger. No, she thought, that’s stupid, it’s the chemicals messing with my head. Emma went into the bathroom, and closed the door. Hoping to cut off the scent of chocolate. It didn’t work. Emma sat down on the floor, rocking back and forth slightly, as her mind fought with itself. She started to talk to herself, “If I have any more, I’ll end up eating till I pass out again. I bet that’s what Smith wants. Wait, why do I care? This is my chance to never go hungry again. No, I was hungry even as I ate. But, I’m not hungry now, and I can talk and think normally.” She thought back to the last month. Emma could take feeling hungry, but what she HATED was never knowing where her next meal was coming from, and that’s a problem she’d never have again. Emma didn’t even notice that she was getting up and stepping back into the cookie room, until she was standing above an open box of cookies, deeply inhaling the scent. Emma began speaking again, “Why do I care if rich boy gets a kick out of it. I was debating becoming a fucking prostitute for food when I. . . Wait, why can’t I remember what brought me to his tower in the first place? Something about never going hungry again. Maybe this is what I wanted all along, what I needed.” Emma was certain that, on some level she was making excuses to herself, trying to justify doing what she wanted to anyway, and that smell was only getting stronger as time went on. So, why fight it? Emma got on her knees and grabbed a cookie, taking a bite. This is when “The Real Feast” began, as Smith had said.

Emma didn’t know how long she was eating before it happened. Mr. Smith came into the room, looked at Emma stuffing her face with cookies as quickly as she could, frantically trying to eat more and faster, even while she is at her upper limits. Then he chuckled, saying “Yeah, you’re definitely perfect.” As he went and sat on the soft, cushy floor beside her. Smith said, “So, what I was saying to say before is this. I want you to push the limits of the chemical cocktail in the cookies.” Emma nodded quickly, to indicate that she got it, without slowing down her eating. Mr. Smith continued, “I’m making them for an, admittedly selfish, reason.” He then sighed deeply, and said, “I am a bit of a pervert, and I honestly only really feel alive when I see a woman eating, preferably in large quantities. So, when the folks at central told me that they wanted to test the limits of how far they could push every, single human ability. J immediately volunteered to spearhead the research into the ability to eat. I am lead to believe that many portions of the process are lead by people with similar motives. But, simply put, my goal is to find out exactly how much you are able to eat. The limitations of the treatments that I mentioned before are purely theoretical, you are the first person given this cocktail of chemicals. So, what I want you to do is simple, and I suspect is in line with your own desires anyway. Eat as much as you can. Push your limits, don’t stop, no matter what. You will be stopped before you are seriously hurt, so don’t be afraid. As I said before, you should be knocked out well before you are at risk of seriously harming yourself.” He then put a hand on Emma’s distended stomach, and said, “I remember what you wanted when we first spoke months ago, and don’t worry. I will never leave you without food to eat. Even once this process is completed, once Central knows the limits of the humans body. I will continue this for your sake, and for my own.” He let his hand sink into Emma’s belly, and kissed it, before saying, “I can feel your stomach digesting the cookies, and I have never felt such a rush before. I never want this to stop, not for one second.” He then kissed her stomach once again.

As she scarfed down cookies, Emma wondered to herself. Is that what I said? I never want to be without food again? Well, I never would have thought of this exactly, but that is what I wanted. Emma’s prior idea came back to her and she thought. So, there is no reason to resist. I will be taken care of here. If anything, my one concern is that I may leave Smith disinterested in me, and I know exactly what I can do to stop that. It’s what I want to do anyway too. Stop fighting this, just eat more. As Emma finished a box, she noticed that Smith slide another box near her. Eat more, get fat, be beyond plump, beyond any sane, rational limitations on fatness, on fullness, and on eating. As Emma ate she felt her stomach touch the cold floor, and had another idea. Eventually I will be so big that this happens on an empty stomach. But I’ll never know when that is, because I’ll never let my stomach be empty again. A combination of excitement and dread filled Emma as she continued to eat.