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I smirked. She was trying to give her belly more room and find relief from the pain, but she wouldn’t find it until all that food turned into the wobbling fat I wanted her to have. “You know, I wish I had put the scale under your fat ass before you sat down. I could have watched you sit here and turn all that food into calories that is going to stretch you into a wider load.”

Marybeth blushed, rubbed her belly and farted several times. “S-sorry,” she whimpered.

“Ah, don’t be. I expect that my piggy is going to be a little gassy. I just crammed enough food for a family of seven into that big, wobbly, jelly belly of yours.”

Marybeth blushed all the harder, farted several more times and then looked at me. “C-could we go find me some clothes?” she asked.

“Sure, but I guess that means we have to get you dressed in something before we go out.” I replied and held out my hands. “Come on, get up.”

Marybeth had to struggle, her belly swollen and hard as a rock. It bulged out from her , making her look almost eight months pregnant with triples. I was excited to see how it would look when it wasn’t full of food. I keep filling her with food, we had yet to see what it looked empty and just fat.

“I think we can find something to shove this into,” I said. “But I get to pick. Got it?”

“Y-yes.” She replied, picking up another bottle of soda as we started down the stairs. She was waddling and I heard the soda crack open. I smiled as she began to gulp it down. Little glutton. She’d blow herself up like a balloon at this rate. *

I made her sit on the bed while I went looking. “Don’t burn too many precious calories,” I told her. “And if your hungry, eat some more of the candy from last night,” I said gesturing to the five pound bag of gummy worms we had. I was surprised to hear the bag rustle as I started to look. I pulled out a tight tank top of hers, and then I had to go find a pair of pants. I dug out a pair of her stretchy, legging, sort of pants. I figure they’d work. But I decided to add my own touches. I grabbed a sharpie and wrote on the butt of the pants. ‘WIDE LOAD’ and on the shirt I wrote on the front ‘PIGGY’ and on the back ‘FEED ME!’ “Get dressed.” I said.

“W-What?” she said with a full mouth. “I can’t wear this.”

“Why?” I asked. “It’s true.”

“N-no it’s not,” she tried to protest.

“Really?” I replied raising an eye brow. “That’s why your shirt is basically a tube top and your shorts are about ready to rip at the seams? And you can’t stop eating.”

“I-I can,” she lied as she shoved a handful of gummyworms into her mouth, finishing off the bag.

“Get dressed, fatty,” I said. “Then we’ll get going. I’ll even pay for three of your burgers,” I said. “Any more then that and you’re buying.”