Stuffed, Part 7

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Summary: Inspired by Surrogate Stuffing by Jaundis. Lynn is thirty-six. Her eighteen-year-old daughter, Hina, loves to stuff her belly to the brim with food. Determined to mitigate the effects of this bad habit, Lynn casts a spell to make 3/4 of the food that Hina consumes teleport to Lynn’s own belly. But Lynn soon realizes that this was a bad idea, because Hina doesn't stop eating until she feels really stuffed. Contains: Female: stuffing, belly expansion, weight gain, force feeding. Request submitted by Sebastian.

This story is a work of fiction. As specified throughout the story, all characters featured in this work are 18 years of age or older.

Previous Chapter

-

Hina was on a field trip that day.

Her class was doing a campus tour of the local State College. She was wearing sunglasses and a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, hiding her headphones. She might have found the tour interesting or even exciting several days earlier, but after her recent breakup, she found it difficult to pay mind to anything outside the overwhelming sadness.

Booze helped. Hina had thrown back two mini-bottles of vodka on the bus ride over.

But she kept her composure, and kept her head down, trying not to draw attention. She wanted to enjoy the queasy daze of inebriation as she shuffled around within her group of eager classmates.

College, Hina thought bitterly. It was hard to see the concept with any positivity. She and Pete had been planning to go to university together. They had even discussed getting an apartment.

Hina sniffled. “Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.

A few of the nearby students sent her offended glances. Hina quickly pressed her lips and put her head down, staring at the grass.

She could hear their teacher’s muffled voice in the background of her music. “And this is the library! It sits right in the middle of campus, and it’s three stories high. Let’s go inside.”

As the teacher led the class towards the library, Hina took notice of two shirtless young men walking toward the back of a different building, one carrying a huge tray piled with…hot dogs? One had a sideways baseball cap, while the other wore shorts and a funky pair of sunglasses with heart-shaped lenses. They disappeared into a wooded area, and Hina couldn’t help wandering after them, genuinely curious of what was going on. Neither her teacher nor her classmates seemed to take notice of her departure from the group.

Hina stumbled through the wooded area, barely keeping up with the guys. It was her own fault for getting tipsy. What am I doing? she wondered to herself after five minutes of trying to follow the duo. Then again, who cared? It wasn’t as though she had anything better going on.

She stumbled upon a house in a large clearing. It was pretty typical, if a bit run down once she really studied it. It was also quite large. Hina could hear the loud music blaring within.

“Hey there!”

Hina spun around, startled as she came face-to-face with the two guys she had been following. “I, um —” she stammered.

“Here for the day-party?” said the guy with the baseball cap, offering a crooked smile.

Several yards behind them Hina could see other people walking over. She could hear their chattering voices. A day party?

She looked back at the house and finally registered what was going on. This…oh. It must have been a frat house.

“Yes?” Hina responded without really thinking about it. It wasn’t as though she had anything better to do.

The guy in the baseball cap chuckled. “Come on in,” he said, leading the way.

Hina followed the two guys, and as she glanced back at the wooded area, she could see another guy carrying an even bigger tray of hot dogs.

Weird, she thought, as she walked inside.

-

Why the hell was Hina drinking!? It was four in the afternoon! And she was only eighteen!

Lynn was furious. This was just going too far!

“What’s wrong Lynn? Is it time?” asked Charlotte, looking panicked.

Lynn blinked back at Charlotte. It took her a moment to articulate her thoughts. “Can I have a ride?” she asked, doing her best not to slur. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and tried calling her daughter.

“Of course,” Charlotte said, getting up and taking Lynn’s work bag before Lynn could stop her. “Oh my gosh, where to? Should we go straight to the hospital?” Almost a habit by then, Charlotte’s eyes darted down to Lynn’s enormous belly. Given how big Lynn was, she looked as though she was at term with twins.

The call went directly to voicemail. Lynn dialed Hina again, feeling both desperate and furious.

Clutching her abdomen with her free hand, she allowed Charlotte to hold the door for her as she waddled out of the office.

-

Hina was on her second beer and barely feeling a buzz. As with eating, she surmised that most of what she drank went directly to her mother. Hina scoffed at the injustice of it all. She was having the worst week of her life, and she couldn’t even get properly drunk!

The music was deafeningly loud, tipsy college students at every corner. Some of them were dressed as though they were at the beach or something. Hina supposed this might have been more fun or interesting if she hadn’t felt so lonely.

The music lowered a few notches.

“It’s time for the hot dog eating contest!” some guy shouted. “Who’s in? Three-hundred dollar cash prize! And as a bonus, we’ll let you stuff your face in Stacy’s big fake tits!”

“Hey!” cried a busty blonde girl, swatting him playfully as others cheered.

Three hundred bucks? Hina knew she could absolutely dominate an eating contest, given her magical affliction.

“Thinking about it?” said someone beside her. Hina looked up to see that it was the guy in the heart-shaped glasses from earlier. “Doug,” he added with a grin, offering his hand.

“Hina,” she responded, shaking it. She turned her gaze back to where the contest was being set up, two jocks dragging over a folding table as several trays of hot dogs were brought over. “I don’t know…” she said. Hina did love to eat. She loved hot dogs. And at that moment, she couldn’t stand her mother.

“You should go for it. I’d root for you,” Doug said, amusedly.

Why the fuck not? “I’m a bottomless pit,” she admitted, stepping forward.

“Fuck yeah!” Doug said as Hina joined the row of participants.

-

There was discomfort and dizziness – it was a struggle for Lynn to convince Charlotte to drive her home rather than to the hospital.

Charlotte insisted on helping her out of the car. Lynn gave an awkward smile when an elderly neighbor congratulated her.

“I didn’t even know!” the old woman croaked. “My god — you weren’t even showing!”

Lynn quickly unlocked her front door and waddled inside, Charlotte close behind her.

“What do you need?” Charlotte demanded. “Hot water? Should I get some towels?”

Lynn scowled. “No, and no. I’m going to change.” She looked down at her straining clothing. “You stay here. Sit down.” She motioned to the couch. “Just relax, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Charlotte bit her bottom lip, but nevertheless did as instructed, settling her plump backside onto the living room couch.

With a sigh, Lynn made her way towards her bedroom, stumbling at times. God, she felt completely wasted.

She gripped onto the door frame when she made it to her closet. The world swam as she clumsily grabbed a dress she thought was stretchy enough to accommodate her in all her hugeness. She managed to doff her work outfit and pull the dress over her head, then drag it down over her body.

It was thin and stretchy, the material hugging against her, and perhaps showing off too much, but she was in her own home after all. It wasn’t as though she had a wealth of options.

It was certainly more comfortable than the constricting material she’d had on.

Lynn exited the bedroom, holding onto the wall as she made her way back to the living room. She found Charlotte still sitting there, looking on edge.

“I’m not in labor,” Lynn specified for the umpteenth time. Ironically, it felt like a concession of sorts. But she couldn’t be bothered to again explain that she wasn’t even pregnant. Charlotte didn’t believe her, nor did anyone else.

Charlotte’s tense shoulders seemed to relax, if just slightly. “Right. Okay,” she responded, her gaze again shooting to Lynn’s belly, as though magnetized. “…you sure?”

Lynn’s exasperated groan became one of discomfort as a familiar blossoming of tension overwhelmed her. Hina was eating. “Oh god,” Lynn breathed, one of her hands holding the wall, as her other hand clutched her belly. This just felt spiteful. First Hina had gotten drunk, and now she was eating as well. Why isn’t she in school!? Lynn wondered as the pressure grew and grew, until she could tell it was a binge session. Hina was stuffing herself.

“Errgghhh…” Lynn grunted as her belly tightened more, the pressure filling her. She was astonished by the rate at which Hina was eating. She could feel herself rapidly filling up, pushed to capacity, and then beyond it. Her belly was already shifting and trembling, starting to tighten visibly as her stretched dress stretched even more. Lynn arched her back, her cheeks flushing and her insides stinging as her belly continued to expand.

There was a sudden peak in the tension. Lynn yelped as her belly button popped out.

“Oh my god!” Charlotte gawked at the scene, looking both baffled and horrified. “That’s it, I’m calling 911!” She pulled out her phone and started dialing.

“Don’t!” Lynn cried, but was soon back to grunting and gripping her belly. She doubted she could make a convincing argument. “Nnngghhhh…” She moaned, starting to sweat at her temples. She struggled to breathe as her belly tightened, growing increasingly massive on her slim body. She began to look as though she was at term with triplets in only moments, and still, she continued to swell.

Her belly visibly tightened a notch with a sharp stitch of pain. Lynn threw her head back and screamed.

There was pounding on the front door. “Police! Open up!” A booming voice demanded.

Charlotte hurriedly got up and opened the door. “My friend—” she stammered. “She’s in labor! Please hurry!”

Lynn wailed in agony as her living room was flooded with police officers and paramedics. She tried to protest but couldn’t seem to formulate complete sentences. Her stomach was only getting tighter, and felt as though it might rupture from the sheer pressure of whatever Hina was stuffing into it.

The paramedic stared at Lynn. So did the police officers. One cop mouthed ‘she’s huge’ to another.

“No,” Lynn rasped as to paramedics began to check her pulse and blood pressure. Another was wheeling over a gurney. “I’m f-fine,” she croaked, her belly throbbing.

Yet she couldn’t effectively reject their services. She was helpless as they hauled her onto the gurney and started wheeling her out of the house and towards the back of an ambulance.

“I’m coming with her!” Charlotte insisted, hurrying after them.

The sirens blared, and in only moments, Lynn was being rushed to the hospital. A paramedic put an IV line in her arm.

“Hold my hand!” Charlotte insisted.

Lynn squeezed it, only because the pressure was awful! She felt as though she might tear to shreds. Her dress was damp with sweat, her whole face red as she struggled to breathe through the tension.

“I think she’s having another contraction!” Charlotte cried.

“Hoo hoo, hahhhh. Hoo hoo, haaaa,” a paramedic simulated Lamaze, encouraging her.

Lynn writhed on the gurney. Laying on her back was not a comfortable position, especially given the weight of her belly. She tried to turn, but a paramedic held her in place.

“Don’t move, just relax,” he said. “Try not to push. We’re almost there.”

“It’s going to be okay, Lynn, you’re gonna have these babies soon!” Charlotte rambled.

Babies? So now she was pluralizing it? The audacity!

The ambulance sharply came to a stop. Lynn groaned as her body jerked. Clutching her belly, she struggled through her next words. “I — not —preg —”

“We’re here!” The double doors swung open, revealing a doctor and several nurses.

“Quick, get her up to maternity!”

“What’s her blood pressure?”

“Do we know how far she’s dilated?”

Soon Lynn was being wheeled toward the hospital elevators with Charlotte hurrying alongside her, continuing to offer assurances.

“Is it John’s?” Charlotte whispered. “Should I call him?”

Fuck my life, was all Lynn could think in response.

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