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A click of her thumb, and Lalia’s voice chimed through the speaker of Jane’s smartphone. Watching a video of her roommate on Instagram despite the fact that she was just meters above her head would have seemed odd to Jane just a few weeks ago. But recently it was proving the only reliable way to keep in touch with her. Many people much further away also seemed very interested in Lalia’s daily life.

“Morning cuties! Lalia checking in here, wishing you all a very happy Monday and nothing but positive vibes!” the small image of the large redhead trilled.

Jane poked diligently with her through a bowl of tasteless own-brand cereal, sat at the kitchen breakfast bar. She clutched her phone above the table, and took just as little pleasure prodding at that with her thumb as she did chasing muesli with a spoon around the dish in front of her.

Lalia’s Instagram account was of course the first, most recent story on Jane’s news feed, despite that fact that it wasn’t even 9am yet. Jane scooped another spoonful of cereal into her mouth as Lalia’s subtly made-up face moved closer on screen. Her plump, red lips blew a kiss to the camera,

“Mwah, love you all!” she breathed, flashing her trademark alluring grin to bring the video to an end. Lalia had really been taking her life as a self-styled social media celebrity seriously lately. She thought of herself as something of a trendsetter, although even Jane could see that her account was light on content. Much like its Lalia herself however, it was very heavy in several other crucial areas. Even Jane had to admit that the amount of followers she had attracted was impressive. Although, judging from the comments they left, it was really only one thing they were after.

Jane glanced up to the top of her phone screen as the timeline bar for Lalia’s Instagram story ended. She saw from the two further blocks that there were two more Stories on Lalia’s account, and the app scrolled to the second automatically. Jane’s eyes widened, she stopped chewing and her jaw dropped slightly, as the arms-length selfie video Lalia had shot began. The angle was way above her head, and Jane along with thousands of Lalia’s followers saw right down her ample cleavage.

“Tell me what you’re up to today everybody, you know I love hearing it!” the redhead continued on her Story, before glancing down, “Ooops! Almost escaped there!”

She looked back up to the camera, plunging her thumb into her cavernous cleavage, pinching the fabric of the low-cut top she was wearing between her fingers and pulling it up. Lalia’s lush chest bulged upwards and bounced wildly with a *BWOOMPH! BWOOMPH!* as she giggled and the video ended.

The next Story was a shot of Lalia’s bedroom wall, with a caption overlaid: ‘PLS don’t ban me Instagram!’ with several crying laughing emojis, ‘Subscribe to my YT, link in bio’ the caption concluded, before the app took Jane to the next account’s most recent story automatically.

Clicking her phone’s lock button and setting it down on the table, Jane sighed a little. She had warned Lalia about the kind of ‘fans’ she was attracting by showing off so much skin. Plus, there was more of her to show off lately. Her legendary appetite coupled with the pull of more and more virtual eyes admiring her stuffing abilities meant her eating habits had taken a copious turn. Lalia’s weight was close to getting out of hand; not that she saw it that way herself, of course.

As if on cue, Jane looked up instinctively when she heard Lalia stir on the second story of their shared house. There was nothing to see quite yet, but there was much to hear and feel as a door opened and heavy footfalls could be heard. The ceiling above Jane trembled a little and the house seemed to creak as Lalia began to descend the stairs, some part of her massively padded body or another giving off a *WUMMPH!* as she hit the second step of the staircase.

It hadn’t always been this way. In fact, until very recently, Lalia had been relatively slim. In between her vast food binges of course. The past few months however had seen binge blur into binge, until Jane couldn’t tell where Lalia’s food babies ended and her huge fat gut began.

Jane picked her phone up and quickly scrolled back down Lalia’s Instagram profile as if to remind herself of how her roommate used to look. She saw her friend shrinking before her very eyes, even in the tiny previews of the posts. As Jane’s thumb acted as a time machine, it was plainly obvious just how much weight Lalia had gained lately. Descending the page of photos, the redhead’s double chin was sucked back into her jawline. Her boobs shrank from “ludicrously enormous” to their former “extremely busty” territory. And most of all her gut all but disappeared, from the gigantic swollen paunch that currently stretched whatever Lalia attempted to cover it with, to hidden by an even slightly oversized t-shirt.

But for now the slow, deliberate thundering down the stair case came to an end with a final heavy slap of flesh onto flesh, and Jane closed Instagram once more.

“Morning Jane!” Lalia smiled cheerfully, rounding the corner from the hallway to the kitchen slowly, her enormous projection of a belly preluding her by a second or so.

“How ya doin’?” she beamed, hugging her flatmate from behind, and Jane felt her taller friends’ unbridled bust press into her skinny shoulder blades.

“Good morning Lalia,” Jane spun on her stool and smiled back, genuinely but less enthusiastically, “It seems like it’s more likely that I’ll see you ‘good morning’ Instagram Story these days than than you actually saying it to me in person,”

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Lalia backed off and smirked, gesturing a reconciliation before stepping forwards again to put her arm around Jane, “You’re right, I’m sorry,”

“It’s fine Lalia,” Jane smiled through pursed lips as her friend’s barely-contained curves pressed close to her once more.

“Anyway it’s paying off!” Lalia finally relinquished her slender roommate and said excitedly, “I just passed 100,000 Instagram followers, it’s really blowing up!”

“Just like your figure,” said Jane, glancing down as Lalia stopped her affectionate hugging and padded gradually around the table with a waddle that was becoming more and more pronounced, and the *BYOOM! BYOOM!* of her bouncing belly which was getting louder by the day.

“Heh, that’s part of the reason,” the redhead chuckled with a knowing glance, confessing, “Well… that’s the whole entire reason!”

It was Lalia’s boobs and belly which were really getting out of control lately. Not that her other curves were in any way slight, but her up front assets had taken on new and ludicrous dimensions. Recently, Lalia had decided to stop wearing a bra around the house. She hadn’t run it past Jane first, but it quickly became clear that there were precious few sizes that could even hope to contain boobs of Lalia’s magnitude.

Even when she did put on underwear to go out, her bras were so small that Jane had lost count how many boobs it looked like she had, the cups and straps pinching and bulging her chest at every angle.

Jane had insisted she help Lalia to scoure the internet one free evening to buy the largest sized bra they could find. The best they came up with was a monstrous Q cup double-parachute that could have slammed shut over Jane like a giant clam. Lalia’s chest filled it with ease however, and after a few meals had made their way into her belly, she even took up the slack on the gigantic 54 inch band that Jane had to safety pin to size every time Lalia wore the underwear.

Her greedy gut has become a bottom heavy globe, probably mistakable for a pregnant belly when Lalia was stationery. She only needed to flinch however for the thing to come to life, wobbling and squirming to try and free itself from whatever clothing was making a vain attempt at containing it.
Today it was the same low-cut yellow t-shirt that Jane had seen moments earlier in Lalia’s Instagram Story.

Lalia’s plush curves dragged the top this way and that, her heavy bust stretching out the fabric from a vibrant lemon to almost a vanilla color, and eating up material that bunched underneath her boobs. In turn, this exposed a thick stripe of pale flesh above the waistband of Lalia’s pants. Her belly hung weightily over the waistband itself, and her hips bulged out in huge twin muffintops either side of her bulky gut.

Jane raised an eyebrow as Lalia leaned one hand against the breakfast bar and stood grinning, wobbling and with her clothes straining. Taking a second to eye her friend’s flourishing curves with suspicion, Jane accepted that it would have been inaccurate to say that the extra weight had been unkind to Lalia.

The chickens were most definitely coming home to roost however, and the years of stuffing that Lalia had subjected her body to were catching up. After each stuffing session, the redhead was definitely becoming more… voluptuous. But when Jane subtly cast her eyes over Lalia’s body, from her terrifyingly vast breasts to the projecting paunch of her wobbling tummy, she couldn’t exactly say it looked bad on her. There was just a lot of it, she concluded.

Was Lalia unwilling to cover herself up? Jane wondered, surveying her roommate’s ill-fitting garments, or she was in denial about exactly how much she had gained?

“Lalia, you really need some new clothes,” Jane began, if not exactly tactfully then at least not nastily, “I can’t remember the last time you went up a size,”

“But Jane, all of my favorite clothes are in this size!” Lalia protested nonsensically, smacking her lips together and wobbling to the other side of the room. Jane screwed her face up and squinted at her flatmate with confusion,

“What?” she spluttered, “Lalia they make the same clothes in every size you know,” Jane’s mind worked overtime to overturn Lalia’s bizarre logic.

It was Lalia’s favorite strategy when it came to getting her own way. Often she would make a statement so irrational that it turned any argument on its head. Rather than debating the matter at hand, Jane had frequently found herself arguing over Lalia’s intentionally contrived reasoning. In her own way, Lalia had a fierce intellect, and probably could have beaten anyone on her high school debating team. If she even knew what that was. If there had been a high school eating team, she probably would have signed up in a split second.

“Hmm?” the redhead replied innocently. Seeing that Jane wasn’t being taken in by her gentle gaslighting today, Lalia continued, “Jane I just like these clothes, okay?”

“Sure Lalia, that’s okay,” Jane conceded, not wanting to sound like a nagging mother, “It’s just… the last time you bought any must have been… what? A hundred pounds ago?”

Jane looked over at the heavy round belly popping from the bottom of Lalia’s shirt, bobbling as she moved around the kitchen in search of breakfast. Her grey sweatpants bulged with the junk in the redhead’s trunk, Lalia’s butt cheeks fighting for the inadequate space within her joggers,

‘Look at the size of that ass,’ Jane couldn’t help but think to herself, ‘It’s like she’s trying to steal two turkeys from the grocery store… but they’re not quite dead yet,’

Lalia’s giant pair of overstuffed booty cheeks shuffled against the fabric of her pants, bouncing gradually to a halt a few seconds after their owner had stopped walking. She turned her pretty face toward her friend with a glint in her eye,

“If you really must know,” Lalia said pointedly, her gaze suddenly firmly fixed on Jane from across the kitchen, “I actually just ordered a whole bunch of new shirts last night,”

Lalia smiled smugly, sensing a victory in the pair’s argument. Jane was taken aback at first. That feeling was immediately overtaken by a feeling of suspicion,

“Is that so?” she said slowly, “What brought that on Lalia? I thought you liked your clothes in this size?”

“Yeah… well...” Lalia began, and Jane sensed a verbal game of chess – something else Lalia didn’t know the rules of – about to commence, “I ordered a different size,”

Jane nodded and stayed quiet. If zany logic was Lalia’s signature move, then silence was Jane’s. She new that Lalia couldn’t keep her mouth shut for long. If she just waited for the redhead to volunteer more information herself, she would simply keep on digging a deeper and deeper hole,

“To… to promote myself!” Lalia couldn’t help but blurt out after a silence that lasted a matter of seconds,

“Oh?” Jane flashed a wickedly knowing smile, “To wear on Instagram… to model?”

“Yuh-huh,” her friend nodded enthusiastically, her breasts heaving beneath her t-shirt at the movement,

“Seems like shirts aren’t exactly, you know… ‘modeling’ material,” Jane pursued,

“Well, they have my logo on them actually,” Lalia said, warily, “I think I’ll look good!”

Jane nodded her agreement slowly. She felt like Lalia’s superior at work, trying to cajole her into confessing something her employee had gotten wrong. It was time for Jane’s next attack,

“What size are you now Lalia?” she changed her line of questioning,

“C-come again?” Lalia asked, now appearing a little startled as she licked her lips nervously,

“Oh I’m sorry, that wasn’t what I meant at all,” Jane coolly qualified, “What I meant to say was, what size are you wearing right now, Lalia?”

“Uh… 12...”

“And what size are your new shirts?”

Lalia guiltily shifted her considerable weight on the spot from foot to foot. Jane could all but tell what the next answer would be. But first she knew that a sheepish Lalia would try one last time to seem dismissive about the situation,

“I can’t remember, I just clicked on whatever really,” she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, turning and opening a cupboard behind her as her abundant rear wobbled into Jane’s view once more.

‘Bingo,’ thought Jane, who wouldn’t be deterred,

“Lalia?” Jane said sternly, as if she was disciplining a pet,

“Okay fiiiiine, I ordered size 8,” Lalia threw her hands in the air and huffed with exaggerated exasperation, “God! What does it have to do with anything what size shirt I’ll be wearing? I mean...”

But Jane had stopped listening to Lalia’s ramble, she couldn’t really hear anything above the sound of the blood rushing around her head. Lalia’s antics had begun to have a very tangible physical effect upon Jane lately. She hadn’t minded the years of stuffing, of greed and gluttony and the wide streak of self-centered hedonism that the binging flame-haired maiden had in her. Perhaps her shortcomings and annoyances were made so much plainer by the fact that she was now swelling up, day by day, in front of Jane’s eyes. Either way, even the most patient person would have had enough by now,

“Eight?!?” Jane suddenly spluttered, cutting off her friend’s protestations, “I couldn’t fit into a size 8, Lalia!”

“Oh sweetie, you could totally get away with size 8, if you just...” Lalia tried to take off once more,

“No, that’s not my point!” Jane quickly interjected, “You couldn’t wear a s-…”

She stopped short of what she was considering howling out. Namely, that Lalia couldn’t even wear a size 18 at this point, never mind squeeze her fecund figure into size 8. Although looking at the gigantic breasts sprawled heavily on her rounded shelf of a belly and the hips simply gushing out of her pants, Jane reasoned that Lalia’s true clothing size was safely into the 20’s by now.

“Lalia, you are not a size 8!” she continued to rage after a seething pause.

Stopping short of what she wanted to say had taken considerable effort, so Jane spent that pent up energy springing from her chair and gesturing wildly at her friend’s thickened figure. Lalia shrank warily away from her visibly stressed out roommate, pressing her padded backside up against the kitchen counter,

“Sheesh Janey, relax,” Lalia widened her eyes, glancing downward past the vast swell of her tits and mumbling towards the floor tiles,

“Lalia, you...” Jane shrieked with frustration, before breathing deeply to calm herself, and continuing in a quiet voice, “It just that you’ll burst out of size 8 in a heartbeat. That’s all,”

Taking her hands off the counter behind her, Lalia gestured slowly in a placating motion, with her palms facing downwards. Her butt pushed outwards behind her as it became less squashed against the cupboard doors below waist height. It was the same slow, deliberate way somebody would have faced off against a dangerous animal,

“Relax Jane, that’s why I bought lots of them!” Lalia cooed reassuringly, “Besides, I don’t exactly plan on going to the store… in… them...”

Jane looked up as Lalia trailed off, lost in thought,

“What?” she prompted, snapping the redhead back into the moment,

“Nothing… nothing, that’s… just kinda… a good idea for a video, that’s all…” Lalia smirked, raising her eyebrows at a clearly unimpressed Jane, “So ignore what I just said I guess...”

Twisting her hands into claws to make a throttling motion in the air, Jane growled softly with frustration. This was the infuriating thing about living with Lalia. Far more than the stuffing, and the lack of housekeeping and the… well, the gas. It was simply her conviction that every idea she had was the world’s greatest. It wasn’t until something blew up in her face – some times more literally than others – that she could finally be deterred. Jane knew that moment wouldn’t come until much further down the line.

The worst part for Jane? She just knew that Lalia’s provocative social media presence was a bad thing. But she hadn’t quite worked out what could possibly go wrong. There had to be something. After all, it was one of Lalia’s schemes. But Jane couldn’t put her finger on exactly what that was yet. In the meantime, all she could do was huff an angry, exasperated,

“Lalia!”

“God Janey, I already said like 5 times relax,” came the flippant reply, as Lalia turned around, her enormous rear hefting into view and her rotund stomach pressing against the counter as she opened a cupboard door at head-height,

“Now what’s for breakfast? I’m starving!”

As soon as Lalia’s mind moved on to the subject of food, the conversation was definitively over.