With the help of some of her friends, the fatter Marissa forced herself to her feet and undid her belt. Her gut, now free from the belt, seemed to grow a bit. She waddled over to one of the tables and started to eat. She mowed down all the food at that table in a minute flat, and had fed herself all the food in the cafeteria within ten minutes.
Her couch-like ass fit perfectly with her thighs, which could probably fit you in each of them. The seams on her jeans looked ready to burst, and the spot where her belly (now a few feet around) ended and her shirt (which was barely covering her now expanding 72DD boobs) began was turning purple from the pressure.
Somehow getting up from her seat, Marissa checked to make sure the lunch ladies had left and then, overcome by hunger, she entered the kitchen, and- jackpot! Not only were the leftovers from today’s lunch all there, but the uneaten food for the past week was just sitting there!
As she stuffed the remaining chicken down her throat (she was starting to work backwards from today’s lunch,) everyone was able to notice the change immediately. Her ass was growing and growing, along with her tree-trunk-like thighs. Her belly expanded rapidly, finding space to put all the food she was eating. She managed to stop for just a second to lift her fat arms, grab her shirt, and lift it past her 30-something chins and over her head. Marissa’s breasts seemed to grow without the old top constricting them, even if her bra was reaching 100 sizes too small.
When Marissa finished today’s leftovers, she began cramming Mexican food into her face from yesterday. When her jeans finally burst, you realized that her blinding hunger would probably stop if she ended up obese and naked in public. Knowing what to do, you race down to the locker room as fast as your piggy little legs can carry you.
…”Make sure to eat healthily,” your gym teacher had lectured your class earlier in the month, “Or you’ll be so fat that you’ll be wearing these.” And then she held up two things: a pair of sweatpants that could easily hold a few-hundred more pounds than Marissa weighs, and a shirt that might be able to hold a couple hundred extra pounds of fat as well.
“Come on,” you tell yourself as you practically rip apart the teacher’s office, “They’ve gotta be here somewhe-” And you stop as you spy the clothes. But as you’re on your way out, you remember something.
“Able to see weight and clothes size… but I’ll never be below 350 pounds…” You weigh the decision in your head and you decide- being fat isn’t THAT bad. You open your locker and take out your gym clothes- they were a few sizes too big. You strip down to nothing but your panties, and then put on the loose pants and too-big shirt.
Then you say to yourself, “I’ll make the trade… 350 pound minimum weight for the Weigher’s Eye.” You feel a warm sensation all over your body and you realize that you’re already expanding. After a few seconds, the feeling goes away and you turn to the full-body mirror.
Sure enough, besides your new fat and the fact that the clothes were perfect fits, you see words above your head: “350 pounds. XXXL.”
Practically bursting wit excitement, you run to the cafeteria as fast as you can and approach one of Marissa’s friends.
“Get her to put these on, or she won’t keep eating.” Horrified at the thought of her new mocking target being less of a fatass, she quickly grabs the clothes and approaches Marissa, and you see how far she’s come since you left.
She has to be the fattest person you’ve ever seen. Her belly was five times your size, and each thigh was big enough to hold four of you. Marissa’s ass had grown to the size of two couches, and her chin count seemed to be nearing 70. After the girl coaxes her into putting on the clothes, Marissa removes her bra under her shirt and her boobs expand to their actual new size- each one could fit five of you, just like her belly.
But even though Marissa’s eaten every bite of food in half the school, the fat clothes are still about a hundred pounds short- and Marissa’s still hungry enough to feel like she hasn’t eaten in a year.
Sensing the end, you look up at her. And, sure enough, above her head are words: 769 pounds. X8L.”
‘Fill out the fat clothes,’ you think to yourself, and Marissa suddenly begins to gain. As soon as it looks as if the pants are about to start ripping, she stops. You end her hunger, she looks down, and…
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