Indulgence
      
      
      
      “So what’re you in here for?”
      
      Patricia began to look up when she heard the voice speaking to her, but she immediately looked away with shame when she remembered why she had been avoiding staring directly at the room’s other occupant before now. The Vaporeon who stood at the other side of the cul-de-sac of lockers from her was in the process of undressing herself, and though her back was turned to her it didn’t change the fact that she was completely naked, having removed the jeans covering her slender, shapely legs, smooth blue skin reflecting the light of the room in its curvature. Long black hair ran past her neck and shoulders, just enough to cover the defined features of her upper back, as well as hiding her face from view until she turned just enough that that her stout snout could be visible, and the slightest peek of her pert bosom appearing from behind her arm.
      
      “I…I just heard there was some…demand for volunteer work here,” the bashful Charmander said, keeping her gaze averted, though at the same time unable to look anywhere other than down at her own, far more modest chest, tan scales restrained in a lacy white bra that might even be a little loose, before she started to undo it. She remembered the advertisements she had seen along the streets one day, offhandedly glancing at them while she kept her winter coat bundled tightly around her, indicating that the Almia Ambrosia Association was searching for volunteers to test new food products, and they were willing to pay a rather generous sum to those who met their specifications, which she had luckily managed to pass. “I thought I could use a little extra cash, y’know…what with the holidays coming up and all.”
      
      “Ah, I see,” the Vaporeon replied, and while Patricia didn’t look she could still hear the soft padding of footsteps against the cool tile floor turning about in a circular motion, “you must have signed up for the standard package they offer to everyone. As for me?” The steps continued to slowly and ominously prowl across the room as she proceeded to answer her own question without hesitation, “They personally approached me to try out a new, extra special product that they’re developing. They must know that only someone such as me could handle such an important task.”
      
      “Oh, um…that’s…pretty neat,” Patricia said, uncertain how to react, as she tried to smile nervously in an attempt to be sociable nonetheless. She stood up and hesitantly moved her hands down to the waistband of her skirt – she had hoped that she might be able to hold off on completely stripping down until the amphibious Eeveelution left her alone, but it seemed by now that she was intent on staying and chatting with her for as long as possible. “So…uh, what’s your name then?” she asked in an attempt to keep the subject off of herself while she slipped down her skirt and underwear, leaving only her tail to drape over the back of her legs and cool air coming in contact with her crotch.
      
      “Well, I suppose if you really must know,” the Vaporeon said after a brief pause of thought, “my name is Theresa. Ring any bells by any chance?”
      
      The Charmander shook her head, her curly, bushy mane of light brown hair rustling from side to side at the same time, as she took care to only move enough to see the slightest glimpses of the blue figure behind her.
      
      “I didn’t really think so,” she said in response with a disappointed sigh, “you don’t exactly look like the type to look into my line of work that often. I won’t bore you with the complicated details then, but suffice to say it’s vitally important for me to remain in peak physical condition, so it’s always a strict diet and exercise regimen for me.”
      
      “Then…what exactly are you doing in a test where the objective is to eat food?” Patricia asked, her curiosity from picking up on that little logical detail overriding her squeamish nature enough that she felt able to question her.
      
      “[i]You[/i] may be doing something as simple as ‘eating food’,” Theresa replied haughtily from behind her, “[i]I[/i], however, have been chosen to test a new food supplement that they guarantee to supply the perfect amount of nutrients to keep the body healthy while also maintaining a manageable weight. Finally, I’ll be able to eat as much as I want and there’ll be no worry about any of it damaging my figure!”
      
      Patricia wasn’t certain how something like that could possibly work, but it could be entirely possible with how strange this corporation seemed to be, especially considering the object that lay on the bench beside her, the reason she’d had to come to this changing room in the first place. It was a limp, formless mass of black, a physical manifestation of shadowy matter, its texture smooth and polished, similar to that of the Vaporeon’s skin, reflecting a glare of light in its wrinkled surfaces. With her clothes discarded, she now picked it up, and the lumpy mass unfurled into a humanoid shape, a broad central body with an opening at its top and an extension on either side in place of arms, with two more dangling below as legs, as well as a third hanging out the back for a tail. The latex uniform felt cold and clammy in her hands, and she was already hesitant of the thought of having her whole body enclosed by it; she had hoped she could at least keep her underwear on beneath it, but the instructions to be completely bare before putting it on had been very strictly emphasized.
      
      For as bizarre as something like this was though, let alone with the knowledge that she would soon have to wear it, the strangest thing to Patricia was that, even though it had been handpicked for her, it seemed far too large for her, the torso appearing like it would be a better fit for someone over twice as wide as she was. She turned it around and held it flat against herself, the black folds hanging downward and sending a chill through her where it touched her skin; it looked like it would be better used as a blanket for her than something to actually wear. Something cold tickled her scales, cooler and harder than the smooth, pliable latex all around it, and when she held it away from herself again she noticed a thin slit running down the back of the suit with a row of interlocking silvery teeth nestled between it. [i]No more holding off the inevitable[/i], she thought to herself as she pulled down the zipper, the suit’s interior gaping before her like a shadowy portal, and with one last gulp she lifted up a leg and put it inside.
      
      The supple material engulfed the Charmander’s body bit by bit, swathed around both of her legs before she began to pull it up higher over herself, feeding her tail into the designated loop until its tip popped out on the opposite end, relighting with a small, glowing flame. She held the main body of the suit around her torso, pushing her hands through the openings at the end and flexing them in the open air, and brought the color around her neck, the weight of the mass resting upon her shoulders. As expected, the black latex hung limply from her body, almost like a poncho, or perhaps a set of full-body pajamas that a child would wear; she wasn’t sure if it would be more appropriate to be going to bed or starting a very unusual bondage session.
      
      “Hey, lizard girl,” Theresa suddenly said in a bored drawl, “Why don’t you be a dear and come over here to help me zip up my clothes?” Patricia’s nervous mentality overrode her indignation at being referred to like a servant, but she hesitantly turned around. The Vaporeon was facing away from her again, but now she was no longer naked, clad in her own baggy uniform that obscured her slender figure, only leaving the small of her back exposed as she tried to pull the zipper back up over it. She had to take care to not trip over the draping folds that pooled around her feet as she approached, and when she stood behind Theresa she slowly pulled the zipper from the base of her thick tail all the way up to her neck, just beneath the circular frill that surrounded it.
      
      “Ah, that’s much better,” she said as she turned in place to face her, and now that Patricia looked at her face directly she could see how beautiful she looked, her features delicately carved from a body of blue flesh into a muzzle, smooth cheeks, and perfectly clear complexion, framed on either side by the neatly combed bangs of her dark hair. Her expression, however, was cold and impassive, her eyes staring dully back at the Charmander with disinterest and her lips pursed firmly together, neither frowning nor smiling. “Turn around, and I’ll do it for you now,” she said authoritatively, without the slightest hint of it being a gesture of reciprocation, only obligation.
      
      Patricia obediently shuffled her legs about until she faced the other direction, staring straight ahead at the tile wall on the other side of the room. “My, um…my name is actually Patric- AH!” She began to speak, only for her train of thought to be interrupted when Theresa violently jerked the zipper on her suit all the way up at once, pinching against her sensitive skin in the process.
      
      “I guess only someone like me can make this look good,” she mused, mostly to herself, ignoring the fiery lizard’s pain as she walked around her to look at her from the front, her petite figure completely obscured beneath the glossy latex surface, “though at least these aren’t the worst rags I’ve had to wear. Let’s just get this over with as fast as possible so I can get back in my normal dress.” She began to walk away, out from the lockers and around the corner, and even though her body was also covered completely by the baggy wrinkles of her uniform, there was a distinct swagger in the motion of her hips, her tail wagging from side to side. Patricia watched her as she left, but even though anger was boiling inside her she couldn’t find the will to say anything about it; the most she could do was contort her face into the best glare she could muster and direct it at Theresa’s departing back, which instead looked more like she was about ready to cry.
      
      Without much else to do, she glumly followed, turning left like the Vaporeon had and approaching a door in the locker room – not the door behind them, through which they had entered to begin with, which was made of plain wood, but instead one that was fashioned from polished metal, two featureless panels. There didn’t appear to be any way of opening it, no handles or even an interface to control it, but as they approached it the panels slid abruptly to either side, revealing a hallway behind it and a figure waiting for them. The Sawsbuck wore a black uniform very similar to theirs, but instead of being loose the latex was stretched snugly over a rather portly body, a round gut that wouldn’t be out of place on a pregnant woman bulging outward from her abdomen, her curvaceous hips and bosom further accentuated by the stretchy material that clung to her.
      
      “Greetings, test subjects,” she said with a curt nod of her horned head to each of them – Patricia returned the gesture, albeit with some amount of uncertainty, but Theresa remained stock still – “I have come to escort you to the proper facilities. Please, follow me quickly and don’t stray from the path; we don’t want either of our valuable volunteers to get lost.” Without another word or before the two could say anything in response, she promptly turned around and began to saunter away down the hallway, leaving them to fall in line behind her, Patricia lagging slightly behind Theresa as her pace periodically slowed before accelerating to get close again. The deer’s buttocks bulged through the taut latex of her suit, a pair of swollen globes that bounced and jiggled with every step she took with a small fluffy tuft of a tail poking out from between them, and her engorged legs squeezed against each other as they vied for space, producing a slight squeaking noise.
      
      “Just look at her…” Theresa suddenly muttered under her breath.
      
      “Huh?” Patricia asked as she caught up again, following around a curve in the passage.
      
      “What’s a fat cow like her doing in a place like this?” the tall Vaporeon said, just barely audible, her face set into a hardened scowl, “This is supposed to be a facility for the development of healthy food supplements, not a place for fatasses who can’t keep their hand out of the cookie jar. It just goes to show that even a diet powered by scientific innovation doesn’t mean anything if you lack moderation.”
      
      “Maybe…maybe she’s trying to lose the weight?” she replied cautiously, easily able to tell that this was a point of contention for Theresa and trying to diffuse the situation before it got worse.
      
      “Pff, as if,” she scoffed back, voice rising above a whisper for a brief moment, “can’t you see it in the way she walks?” Patricia was hesitant to look directly at the Sawsbuck’s wobbling rear, but she did so nonetheless, finding herself drawn somewhat to the hypnotic motions of flesh swaying back and forth in the process. “That kind of swaggering step isn’t something a woman looking to change her figure would have; that’s the posture of someone proud of the way she looks, someone ready to show herself off in any way possible. It’s disgraceful…wasting your body like that, she might’ve been someone like me if she weren’t so…ugh, it just makes my stomach churn.”
      
      Patricia couldn’t bring herself to respond, unsure how to approach such a topic, not to mention afraid that their guide would overhear, so she remained silent, but she looked down at her own body, obscured though it was by the baggy uniform. She wasn’t exactly overweight, but she was probably closer to that than being nearly as voluptuous as the Vaporeon next to her, and she wondered what it would have to take for her to be “beautiful”. Fortunately Theresa herself didn’t seem to care about further exacerbating the point and so she didn’t say anything else, simply frowning perpetually, leaving the group quiet for the remainder of their trip until they stopped in front of another door, one formed from smooth metal panels like the one before, though this one was substantially larger, several feet across in width. “We have arrived,” the Sawsbuck announced, and as she came to a stop beside the gateway and turned to face them again the metal panels slid apart, “please go inside and take your designated seats, the experiment will begin shortly.”
      
      They walked through and the door closed behind them with an abrupt whoosh of air, leaving them trapped in an octagonal room with walls and floors all composed of white linoleum, although the lights hanging from the ceiling had a faint blue tint that stained all the surfaces into a pale cyan color. There were two chairs sitting near the center of the room, simple designs with sturdy metal legs fastened to the floor and a single molded slab for both seat and back, standing about five feet apart from each other, facing toward the door they had entered through, and as they came closer it became apparent that they were quite wide, large enough that there would have been considerable room left over if either of the women sat on them. Patricia approached the seat on the left, noticing that at its top there was a label carved into its surface, indicating the series of letters and numbers “5603PC”, but despite being seemingly random she instantly recognized it and said aloud, “Hey, this one has my test number on it!”
      
      “And this one has mine,” Theresa said plainly in response as she bent over the other chair to inspect it, “I suppose that means this is where we’re supposed to sit.” She stood up straight and looked all around the room, stopping briefly at each of the eight walls only long enough to determine that there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen. “Not sure how this is supposed to work though…it doesn’t seem like much testing can be done in a place as empty as this.”
      
      With varying degrees of reluctance and apprehension, they both sat down and began to wait; Patricia started to glance about the room herself, curious as to what awaited them, while Theresa tugged on the loose flaps of her suit, unable to get comfortable with the layer of latex covering her, her tail occasionally lifting up and slapping its fin against the ground. After a few prolonged minutes, there was suddenly a loud rumbling, the grinding of machinery, but even though they both looked all around them they couldn’t pinpoint the direction of the noise. In front of them, two square depressions formed in the floor before they opened, creating dark pits beneath the white surface which were soon replaced by two new pieces of floor that perfectly filled the remaining space, and upon both of these was a table of similar design to the chairs. Each of the tables had a different object placed upon it: in front of Patricia there was a strange metal machine with a cylindrical shape and a nozzle on one side, accompanied by a tall aluminum cup, and Theresa had a polished metallic bowl with a lid placed on top of it.
      
      “Welcome, test subjects,” a voice suddenly said, booming in the room from all directions; it was muffled somewhat from the transmission between microphone and loudspeakers, but its tone seemed rather ambiguous, neither distinctly male nor female. “As you are aware,” it continued, “you are here to test some of our products before we put them out on the market. You have already acknowledged that we waive any responsibility for complications that may arise, but I can say with some certainty that you will leave here today with one-hundred-percent satisfaction in partaking of this experiment.”
      
      “Subject 5603PC-” Patricia looked up at the bright lights of the ceiling when it called out her assigned identification. “-you will be testing our new protein shake, a mixture of nutrient-enriched milk and vitamins, and we took the liberty of giving it a chocolate flavor to make it a little more palatable. Simply lift the handle on the nozzle of the machine in front of you to pour it into the provided cup. Now, as for Subject 8134TA-” Theresa didn’t make much acknowledgement, staring at the covered bowl placed in front of her blankly, “-you shall partake of some fresh, handpicked Belue berries, specially grown to reach their peak size and tenderness with additional experimental supplements added. Your tasks are actually quite simple: eat until you don’t feel comfortable eating any more. We await favorable results from both of you.” There was a sharp clicking noise, and the room was silent once again.
      
      The Charmander’s orange hands had already started to reach toward the objects placed before her when suddenly there was an amused laugh beside her. “Ha! I told you that they were keeping me for a special assignment,” Theresa said, grinning smugly as she glanced at Patricia just from the corner of her eyes, “they must have known how important it was for me to maintain my figure. You can feel free to drink your processed sludge; I’m going to take full enjoyment in some all-natural goodness.” She then leaned forward and pulled the top off from the container, revealing a collection of blue fruits with oblong, bulbous shapes, the stem attached to a mass that swelled out into a round bulb, but while normal Belue berries were small enough that one could easily fit one in their hand, these looked like they were nearly three times as big.
      
      “Shouldn’t you, um…still be careful about overeating?” she asked as the Vaporeon reached into the bowl and picked out one of the berries, her slender fingers unable to fully wrap around its swollen lower body.
      
      “Don’t be absurd,” she said with a sneer, “I’m not a slave to my hunger – I’ll stop exactly when I don’t care to eat anymore, exactly like the coordinator said to do just now.” Without further hesitation she raised the blue ball up to her mouth and took a bite out of its tender rind, juices splattering in her mouth and oozing from the wound. She was taken aback by the taste, expecting a wave of sourness to wash over her tongue as was typical of Belue berries, but instead it was incredibly sweet with only a slight acidic bite lingering before she swallowed the chunk of fruity meat.
      
      “Oh…goodness,” she said, her voice soft, the air taken out of her, “this is…one of the most delicious things I’ve eaten…in a long time.”
      
      “Wow, really?” Patricia asked, surprised that the Vaporeon had suddenly become so enthralled, appearing actually calm and content for the first time since she met her. “Can I try one?”
      
      She had barely moved at all, only slightly beginning to reach out toward her side, intending to wait until further confirmation before going any further, when Theresa snarled and clawed at the air in her direction. “No, these are mine!” the Eeveelution shouted, her fangs bared and her eyes narrowed in a display of feral animosity, prompting Patricia to shrink back in her chair away from her, before her expression softened again and she said, “I-I mean, this is my part of the experiment, not yours; we can’t intermingle with each other. You just start drinking your…shake…drink…whatever.” She returned to her meal, holding the berry close to her face while alternating between chewing and taking more bites.
      
      The Charmander watched her for a while longer, still shocked by the sudden burst of emotion from the normally stoic woman, until eventually she managed to calm down and settle into a comfortable position again. She tried to ignore the smacking sounds of eating messily coming from her left and focused on the task in front of her, taking hold of the silvery metal cup before staring cautiously at the machine; if she listened hard enough, she could hear a mechanical churning inside of it as it mixed its contents. Leaning forward and holding the mug under the tap as if she were at a restaurant refilling her soda, she lifted up the lever on top of it and a stream of thick, brownish ooze began to eke out of it, accompanied by the sweet smell of dairy products and fresh fruit, and it gradually filled the whole of the cylindrical container, causing it to become even colder to the touch in the process.
      
      The enticing aroma was enough that what remained of her doubts was quickly forgotten, replaced with an intense urge to drink from the savory liquid as soon as possible; she was so focused on looking at the bubbling surface of the liquid that she didn’t particularly notice how it rose closer to her, her hands automatically guiding it to her lips. The cold metal touched her mouth and she knocked her head back as she began to sip from it, and if she hadn’t been told that it was supposed to be a protein shake, she might have easily believed it was a normal chocolate milkshake, its flavor delectably rich and creamy as it flowed down her throat. What started as a sip turned into a prolonged series of gulps and then continuous chugging down, until the next thing she knew the cup was already empty.
      
      Patricia slumped back in her chair, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, but despite the bitter cold of the drink filling her stomach and spreading through her entire system she couldn’t help but be overcome by the pleasure of its taste, soothing her frazzled nerves and allowing her to truly relax for what felt like the first time in months. Even though she had just drunk about twenty ounces all at once, she didn’t feel particularly full; if anything, it only filled her with a yearning to have more, to taste the delicious nectar once again, to have her stomach packed as much as it could be, until she was completely satisfied. She didn’t waste another second in scooting forward again so she could place the cup under the mixer, wrenching up the nozzle’s lever and watching with bated breath as the milky goo trickled out, wishing that it could move at a faster pace so it could reach her belly sooner.
      
      While the Charmander continued to slurp up the flow of milkshakes, Theresa was finding herself unable to stop eating the ripe berries, not even leaving the cores and stems of the blue fruits behind as she now began to reach for her third. She remembered all the training she had had to endure in order to become a model, the intense rigor required to keep her figure at just the right balance of trim and curvy to fill out those dresses she was tasked with advertising. She had relished every second of the fame her career brought to her, she had let herself grow accustomed to the hordes of admirers who pined for her, she had lavished herself with every delicacy she could possibly afford, but no amount of power, popularity, or wealth had allowed her to indulge in a little gluttony; the risk to her body was simply too great. Now, drawn in to the flavor of the fruit, she felt unable to deny her long-suppressed hunger any longer; the rational part of her mind assumed that it wouldn’t matter, assured that the special effects of the food would handle all of her problems – she wouldn’t have anything to worry about anymore.
      
      It wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that so much eating would begin to have an effect on their stomachs as they became filled with matter awaiting digestion, but in the midst of their binging they didn’t pay much attention to how the latex folds covering their bodies, which had once been incredibly loose and baggy, were now showing signs of smoothing out. The space in their laps began to diminish as the black-clad mass of their abdomens marched forward, bulging out from a mere flat surface into a defined gut, though they appeared far larger than they ought to have been even considering how much they had eaten so far; had they bothered to feel their own expanding flesh, they would have noticed that it was soft and yielding to the touch instead of stiff and firm. The spread of fat was hardly limited to their stomachs either, as their hips and buttocks started to fill more of the seats that had previously appeared oversized for them, jutting outward in all directions, and even Patricia’s chest gained a profuse jiggling motion as their bosoms expanded, resting on the shelves of their bellies and filling the room between their arms.
      
      The fiery lizard now appeared at least twice as big as she had been when she came to the facility, her gut having become a huge, swollen globe of flesh that continued to be filled further with chocolate sludge, large enough that it forced her legs apart so she could give it adequate space. Her suit was completely taut by now, conforming to the supple curvature of her body – the round central shape of her stomach, with her pert breasts on top, each approaching the size of overgrown melons, and her thick, juicy thighs and rear below, providing adequate cushioning against the hard metal chair beneath her. Her posture remained hunched forward, her curly hair becoming disheveled and hanging over her eyes, pressing against the obstructive mass of her own belly, as her eagerness to keep drinking was so great that she tried to shorten the distance it would take to reach her mouth; sometimes she wouldn’t even wait for the cup to be completely filled before shoving it against her lips, the smell and anticipation so overpowering that she had to have it immediately.
      
      On the other side of the testing area, the Vaporeon was undergoing similar strain as her body filled the confines of her uniform, but to a far greater degree; the latex wasn’t merely formfitting on her, it was getting stretched to its absolute limits. Having already had a considerable hourglass figure, it was no surprise that the addition of fat caused her shape to be exaggerated even further, breasts passing the point where they were larger than her own head and approaching sizes well beyond normal conventions, her nipples forming noticeable dents in the stiff material of her suit, and her hips were of similar breadth, enough that they were starting to overflow the sides of her seat. Her belly was of no small size either, a round dome of flesh almost as large as Patricia’s, but with her engorged bosom hanging over it, it almost seemed insignificant in comparison to the rest of her body, but that would soon change as she continued to shovel more of the Belue berries into her awaiting maw.
      
      There was a small commotion, a stomping of heavy footsteps and the hollow clanging of the metal cup tipping over, as Patricia stood up, placing her hands on the table in front of her and pressing against its edge with her bloated belly; taking such small sips wasn’t going to sate her any longer, she was going to have to take it directly from the source. She licked her lips apprehensively, cleaning up the remnants of her drinking, before kneeling down and turning over so that her back was lying upon the table, putting her head right up beneath the nozzle, and she opened her mouth wide as the sweet, thick liquid came flowing right over her tongue and down her throat. Her gut filled at a rapid pace, first swelling with her drinking and then expanding further as additional layers of fat packed on top of it, spreading throughout her whole body with flesh that weighed downward upon itself and sagged in either direction.
      
      Theresa seemed to be having difficulty matching this same kind of ravenous devouring; even though she could still feel herself driven by her hunger, her belly still crying for more despite all that had already filled it, and the insatiable taste of the fruit, her movements were starting to become sluggish. With every bite it was becoming more and more of a chore to move her arms, their length beneath the latex becoming swathed in sleeves of lard that overpowered her muscle mass and was trying as hard as possible to keep them at a natural resting state. She sat as far forward on her seat as she could while maintaining her balance – though her ballooning bottom still covered most of its surface – and leaned forward so she could minimize the distance between herself and the bowl, in the process causing her protruding bosom to mash against the edge of the table in front of her.
      
      Although her eating had begun to slow, the Vaporeon still had a substantial head start over Patricia, and she was consuming a far more potent substance than the protein shake – every bite that she swallowed added another inch of flab around her whole body, causing her suit to start creaking and groaning as it tried to contain her. Her eyelids started to droop under the weight of exhaustion even as she continued to shove the overgrown berries into her maw, cramming her puffy cheeks full as juices splattered over them and trickled over her chin; she wasn’t even thinking anymore, she was running completely on autopilot. The Charmander, on the other hand, was still feeling quite lucid as she swallowed ounces, then liters of sweet chocolate nectar, the cold that it instilled in her enough to keep her awake so that she could then feel the wonderful warmth of the flesh growing to take its place. Latex constricted her, conforming to every curve of her body, and she couldn’t help but squirm and wriggle in the midst of her binging in an attempt to relieve the pressure, though it felt strangely pleasurable in the depths of her mind, buried beneath the urges to eat.
      
      The goal for the experiment had been for them to continue eating until they felt that they couldn’t bear to any longer, and it was likely that they could have kept going for even longer, but there was an implicit limit to how much they were able to eat that was only revealed when there was finally nothing left. Patricia kept her hand firmly latched onto the handle of the mixer for a few seconds before it dawned on her that the flow had stopped completely, every last drop poured out into the depths of her stomach, and Theresa scraped her hand along the bottom of the bowl, lifting it up and seeing (though not quite registering) the distorted reflection of her swollen face in the metallic surface. They both slumped back into their chairs, clutching their bellies and groaning as the high of their binge wore off, leaving them exhausted from the exertion of stuffing their faces for so long, almost as if even their brains had become addled from the growth of fat around them.
      
      There was another whoosh of metal doors sliding apart, but this time it was not the doors through which the two women had entered, instead a hole that opened up in one of the other walls of the room, from which three figures wearing long white lab coats appeared, a Kadabra, a Mienshao, and a Snorlax. They approached the test subjects, carrying with them electronic tablets that served the function of high-tech clipboards of notes, upon which they were continuing to write as they came close enough to make more detailed examinations of the results from this experiment. “What do you think about this?” the Mienshao, the smallest of the three, his coat hanging loosely from his shoulders so that his body features were hard to identify, asked aloud as he preened the thin whiskers on his snout, his voice the same as that which had spoken over the loudspeaker earlier.
      
      “I was quite impressed by the voracity this young Charmander displayed,” the Snorlax commented, quite large and bulky in his own right, a prominent gut protruding from the folds of his coat, though his size was still lackluster in comparison to Patricia herself. The fiery lizard’s belly sprawled out from her torso, a gigantic glob of flesh that engulfed the entirety of her thighs and spilled further over her knees, yearning to ooze toward the floor, so large that she couldn’t reach her hands all the way around its circumference. Her bosom rested on top of this colossal sphere, each engorged tit the size of a watermelon, straining to fit inside the confines of her suit, though they served adequately as pillows for her to rest her head on, just as her buttocks acted as a cushion to hold up all of her mass.
      
      “I don’t think anyone we’ve brought in for these tests has shown quite as much zeal to continue eating as she did,” he continued with a smile, “even considering the stimulants we use to increase their hunger.”
      
      “Admirable, Walter,” the Kadabra said coldly while she tapped a stylus on the side of her tablet, “but such things are irrelevant here.” Her coat was left unbuttoned, revealing that beneath it she also wore a suit of black latex, stretched taut over a round, sagging paunch and the broad slopes of hips that swayed from side to side as she sauntered over to the other side of the testing area. “The pressure sensors beneath the chairs have already calculated their weights, and they’ve come out to be exactly as I predicted. Subject 5603PC took our standard supplements and gained approximately four-hundred and ninety-six pounds, which would have come to pass no matter how quickly she ate. Subject 8134TA, however, was testing my new, improved formula, and in doing so gained eight-hundred and fifty-four pounds, and as a result formed a severe dependency for it. I believe this is going to pave the way for even more effective supplements that will soon have customers flocking to us for more and more to eat.”
      
      Theresa stirred, perhaps sensing that people were talking about her, but there was little she could bring herself to do beyond shift in place, a glacial motion of flesh, as her body was still held in place by fat and a languid stupor. She could still taste the last drops of the berries’ juices in her mouth and hunger gnawed at her, growling within the bowels of her swollen stomach as she clenched it weakly with her sausage-like fingers, though it could hardly be seen at all beneath the canopy of her breasts, each engorged globe the size of a beach ball, stretching the dark canvas of her suit to its breaking point. Her ass was equally enormous, buttocks and thighs spreading out so far to either side of her that they sagged over the sides of the chair, and her tail extended from above them and hung lethargically down to the ground, too thick to move anymore.
      
      “Ngh…more…” she groaned, and all three of the scientists looked up upon hearing her, “mooore…fooood…!” She didn’t care anymore that eating too much would ruin her figure and prevent her from modeling – she could barely even remember that she had once been a model in the first place – all that mattered now was that she continued to fill her stomach, to taste such delicious luxuries.
      
      “Hmm…perhaps a little [i]too[/i] dependent,” the Kadabra added, scribbling an addendum to her notes.
      
      Patricia’s eyes slowly began to flutter open as she lifted her head up from her own cushiony body and yawned while stretching out her limbs, the latex covering her body creaking ominously as the stress of holding itself together momentarily increased. “Oh my…that was quite a nap,” she said to herself before letting her hands fall back down against the sides of her stomach, slapping against the sides of the doughy mass, and she giggled to herself as she continued, “and quite a meal too.” She then began to stand up again, struggling to hold the weight of her new body as her legs nearly buckled under her bulk, but she managed to rest her belly upon the table in front of her as she caught her breath.
      
      “Uh, should she be standing up again so soon?” the Snorlax apparently named Walter asked worriedly, “I thought they always stayed subdued longer than this!”
      
      “Perhaps it’s simply that same ‘zeal’ you were so proud of,” the Mienshao replied plainly as he stepped closer to the Charmander, hiding his tablet behind his back, and to her he said, “Hello, test subject, and congratulations on completing your assignment. You may call me Dr. Dawson, I’m the supervisor of these tests – you might recall seeing my name on those liability papers we had you sign. If you don’t mind me asking, please tell me: how are you feeling right now?”
      
      Patricia had difficulty registering that he was talking to her exactly because of how she was feeling as her brain became consumed by a wealth of sensory and tactile information from all of her new body at once. All around her the latex suit which had once been comically undersized was now so taut on her that it was practically like a second skin, squeezing and digging into her flesh even tighter whenever she tried to move, all the while producing high-pitched squeaking sounds wherever it managed to rub against itself. She grunted every time she felt the material tighten, constricting her sensitive breasts together or riding up between her legs so that it gave her an intense wedgie, and her engorged belly was far too large for its confines, not helped by the yearning of hunger she still felt within her, but despite all this she still couldn’t stop herself from grinning. “I…I feel…good,” she said, though not without a hint of drunkenness as she pressed a hand against the side of her gut, sinking into the latex-clad flesh.
      
      “Ha…hey, lizzie gal!” She turned in the other direction when she heard Theresa voice from beside her, as even in the throes of pleasure wracking her senses she was able to notice a discrepancy in the way she spoke, the haughty air of pride having vanished. “Can you...let me have some of that…that milkshake stuff?”
      
      “Sorry, Theresa,” she replied, sticking out her tongue cheekily while she continued to knead her belly, “there’s none of it left anymore. Maybe you should’ve given me some of your berries!”
      
      The Vaporeon laughed loudly, a series of guffaws that caused her entire overgrown body to heave in fits of jiggles, interrupted by a rumbling from within, prompting her to wrap her arms around her stomach, in the process pushing up her prodigious bosom. “Hey…lizzie,” she said, her bloated face spread into the same goofy grin as Patricia, “d’you always look…so nice? So…big ‘n curvy?”
      
      “I dunno about how I look…” she replied, glancing down at herself and mimicking the same pose as the super-sized Eeveelution, squeezing between the meeting of her belly and chest (though she had far more ease in doing this with her significantly smaller breasts), and a surge of pleasure spread through her like wildfire. “…but I definitely [i]feel[/i] better than I ever have before!”
      
      “That’s good,” Theresa replied with some vague semblance of sage wisdom, “as long as you feel good about yourself…that’s what’s important. And right now-” There was another gurgle from within the depths of her blue blubber. “-I feel that I need more of that delicious food, pronto!”
      
      “It sounds to me like our other guest has more than adequately completed her test requirements,” Dawson said. “She’s ready to leave now, but I think she’ll need some assistance for transport.” He clapped his hands twice in rapid succession, and another wall in the octagonal room opened to reveal another group of obese Pokemon wearing the latex bodysuits, the Sawsbuck from before among them, pushing between them a large, cushioned chair mounted on wheels toward Theresa.
      
      “Pardon me…” Patricia nearly jumped when she felt the thin fingers place themselves upon her shoulder and she turned to see the Kadabra standing beside her, gently nudging the side of her meaty thigh against hers, black uniforms squeaking together. “I couldn’t help but notice the enthusiasm with which you were eating earlier, and I wondered if, perhaps, you wouldn’t mind returning here for…” She leaned in closer, forcing their flabby bodies together even more tightly, and whispered in her ear, “…more experiments?”
      
      “More…?” the Charmander repeated, in awe at the mere notion, as she pondered to herself. Though it was starting to feel distant by now, she could still remember the phantom taste of the shake as it trickled down her throat, and how desperately she wished she could have more. She could also remember the smell of the Belue berries that Theresa had been eating and how tempting it had been to taste them for herself as well, and then she began to think about all the other wonders this facility might have to offer for her bottomless stomach. But she wondered whether she’d be able to handle the consequences of so much eating, her body already full to bursting, overwhelmed by the pressure of her suit.
      
      Then she took another glance at the Vaporeon, who was in the middle of a fit of giggles as the assistants tried desperately to shift her from where she was currently sitting to the mobile transport, the enormous curves of her body moving like an avalanche of latex-coated flesh. Patricia had found herself coveting her good looks when they first met in the locker rooms, but now, even though she finally felt satisfaction with her appearance, she couldn’t help but think of the possibilities stretching out before her. “You know,” she said as she turned back to the Kadabra researcher with a smug smile, “I don’t think that would be too bad of an idea.”