Bubble Gum

Traci was a charming young woman, full of optimism, endowed with good looks, and utterly lacking in intelligence.  Her natural expression was one of thoughtful introspection, a person preoccupied with their inner world.  This lead others to believe that therein lied a wise soul, up until they made the fatal mistake of asked her what she was thinking about or, more likely, she spoke up on her own, wondering aloud if Alaska was real.

In an attempt to curb her behavior her parents began giving her gum to chew.  She took to it, and it became a habit and interest that lingered to the present day, which found her in the college library studying, or what passed for it with her.  Within earshot three of her peers were having a conversation and, distracted, she couldn't help but listen in.

"I was thinking of going out tonight and getting Five Guys," the first said.

"You too?" the second asked. "That's usually what I do most of my Friday nights."

"Well, great!  Maybe we can go out to eat together."

The second looked perplexed for a brief moment. "...eat?  OH!  Right, right, of course, I'd love to have dinner with you!"

A third rolled her eyes. "I don't know how you can stand the food there.  It's like, nine hundred calories per burger."

"It's good!" the first exclaimed.

"It's unhealthy.  You are what you eat, you know."

Gears in Traci's head slowly began to turn and, after a few seconds, she swallowed her gum.


*****


Traci's diet underwent a radical change after that: Bubble gum-flavored Peeps, broccoli, soda, various other similarly-flavored foodstuffs, more gum itself, and strawberry milkshakes, which weren't quite the same but she assumed that the color was close enough.  Several weeks later she noticed that her skin was definitely pinker, although a wiser soul would have realized that it was the result of too much time in the sun.  Regardless, she was encouraged, and decided to step up her efforts.

She pushed the door of her dorm room open with her shoulder, entering and closing it behind her with her foot.  In her hands were two bags, one with three boxes of bubble gum, the other with a large bottle of liquid antacid.  Gum and milkshakes didn't sit too well in her stomach together, so she hoped drinking it would make her less nauseous.  Besides, it was pink too.

Emptying the bags, she took a seat on the bed and sliced open the plastic around her purchases with a pair of scissors.  Setting them aside on her dresser, she tore into the gum, shoving pieces into her mouth and chewing for a bit before swallowing and following it with a chaser of antacid.  Traci was not the wisest of people, and in a way her body was smarter than her, immediately informing her of the inedibility of her meal.  Still, she was nothing if not determined, and she pressed on.

As she finished the first box she noticed that she no longer felt full.  It wasn't that she was suddenly hungry; it was more that the contents of her stomach and, in a way, her stomach itself were no longer an issue.  As she no longer felt the least bit ill she took this as a good omen, and she pulled open the cardboard on another box and continued to dig in.

Partway through the second box her clothing began to feel clingy.  The closest she could think of is how they stuck to her body when she was sweating heavily, but she was inside and relaxed, so that definitely wasn't the problem.  As she polished off the box it had gotten to the point where she couldn't ignore it any longer and, standing, she began to remove her clothes.

What she thought was "clingy" turned out to be "sticky."  As she pulled up her shirt the bunched-up folds seemed to adhere to the underside of her breasts, and removing her pants took far longer than expected when the fabric kept getting stuck to her legs.  Her socks and underwear were as good as glued to her, forcing her to roll them up to take them off.  Once she was done, however, she was rather pleased with herself, and sat back down to her meal, completely oblivious to the absurdity of her sitting naked in her room eating gum and drinking antacid.

The monotony began to get to Traci and she laid back on the bed, popping pieces of gum into her mouth every so often.  Her mind wandered to this and that, and nothing of consequence or depth.  It was relaxing, and gradually became more so as the bed began to press less heavily against her spine, hips, and shoulders, eventually reaching the point where she didn't feel it at all.

As she reached for more gum her hands brushed against the bottom of the package, fingertips dragging as they adhered ever so slightly to the cardboard.  Dismayed, she sat up to look, only to freeze and gape at her hands.  Her arms - no, her entire body - was a pale pink, exactly the same texture and color as-

"Gum!" she exclaimed.  Jumping to her feet, she bounced around in giddy glee, solid curls of pink hair bobbing on her head. "I did it, I did it!  I turned into gum!  That girl was right after all!"  She laughed. "Boy, I bet those other girls are sorry they didn't listen to her.  They probably turned into gross greasy hamburgers by now."

She pursed her lips and blew, and a perfect bubble of gum formed.  She smiled to herself and was about to blow into it again, but stopped when she felt a part of her body brush against her lips, and a pocket of air in the same.  She deflated the bubble, taking it back into her mouth, and as she chewed the wad of gum shrank and disappeared. "Wow, weird.  But kind of cool!"

Traci took a deep breath, putting her lips together before blowing.  She expected a large bubble to form, and one did, in a way; her lips were pressed too tightly and the air stayed in her, causing her body to swell out around her waist, creating a spare tire around her midsection.  Bewildered, she gave it a poke.  Her body was soft, but there was a good amount of give beneath it.  She inhaled and blew again, watching as her belly surged out another foot, and smiled. "Hey, -I- can be the bubble!  This is -way- better than being a hamburger!"

Filled with newfound joy she began huffing and puffing, growing rounder.  Her belly grew larger before spreading up and down, creating a wide curve from below her breasts to between her legs.  Another blow and it rose up beneath her breasts, pulling them flat across her surface.  Laughing, she did a swan dive to the floor, bouncing and bobbing on a body inflated to the size of an exercise ball.  Squeezing her sides with her arms and knees she continued filling herself with air, rising higher in the middle of the room as her back and butt gradually became a single smooth curve.

She went to move her hands and feet, only managing to wiggle her toes and raise her fingers a fraction of an inch.  The rest was stuck fast against her sides, the pressure and growth having melded it all together.  Traci was worried, but only for a moment, concluding that the more gum that was in her belly, the larger the bubble she could make.  Besides, she could figure out what to do about it later.

Thus she continued to grow, taking up more of her room.  Bit by bit her limbs were absorbed by her belly, sinking into them and gradually becoming raised, faint contours before disappearing entirely.  Rather strangely, she felt her fingers and limbs pressing against herself, but as they melded with the rest of her they almost seemed to flip, and she felt not her body but the air around her.  Someone else might have thought about this and how it related to further changes they were undergoing, but Traci chose not to loom on at all, instead focusing on continuing to blow herself up.

By the time her limbs disappeared her head began to sink in, at first being drawn in to the neck, then the ears, then finally leaving her as a translucent pink bubble with eyes, a nose, and pursed lips, still puffing away.  What was her back was pressed against the ceiling, what was her belly was spread across the floor, and what were her limbs and sides continued their spread outward, taking up more and more of the room as she grew thinner.

Behind her, she grew over the edge of the dresser, coming ever closer to the discarded pair of scissors.  The bubble of her membrane-like skin loomed ominously as it crept towards them in time with her breathing.  She gave one last puff, filling out a fraction of an inch, and the tip of the scissors poked against the gossamer gum of her body.

Traci's eyes went wide, and without much fanfare, she quietly popped.