Belly Burger (9 Parts)

Note: This is a story-prompt for Phat94.

Prompt Directory

1.

“Eugh, I’m sooo hungry,” Iowa groaned aloud as she approached the only food establishment for miles. The sign read: Belly Burger.

A glance through the window made Iowa think that the restaurant was closed. The place was empty. But Iowa’s face lit up as she spotted a worker standing behind the counter as he stared off in boredom.

Iowa walked inside and looked at the menu. The establishment seemed to exclusively sell their signature beef sandwiches. Iowa absently twisted a lock of blonde hair around her finger. “Um, can I have a…belly burger? With an order of small fries, and a coke?”

In only seconds, a tray of food was being slapped down on the counter. Iowa lifted it and sat down at one of the tables. The burger was enormous and greasy, dripping streams of goey cheese. It didn’t look the healthiest, but Iowa was hungry enough to try it. She took a bite, and her eyes lit up.

It was delicious. In only moments, Iowa demolished the sandwich. Her stomach was tight, and gurgled, causing her to release a large belch. Her face reddening, Iowa covered her mouth. She didn’t know what it was about the burger, but Iowa found herself craving more. Her fries and soda left forgotten, Iowa quickly returned to the register. “Can I have t-two—no, three more?”

Iowa was stuffed by the time she got home, her usually slim abdomen now visibly bloated. Iowa barely made it to her bed before she collapsed, unconscious, a satiated smile on her face as she slept off her eating binge.

-

The next day, Iowa still could not stop thinking about those burgers. Iowa did an internet search, and was appalled to see that Belly Burger only had two stars and a variety of negative reviews. Dismissively, she clicked on the website, and was relieved to see that the restaurant delivered—but at a $10 fee. She supposed it would be worth it if she bought in bulk and saved some burgers for later. Iowa picked up the phone. “Hi, I’d like to make an order for delivery? Can I have ten belly burgers, extra cheese, and bacon…”

Iowa waited impatiently for the burgers to arrive. When they did, she quickly took the oil-dropping bags, stuffing some cash into the delivery boy’s hands. She then hurried off to the kitchen. Within an hour, she demolished all ten.

-

As the weeks went by, Iowa continued to order food exclusively from Belly Burger. Her stomach grew fuller and softer the more she binged. Iowa knew the burgers were making her fat, and yet she couldn’t stop eating them. It was like an addiction.

And it actually felt somewhat nice to have a little extra weight on her normally thin physique. Her belly was large and round now—her belly button even sticking out by then. She was beginning to look like she had a volleyball stuffed in her shirt. Her mound was soft, plump, and jiggly, beginning to protrude from beneath her T-shirts. It felt good to rub her hands against her swollen belly, especially after her burger-binges, when she was at her plumpest. It was soft and jiggly, bobbing as she walked around, and it really turned Iowa on—particularly when she glided her fingers over her navel, the mere sensation making her whole face go red. Iowa’s legs would tremble, and she could hardly make it to the toilet, before she found herself quaking with orgasm, seeping fluids, and massaging her belly even more.

2.

Iowa met some friends on the boardwalk for lunch. It was a hot summer day and most of the group was dressed skimpily. Iowa had a string bikini on under her crop top and booty-shorts. She barely noticed as her friends gawked at her bulging belly. It was round and bloated, resembling a pregnancy, yet it was soft, and bobbed as she walked around, her belly button still bulging outward, and pink, and starting to look rather unusual.

“Belly Burger isn’t far from here,” Iowa mentioned as she distractedly looked around, mentally mapping out the route.

“I was kinda feeling like Italian…” Katy whined.

There were murmurs of agreement.

“I think Belly Burger has a spaghetti side,” Iowa mentioned, though she may have been lying. “C’mon, you’ll love it.” Before she could be vetoed, Iowa grabbed Katy’s hand and marched off. Their remaining friends trailed after them, murmuring in confusion.

“Gained a little weight there?” Fred grinned, appearing at Iowa’s opposite side.

Iowa blinked. “Oh, right.” A bubbly grin crossed her face. “I swear, it’s those burgers.”

“Belly Burger?” said Fred.

“Indeed,” said Katy, also eying Iowa’s belly.

“This I’ve got to see,” said Tammy.

The group giggled.

Iowa joined in their laughter. She could hardly care, enjoying the sensation of her belly and is protruded completely free from her clothes and gently wobbled. It was beginning to resemble a basketball in size, though she hardly minded it for some reason. The sensations within her mound often shifted from an overpowering warmth to cool tingles.

“Finally,” Iowa sighed in relief as they turned a corner to Burger Burger. Her jaw dropped at the PERMANENT CLOSED sign nailed into the door. Dropping Katy’s hand, Iowa could not help trailing over to the building. The door was nailed shut, windows boarded, and there was no indication as to why the restaurant had so abruptly closed.

As Iowa dropped her head, Tammy patted her back, unintentionally sending vibration’s through Iowa’s belly and causing the blonde to gasp.

“I guess Italian it is,” said Tammy.

“Sure…that’s fine.” Iowa forced a grin.

With that, the group marched off to a popular pizza place back on the boardwalk.

-

The group signed up for the pizza-buffet. All-you-can-eat in the span of two hours. The restaurant was congested with people and the pizzas looked indulgently delicious. Each pie seemed to be piled with various combinations of toppings, which included sausage, pepperoni, chicken, ricotta, mushroom, spinach, pineapple, steak, sausage, hamburger meat, bacon, olives, and a massive variety of cheese.

The group grabbed a table, and the waiter promptly arrived with three extra-large meatlovers pizzas, all of them piled with greasy meats and mountains of gooey cheese. As Tammy and Katy picked at their plates and mumbled about being on diets, Iowa and Fred ate enthusiastically. It quickly became a bit of a competition between the two. Iowa and Fred ate their way through two pizzas, and most of the third.

Afterwards, Fred seemed breathless and flushed. “Throwing in the towel?” he said to Iowa.

“I’m actually not even full,” Iowa admitted in mild surprise.

Taking this as a challenge, Fred lifted his arm. “Waiter! Three more pies!” he called, grinning.

As Tammy and Katy looked at him in disgust, Iowa shrugged. She could definitely eat more.

It wasn’t the same though. For some time, she had been exclusively living off of Belly Burgers. She looked down at herself in uncertainty where her belly was perched innocently in her lap. Why did she still feel hungry?

3.

Over the next few days, Iowa continued to stuff her face with various foods, though nothing could seem to provide her with the sensation of fullness that belly burgers gave her, no matter how much she ate. It left Iowa with a feeling of emptiness, and so she ate more and more, to no effect.

Iowa had taken to sleeping in the nude lately, her sheets thrown off of her plump body. Getting dressed one day, she pulled a shirt over her abdomen, and shuddered. The sensation of the material dragging over her protruding pink navel made her legs quaver and her face flush. Breathing, Iowa headed over to her bureau to grab some shorts, but the continued rubbing on her navel was just too uncomfortable. Iowa quickly tore off the shirt, and gently cupped the sides of her mound. She walked to her closet and tore a belly-shirt off a hanger.

Over the next few days, Iowa continued to wear crop tops, or occasionally bandeaus and bikini tops, unable to tolerate the sensation of clothes on her unusual belly. Sometimes people stared at her when she walked about town, with her round belly gently bobbing, though Iowa hardly noticed. Her belly remained roughly the size of a basketball. She continued to frequent various restaurants and burger shops in her continued search for something filling.

On her way home from one such outing, Iowa noticed a large package on her front porch. She lifted it with some awkwardness, before entering her house. When she opened it, her face lit up in shock. The box was cram-packed with belly burgers, each individually wrapped in plastic. There was a type-written note atop them, that read:

To our best customer.

Thank you for your support these past few months.

-Belly Burger

Iowa hardly finished the note. She was salivating. She quickly ripped the plastic wrapping off the first burger, and began to tear through it ravenously. She didn’t even bother to warm them—they weren’t cold, but lukewarm. Iowa stuffed down one burger after the next, chewing minimalistically, and nearly choking on a few occasions. But she didn’t care. She could feel herself filling up the more she ate, and she was addicted to the sensation of it.

Finally, Iowa was stuffed and moaning, as she lay back on the floor, contently rubbing her bloated mound. The carpet around her was littered with plastic wrappers and the occasional leaf of lettuce, though little else had escaped her mouth.

A sated smile spreading over her face, Iowa heaved herself upright with some difficulty, her belly dropping into her lap. As she climbed to her feet, she grimaced slightly, noting how bloated and warm her belly now felt. She cupped the underside of it, and headed to her bedroom to take a nap.

But over the next few days, Iowa noticed that the bloated feeling in her belly had not gone away. In fact, is increased, and it was an…interesting sensation of tightness. The warmth within her had intensified, and the insides of her abdomen felt strangely…sloshy somehow.

4.

“Nice costume…” said a girl cagily. She was dressed as a bride, and presently goggling Iowa’s belly as it bulged out in her belly dancer costume.

“Thanks,” said Iowa blithely. She filled up her cup at the punch bowl as the girl eyed her again, then walked off.

Iowa was at a fancy dress party. She gazed around at all the themed suits and gowns. As a pleasing melody began to thrum through the room, she beamed, lowered her cup, and made her way to the dance floor.

Iowa danced enthusiastically, ignoring all others, even as her round belly bounced against bodies in the crowded room.

“What are you supposed to be?” someone called.

Iowa looked up at a masked man. She could tell it was Fred, if just by the boy’s wolfish grin.

“Belly dancer,” she yelled over the music, spreading her arms to put her full harem-style costume on display. She rocked her hips seductively as Fred laughed and swayed with her.

She continued to dance with abandon, falling into a belly dance, her hips jutting left to right as her swollen belly freely bobbed and jiggled, disharmonious with the rest of her body.

She began to draw attention. Iowa had always been a great dancer. People cleared the way, forming a circle around her as they followed her movements, rapt looks glued to her midsection.

Her bare abdomen jiggled furiously, swinging in every which direction. Soon it was tingling, her belly button throbbing. Iowa reddened as she was assaulted with a sensation of tightness.

She cupped her belly with one hand as she continued to dance, and she could swear she could feel it swelling. She lowered her gaze down to it, and it certainly looked as though it was growing, inching forward from its impressive basketball-size. Iowa returned her attention to the crowd to see that most of her spectators were gawking by now, several of their jaws hanging slack.

When the song ended, Iowa slowed her movements, breathing heavily and arching her back by impulse.

Suddenly a pair of hands were upon her, rubbing up and down her mound. Her skin tingled and burned as a new song started up. Iowa pressed herself harder against Fred.

The crowd tentatively resumed dancing, as Fred and Iowa kissed, swayed, and laughed against the contact.

Her belly felt so full and hot. She whimpered as Fred massaged her sensitive navel.

“Let’s go,” Fred whispered, taking her hand.

Iowa allowed herself to be pulled out of a room, and through a nondescript door in a corner. The two entered what appeared to be a large pantry, the music silenced as they shut the door behind them.

Iowa and Fred closed their distance and resumed their make-out session as Fred groped at Iowa’s belly and Iowa groped at a shelf of boxed cakes behind him.

Soon the two found themselves sprawled on the floor against a wall, Fred’s legs spread so that Iowa could sit between them and lean on his chest. He happily fed her chunks of pound cake with his bare hands. In between Fred’s offerings, she moaned in pleasure and stuffed chips into her mouth.

5.

Iowa could not decide if she preferred Fred’s hand massaging her belly or feeding her decadent snacks. He alternated between the two, but it almost wasn’t enough. During Iowa’s brief reprieves from his feedings, she made sure to stuff her mouth on her own.

The sensation of his calloused hands massaging her belly left pulses of pleasure tingling through her uncomfortably bloated midsection. Iowa squirmed somewhat in her spot between Fred’s legs, feeling tight and burdened somehow. Fred was happily reaching for another cake, but she took his hands, and returned them to her gut. She released a long sigh as his fingers stroked her belly up and down, then began to lightly circle the darkened skin around her navel.

Iowa blindly grasped around on the shelf before her hand closed on a large bag of pretzels. She continued to eat with purpose, stuffing handfuls into her mouth. She momentarily squeezed her eyes shut when her protruding belly button began to burn. It was strange and uncomfortable, and yet it felt right somehow. “Yess…oh Fred,” she groaned, arching her back, and pushing her belly button harder into his palm.

Fred flicked the nub, and she released a sharp wail, nearly choking on the chunks of pretzel still in her mouth.

The burning intensified, Iowa's belly quavering as she shuddered beneath the cumulating pleasure, discomfort, and…anticipation? Her abdomen was full of that intensifying heat, and it was peaking beneath her navel in such a strange and satisfying way. “Mgghhhhh…” she groaned, and she could swear her belly was visibly swelling. She squirmed some more, not knowing whether she wanted to get up or sit still, just that something was happening. Fred’s fingers lightly glided over her navel, and she swore under her breath. “F-Fred…” she stammered, her loins tingling with warmth, and she knew that she was sopping wet by then. She squeezed his thigh as she gasped out, “I think I’m going to—”

Another flick of her navel threw her over the edge. Her back arched and her belly quavered as waves of hot pleasure shot from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes, and then back again. But it grew and grew, Iowa’s eyes shooting open as the pain returned and intensified in her flushed belly button. “Ohhhhh…” Something seemed to push out of her. Her hand flew to the underside of her gut as something warm splashed free, then rolled lazily down the underside of her mound to eventually wet her hand.

“Shit,” Fred hissed in amazement.

Iowa’s eyes shot down.

A thick white fluid was leaking out of the dimple in her bulging navel. It was viscous, her belly button throbbing consistently as more and more of it was forcefully pushed through. It almost looked like very thick…milk. And in consequence, her belly suddenly no longer looked like a belly at all, but instead a large and bloated…well, a breast.

Iowa’s breath caught in her throat as she continued to stare at herself. Fred was excitedly muttering something in her ear, but she couldn’t hear any of it. She could only gawk in horror at the white fluid pooling between her legs as she recognized it for what it was.

It was the Belly Burger secret sauce.

6.

For the next few days, Iowa hid out at home, completely aghast by her development, and confused as to why it was continuing to grow. She had never heard of the affliction, much as she searched online, but she had somehow developed a giant breast on her torso, bulging out as though to replace her stomach with a much rounder, fatter, mound.

At first Iowa tried to ignore it—surely she was simply delusional—but every time her shirt so much as brushed against her protruding pink navel, waves of pleasure heated her insides.

On her third day home, Iowa could not help giving in. Much as she resented herself for it, she lightly stroked her pulsing navel, her face flushing, and her hips twitching instinctively. This caused her fat belly-breast to jiggle, and just made her arousal all the more intense. The strokes grew faster and harder, until her fingers were gliding up and down the hard pink nub, to eventually tug and squeeze it between them. She gasped for breath and arched her back, her eyes rolling up.

“Nngghhh…” Iowa grunted as her navel burned and the white sauce began to spurt out of the large, pink nub. Gasping for breath, she watched as the thick fluid sprayed freely from her body, before raining back down on her.

Iowa felt herself beginning to salivate, and she could not help reaching down and coating her fingers in the secret sauce that she remembered so well from Belly Burger’s mouthwatering sandwiches. She stared at it with rapt attention, lips quavering, before she lost her fight for self-control, and brought it to her lips.

It was delicious as ever, if not moreso—fresh and warm as it hit her taste buds. Iowa heaved herself up with some difficulty, panting once she was upright in bed. Her heaving belly was perched in her lap, larger than a basketball, and hot, full, and still seeping where it protruded beneath the stretched hem of her shirt.

With a grunt, she rose to her feet. Cradling the underside of her round mound, she awkwardly made her way to the kitchen, her breast-belly bobbing gently against her.

Iowa pulled out rolls, pastries, bread slices, bagels, tortilla chips, and various fruit, until she had a sizable pile. She allowed her belly-milk to seep directly onto the foods. At times, she impatiently scooped the creamy fluid off the underside of her gut and slathered it onto the items. Iowa then gobbled the food down, piece by piece, even as her navel ached and burned, and her belly continued to tighten. She cupped her sides and squeezed at them gently, releasing a grunt of discomfort as the sauce spurted into a large bowl of cake batter she had hastily put together. Iowa gasped for breath until the batter was soaked, at which point she plopped back down, her belly-nipple seeping warmth onto her groin. In the meantime she impatiently mixed the batter then gulped down every spoon of it, in a matter of minutes.

Iowa groaned. Her belly shuddered. She felt so tight. She began to stand, but grunted out in discomfort, her mound flushed and sleek with sweat. Sinking down, Iowa leaned back, her eyelids beginning to droop. Absently, she licked a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth. “So…good…” she mumbled, before she dozed off in a veritable food coma, peacefully oblivious of the hulking figure lurking in the shadows of her china cabinet.

7.

Iowa came into consciousness slowly, her eyes stinging as she groggily opened them. Her shoulders ached, and everything was bright, much brighter than her apartment. Blinking a few times, Iowa allowed her eyes to adjust. They darted about in confusion as she came to realize that she was in what appeared to be a clean, white lab. She was seated upright against the wall on what appeared to be an examining table. Her arms were chained above her, impeding her from getting up.

Iowa’s feelings of confusion worsened when, from a door opposite her, several people emerged into the room. They were wearing long white lab coats, so maybe they were doctors—or scientists. Each was wearing a medical mask, gloves, and other protective gear.

The half-dozen of them crowded around her. Iowa released a surprised hiss as one scientist drew her shirt up, the material dragging on her belly-nipple. Then her round belly-breast was exposed, where it sat perched in her lap.

The scientists marveled at Iowa’s form.

“Look at the size of it,” one said.

“And the shape. You can tell that it’s completely full.”

“She’s our best producer yet!”

Iowa released a sharp yelp as one of the scientists gave her belly a harsh spank. She moaned as it jiggled for several seconds following the assault, a bright pink mark left on the side as evidence.

“This thing is just packed with priceless sauce!” said the abuser.

There were excited murmurs. Iowa felt too dazed to figure out what was going on.

She gave a small whine as gloved fingers began to massage her swollen mass. Her belly-nipple was squeezed and massaged, and just as she groaned in protest, something was shoved into her mouth.

It was salty and tangy. It took Iowa only a moment to realize that it was a soft lump of cheese that nearly filled her whole mouth. She feebly struggled, and tried to push it out, but the hand that was feeding her held the cheese firmly there. In fact, the hand was already beginning to shove more food to follow it, and Iowa had no choice but to swallow so not to choke.

She shuddered as her belly continued to be massaged and kneaded by multiple pairs of hands. In the meantime, she struggled to keep up with the feeding. She was stuffed with riceballs, chunks of compressed pastas, slimy mounds of lard, and yet more lumps of cheese. She felt uncomfortably tight and heated, her mound sleek with sweat. Her breast-belly was bloated and flushed, skin tingling, and belly-nipple beginning to burn. Finally, and feeding stopped, and Iowa sighed, grateful for the reprieve. Just as she began to whimper, and fidget, and try to adjust to the discomfort in her swollen, throbbing mass, a nozzle was shoved into her mouth. Eyes wide, Iowa stared up the length of a hose. The hose led only a few feet away, where two of the scientists were struggling to lift a bucket up to a large funnel.

They began to pour a thick gelatinous substance into the funnel, and it was only seconds before it assaulted Iowa’s mouth. She tried to resist, but the back of her head was against the wall, and the scientist feeding her held the hose firmly in her mouth, and pushed it deep, almost to her throat. She nearly choked.

The substance was as thick as pudding, but sweeter, starchier, and sort of buttery. There was an oiliness to it that seemed consistent with animal fat. Iowa was helpless but to gulp as more and more was pumped inside of her. Her belly-breast grew hotter and tighter, until finally, her hard belly-nipple began to seep thick sauce that slowly trailed along underside of her abdomen.

8.

Iowa sat slumped over her large belly, feeling a combination of heavy, uncomfortable, exhausted, and inexplicably, aroused.

By then her belly was a hot, throbbing mound in her lap, and the scientists were happily stuffing her face with pastries, each gooier than the last. They were covered with decadent icings, or bulging with custards and creams. They disappeared one by one as they were impatiently crammed into her mouth. One of the scientists was consistently taking samples of the milk, or rather, the—the sauce, as it seeped from her belly-nipple. In consequence, the desserts would switch up in some way, becoming sweeter, or creamier, of more bland, depending. From what Iowa could gather, they were experimenting on her, trying to get her to produce the best quality sauce that she could.

“Please…oh…” Iowa groaned as she shuddered. Her weary eyes lifted just long enough for her to look at the pulsing mound of her gut. She was getting huge. It was hot and heaving, like rising dough. She couldn’t even believe she could get so massive. “Stop,” she entreated between the mouthfuls of food. Yet the feeding continued.

It wasn’t until evening began to fall that the scientists suspended their assault. Immersed in low, delighted discussion, they trailed out of the room one at a time. A final scientist set Iowa up with an IV line, before he also exited the exam room.

Iowa dozed in and out of consciousness. She noticed that the soreness of her shoulders had improved considerably—apparently she had been unchained from the wall, and even had the option to lie down—but she was too exhausted to move. From time to time she shifted, but quickly found herself slumping back again, feeling too heavy and full, her belly tense and hot in her lap.

It was dark now. The mound was fully engorged. At some point the nipple had stopped seeping, which, at first, Iowa had seen as a benefit, but now the tightness was making her squirm in unease. She pawed at her mound, but was reluctant to stimulate it, as much as she seemed to crave for just that.

Her mound filled her lap and bulged out at her sides, having grown wider than she was, but Iowa was sure that she could still get up. If she tried—if she focused—maybe she could—

The door creaked open. Iowa tensed at first, but then tried to relax, and pretend that she was still asleep.

She opened her eyes just slightly enough to see that one of the scientists had slipped back into the room and was carefully approaching. Iowa shuddered slightly as the scientist gently stroked the side of her hot mound.

“Oh yes…” the scientist hissed. It was a woman. Iowa tried to recall her identity. She thought her nametag had read Pam.

Again, Iowa lifted her eyes, to see that Pam’s were rapt and focused on her belly. She had not even noticed that Iowa was awake.

Pam dropped to her knees, as though to worship her. Cool hands cradled either side of Iowa’s mound. Iowa gasped as Pam closed her warm mouth around her belly-nipple.

The first suck felt like an electric shock coursing through Iowa’s body, shooting into her belly-nipple, leaving her to choke, too stunned to react. Pam took another long draw, and Iowa feebly tried to squirm away, but Pam’s grip on her sides was rough as her fingers kneeded into her bobbing gut, her sucks shooting tingles of pleasure straight down to Iowa’s loins.

Despite herself, a moan escaped Iowa, thighs twitching as she was assaulted with pressure, and pleasure, and more stimulation than she could handle. Her body was overwhelmed with a formidable hunger. She thrust her head back and released another groan as her belly, in tandem, gave a monstrous grumble.

9.

It was a week following Iowa’s initial kidnapping.

That morning, she occupied herself with her newest hobby—that being staring at the wall.

The scientists had placed her in quarters that were slightly more comfortable than the exam room she had initially found herself in. The bed was soft and low, the space extremely clean, in fact, sterile. The floor was a cool marble, the walls bright and white. There were no windows or furniture, but Iowa did appreciate the absence of medical equipment surrounding her, almost ominously, as it had in the lab room. There was also a bathroom, interestingly enough, including a toilet, a shower, a sink, and even a mirror, which she could gaze into when she was especially bored and watch herself…change.

Iowa continued to gaze at the wall, a blank smile across her face. She twirled a strange of blonde hair about her finger. It was so clean, the wall. Not a spot on it.

Iowa’s shoulders were softer, thighs thicker, her whole body plumper and flabbier than it had ever been before. Standing had gotten to be a struggle for Iowa, and her sole escape attempt had failed. She had tried to crawl through a ventilation shaft that had since been sealed over. The shaft had been large enough to accommodate her body, but her belly had proven too big. It was round and fat; wider than she was. The sensation of her sensitive belly-nipple sliding against the cool metal had left her shuddering and wet, even breathless. The effort of continuing to slide her swollen nipple against the floor of the shaft would have posed a significant problem had Iowa not quickly found herself stuck in place, no matter how she tried to maneuver the mound. Only minutes later, the scientists had collected her, and stuffed her with snacks, as if to ensure she outgrew any future escape attempts.

Iowa snapped out of her reverie when the door to her room began to open. It was locked from the outside, so the appearance of visitors generally excited her. The sight of Pam brought a grin to Iowa’s face. Pam was wearing a blouse, dress pants, heels, and a pair of rectangular spectacles that Iowa found to be sort of cute. Pam lab coat hung about her shoulders. She was here on official business, then.

“I brought you a treat,” said Pam, pulling a cart loaded with food into the room after her.

Iowa planted her hands against her mattress and attempted to stand, but Pam quickly held up her arm.

“Don’t get up. I’ll come to you.” Pam rolled the cart over to the side of the bed.

It was loaded with all Iowa’s favorites. There was a small mountain of goey brownies, another of chocolate chip cookies, an entire strawberry cheesecake that had to be at least six inches tall and three times the width, a tray of nachos drowning in cheese sauce, a cake bowl of goey macaroni and cheese, and of course, several fat chunks of mozzarella.

Her stomach gurgling, Iowa dug in.

Her belly was a huge mound perched into her lap, the nipple bulging out evidently through the thin tanktop she had stretched over the mass. Her belly bumped against the cart, but Iowa was too eager to notice. The mound raised so high as to shelve and push the breasts on her chest, her belly wide and fat and overflowing her lap to the point that she spread her thighs to keep it from rolling around too much and unbalancing her. The mound seemed to heave and sigh as though reacting to the environment. It was hot, heated, and full of precious sauce.

Iowa worked first on the macaroni, shoveling large spoons into her mouth. Though between the spoons, she managed to alternate with bites into the thick mozzarella, which only enriched the flavor of the pasta for her.

The macaroni took some time and effort, and by the time she was finished, she was uncomfortably full and warm. Despite it, the sight of food roused some insatiable need within Iowa. And so as her insides protested, her binge went on.

Iowa demolished the nachos hastily, even tipping the tray to gulp down every inch of the cheese sauce. While she dug into the gooey chocolatey brownies with one hand, she found her free hand idly fondling her belly-nipple, until it had created a wet spot in the fabric of her shirt. She drew the hem up over it, hissing as the moist pink nub was exposed to the cool, filtered air. Pam licked her lips as Iowa’s ministrations went on, Iowa’s fingers compulsively tugging, tweaking, and massaging the nub till it ached with pleasure and was seeping secret sauce down the underside of her swollen mound.

By the time Iowa finished the brownies, in addition to the cookies, she was feeling incredibly tight, her stomach gurgling even louder, as though in protest. Regardless, her shaking right hand lifted her fork and swung it down to heave a generous scoop of the cheesecake to her lips. “Mmmgghhhh…” she groaned after she gulped it down.

Pam violently shoved the cart aside, a strange gleam in her eyes. Iowa gasped as Pam dropped to her knees, her cool hands cradling either side of Iowa’s swollen belly.

“Ohhhh…” Iowa moaned as Pam gingerly lifted her shirt so that the entirety of her belly-breast was on display. Hot and pulsing, the belly-nipple released a small spurt, splashing against Pam’s face, as though baiting her.

“Mmmgghh…” Iowa groaned, fidgeting. Even then, one of her hands stretched out to grab up a slice of the cheesecake. She crushed it slightly in her tense hold. Iowa’s other hand went around to Pam’s nape, and pulled the scientist forward, squishing her against her giant breast.

Nursing Pam was a luxurious sensation, Pam’s mouth wide and planted against her sensitively areola, creating an interesting suction against the tender skin. Her tongue flicked, teased, and circled the nipple, then dipped against the deep pore that centered it almost to explore. Iowa shuddered. Finally Pam pursed her lips and took a forceful suck. Iowa nearly choked on the mound of cheesecake in her mouth.

Pam drank greedily, grotesque sucking noises filtering through the room as she fed with the eagerness of a newborn farm animal. She drank and drank, absolutely stuffing herself. She consumed more of the white sauce than Iowa even thought was possible to do in one session.

By then the cheesecake was finished, though admittedly, a good deal of it had fallen down Iowa’s chest, some sprinkled atop her swollen stomach. Planting her hands on the bed behind her, Iowa arched and sighed, enjoying Pam’s continued attention. She pushed her gut harder against Pam’s mouth.

Finally Pam’s teeth became involved. She bit gently, and took several quick, sharp sucks in a sequence that pushed Iowa over the edge.

Iowa’s hips jolted and her toes curled as shocks of electricity surged from her navel to her groin, then up again. As her panties soaked through, and white sauce splashed forcefully against Pam’s throat. A large belch tore out of Iowa. She cupped her mouth and smiled while gasping.

Pam stood without ceremony, wiping her mouth. Iowa was astonished that she didn’t even look bloated by then.

“That—that was—” Iowa panted out.

Ignoring her, Pam brushed her lab coat off. “Well, everything seems to be in order here,” she said with a curt nod. She pushed up her spectacles, a twisted curl to her mouth. “Your compliance is appreciated.” With that, she left.

-

That afternoon, Pam held a meeting with some investors. As the lead scientist on the assignment, it was her responsibility to keep their funders up to date on the progress of sauce development. She even brought out free samples in the form of several plates piled with belly burgers. They had only been back on the market for a week, and they were beating out all the other chains.

“As you can see, things are going well,” Pam said from where she sat at the head of the large rectangular meeting table. She guided her clients though the packets of sheets she had passed out. “If you look at the diagram on page seven, you’ll notice…”

Even though the burgers were mostly just for show, Pam could not help picking at them throughout the meeting. She must have gone through three already. She had just gotten so accustomed to the taste of the sauce, she found herself continuously eating the burgers any time she had access to them. It was a deep, visceral craving that somehow could not be sated, and she didn’t mind. She was just content to eat them.

Pam sucked on her greasy finger, before plucking it out of her mouth with a soft popping noise. “Sales are up, spending is down, I would even propose a new downtown location while we still have momentum.” Pam took a large bite from another burger, fitting a third of the sandwich into her mouth. She chewed hastily and gulped down the tender meat, before continuing (choking slightly). “And just to motivate your trust, I would like to introduce you to our current sauce supplier.” Pam quickly finished the burger off, as politely as she could, being that she was gorging herself. She then got up and hurried to the double doors to dramatically swing them open.

The investors gasped at the sight of Iowa, who stood there, looking somewhat unbalanced, even though she was flanked by two skinny lab technicians.

The lab techs guided Iowa inside. She waddled awkwardly as they held her arms to keep her balanced. She then stood there before the table, the gathered investors blatantly staring at her.

“She’s abundant,” Pam bragged, enjoying the sight of Iowa’s flushed cheeks and thin breaths. “She’s absolutely packed with the sauce.”

Iowa gave a sheepish smile as she blinked around in evident confusion. The larger she swelled, the ditzyer she seemed to become. It was convenient, if nothing else.

Pam walked over and gave Iowa’s belly-breast a firm swat, causing Iowa to yelp as her mound jiggled until it pushed out from the bottom of the stretched top she was dressed in. Iowa teetered, and looked like she might topple over. The lab techs hastily dragged Iowa to the head of the table, shoving Pam’s chair aside to unceremoniously plop Iowa’s belly against the table top. Iowa sighed in relief at the support. The mound gurgled and quivered. Iowa released a small belch. The investors were positively gawking by then.

During the diversion, Pam had discreetly stuffed down two more burgers. Even then, her cheeks were puffed out as she furiously munched on a third. Eating during a meeting, and so sloppily, was almost obscenely unprofessional—but for some reason, Pam couldn’t stop herself. She desperately had to have every burger inside of her. She simply needed them.

As Iowa continued to blink (and belch) inanely, the investors’ attention finally shifted back to Pam who, by then, had some grease-stains on her blouse.

“Belly burger is swiftly becoming the biggest burger franchise in the area,” Pam quickly piped in, her voice muffled. She gulped down the latest chunk of meat in her cheek, “And soon, the country, if everything goes according to plan. It’s a practical guarantee. All I ask of you…” But she trailed off and took another huge bite, grunting enthusiastically while fitting almost half the sandwich into her mouth.

Giving her an odd look, one of the investors raised his finger in inquiry. “How will you produce enough secret sauce to keep up with the demand?” He shot a look at Iowa. “I hardly think that one person—”

He was cut off by Pam’s groan.

Pam’s stomach felt funny. Gassy and bloated, a bubbling sensation growing more powerful by the moment. She grunted out and clutched it, the remains of her latest burger dropping to the floor. The tension grew as her blouse tightened, until she could feel the actual curve of her stomach where it should have been flat. It advanced slowly, pushing, swelling, growing out in throbs of heat and pressure. She moaned in protest and clutched it harder as if to hide it, or to somehow push it back in. Her blouse buttons broke off one by one, her loins tingling as her belly button popped outwards, swelled, and pinkened into an almost lewd nub. Her skin directly around it darkened with a flush, plumpening into a pink cupola, becoming an areola nearly as tender as the distending nub that centered it.

In the meantime, her belly continued to swell and bloat as Pam stared on in confusion and horror. Iowa gave an inane smile as she took in Pam’s form.

Pam staggered back, yelped, and did her best to support the weight of the new basketball-sized breast attached of her midsection. Her body shuddered as her arm slid against the hyper-sensitive nipple. It was so rousing, she nearly collapsed.

The nipple was tender and throbbing, a heated pressure building behind it, then a burning sensation.

In tandem, the investors stood, each of them gazing at her belly-nipple with greedy looking on their faces. They began to approach her, some licking their lips forebodingly. And Pam found herself glued to the spot.

The End