Can We Hit One Million Likes Before I Burst

After only fifteen minutes and thirty-four seconds, Tiffany and her mother, Jessie, managed to disqualify themselves from the Wonka factory tour. Admittedly, it was an impressive feat to lose that quickly, and would be a daunting new record to beat. Wonka only grumbled and checked his pocket watch. At this point, the only thing that really surprised him anymore was his ever-growing losing streak wagering with those little orange bastards, whose predictions were always terrifyingly precise. Still, it broke the monotony. Wonka sighed and adjusted his top hat, “At this rate, they’re gonna rob me blind,” he thought as Jessie squealed in shock.

“Tiffy! Your face! It’s… Purple!” Jessie covered her agape mouth with both hands. Her arms squeezed her barely covered--and braless--E cup breasts and further strained her orange and red paisley tube top, whose tenacity was nearly as incredible as Wonka’s candy. In the air conditioned room, her nipples poked against the fabric like twin mountain peaks. “Oh my God, you look so cute! Oh, I just need to post this on Insta!”

“And I thought they were stupid in ‘71,” Wonka thought.

“M-mom! This really isn’t the time!” Tiffany stomped her foot as her blue stomach crept forward and untucked her expensive white designer blouse. Juice was already pouring into her C cup breasts, which began to strain her brand new white lace bra. “Ooh, I’m filling up so fast! Make it stop!”

Jessie snapped a photo mid-shout, with Tiffany’s blue mouth wide open and her glossy blue lips gleaming under the overhead lights. “Oh, that’s a cute one!”

One of the pint-sized brats stuck out his tongue. “It’s not gonna stop ‘till you pop, ya big blue dummy! You’re gonna get big and round and then go boom and leave a big mess!” Before he could continue, his father smacked him upside the head.

Wonka scowled at the both of them. He put down $200 that the brat would get shrunk, but the more he watched them, the more he realized he was wrong again, and that the kid was really destined for the egg chute.

Jessie showed the photo to Tiffany, who whined as her growing gut spilled out from under her shirt. She was beginning to feel her underwear shift and tighten underneath her skirt. “See, honey? You look so adorable all blue and pudgy. Your cute little red skirt even distracts from how fat you are!”

Tiffany blushed violet as she watched her rapidly expanding ass escape the cover of her plaid skirt. “Mom, this isn’t helping!” Coin-sized gaps between the buttons of her blouse grew wider as her swelling breasts spilled over her bra.

“Oh, quit being such a negative nelly. You’ve already got five likes! And see,” she shoved her phone in her daughter’s face, “I even wrote a cute little caption. ‘Tiffy tried some gum today at Wonka’s and now she’s all blue!’ Oh, it’s got ten likes, now!”

“But Mom, I don’t want to be a blueberry!” Tiffany’s blonde pigtails shifted as they rested on her expanding chest. “Oh, I’m filling up too fast!” Tiffany panted and groaned as she cradled her burgeoning belly, which already looked bigger than a due pregnancy with triplets. As her thighs fattened and stretched her fishnet stockings, her ass cheeks raced to be the largest of them all. The middle button of her blouse burst open.

Jessie took another photo. “Ooh, Tiffy! You never told me you had such cute undies!” She picked up her daughter's skirt and snapped another photo. "They're adorable!"

Tiffany flushed, “M-mom, you’re embarrassing me!” She reached back and pulled down her skirt as best as she could, covering her new pair of white panties, dotted with pink hearts. “Don’t look!” Another button burst off her blouse, this time the one just above the middle. A large crevasse of cleavage peeked through the opening as her bra struggled to contain breasts five times larger than it was ever designed for.

Jessie snapped another photo. “Honey, you’re not gonna believe this! You are positively blowing up--”

“I know that!”

“No, sweetie, on Instablam! You’re already past four hundred likes! See?” Jessie showed Tiffany her latest post, whose comments section was already horrifically explicit, of Tiffany cradling her massive belly as a generous swathe of her childish panties lay exposed for the world to see over her colossal rear end. The caption read, ‘Tubby Tiffy’s gonna need extra time at the gym to work this weight off!’

Tiffany shrieked, “Oh my God, Mom! If I ever go back to school I’ll be a laughingstock,” and buried her violet face in her plumping blue hands, “I wish I was dead!” Then, with impeccable timing, Tiffany’s bra snapped and released her titanic tits in a tidal wave of cleavage that threw her off balance and sent her toppling onto her billowing belly. The second-lowest button burst off immediately, leaving just a single button below and two above her massive mammaries. Her tiny skirt served as little more than decoration over her totally exposed underwear as her rear continued to grow. “Ah! Help! Help! I can’t get up!” Tiffany flailed her pudgy arms and THICC thighs as her belly rose like dough and her back fattened with blueberry juice.

Jessie snapped another photo, largely focused on her daughter’s cavern of cleavage, and captioned it, ‘Tubby Tiffy’s titanic tits keep growing! Now Tubby Tiffy’s so big she can’t move! Let’s hope she can roll!’ “Wow, sweetie, you’re already past seven hundred likes! You’re huge!”

Wonka cleared his throat and limped forward on his cane, holding a piccolo in his hand. “Well, might as well get on with it.” After playing an ear splitting trill, a platoon of orange midgets dressed in lederhosens with green hair, large bushy green moustaches, and feathered caps marched four abreast from behind the factory equipment.

Tiffany’s jaw dropped as she shoved her growing cleavage out of her face to see. “Wait, they were there the whole time?” She wobbled on her juicy belly as her thick thighs stiffened.

The oompa loompas nodded and chattered, “Oh, ja, ja! Ze whole time!” They snickered as one said, “Und nice underpants frau Amerikaner!” The oompa loompas chattered “Ja! Ja!” as they laughed Teutonically.

The tour group looked at each other quizzically. Jessie blurted out the obvious question, “Why are they German?” Tiffany, meanwhile, whined as her back rounded out with her belly into a massive sphere, which began to assimilate her thighs into its globular mass.

One of the oompa loompas stepped forward. “Nein! Ve are not Cherman! Ve are Bavarian! Und proud of it!” This last remark was met with a sonorous chattering of “Ja! Ja!”

Wonka shuffled between the two groups and tucked away the piccolo. “As much as I’d hate to put an end to this wonderful little educational seminar, I’m afraid miss priss and her bimbo mother need an escort to the juicing room. Can you handle that while I continue with the tour?”

The oompa loompas snapped to attention and saluted. “Ja, mein Fuhrer!”

Wonka laughed nervously and made a “Cut that out,” gesture with his hand. “That’s wonderful. Now,” he said, pounding his cane on the floor, “the rest of you, follow me.” As the remaining members of the tour group followed the geriatric factory owner, the cute little five year old girl in the back innocently waved goodbye to Tiffany, who nervously flapped her hands as her arms went stiff.

Jessie snapped another photo as Tiffany’s body grew nearly spherical, with only her stubby stiff cones-for-arms remaining, and captioned it, ‘Tiffy’s gotten herself all big and round and full of juice! She makes such a cute berry girl!’ “Tiffy, good news! You’re already at two thousand likes--three thousand! You’re exploding!”

“Mom, can you use like, any other word?!” Tiffany kicked her nubby feet in protest as her arms subsumed into her spherical berry body. “I already feel ready to burst and I don’t need--Ooh! B-be gentle down there!” Tiffany flapped her hands and kicked her feet as a dozen pair of little orange hands sunk into the swelling side of her blue body, all the way from her thigh to her engorged breast, which had taken to using her shirt as a makeshift bra, as they began to roll her so she lay horizontally on her stomach. She spat out her bangs as they rolled her to the juicing room, flapping her hands and squirming incessantly. “And don’t look at my panties!” It was hard not to, considering they dominated a third of her body.

Jessie twitched as a thought popped in her head--a rare phenomenon. “Hold on, I’ll be right back!” Jessie ran off out of sight, and came back minutes later as the oompa loompas pushed Tiffany through the massive double doors into the long corridor leading to the juicing room. “Sorry, I wanted to get one last photo of the testing room.”

Tiffany oozed contempt--or juice. Or both. Likely both, since her shirt was beginning to be stained purple over her nipples.

&&~

Beads of sweat beat down the orange faces of the oompa loompas as they struggled to push Tiffany to the juicing room. It was difficult enough when she was five and a third feet in diameter (her height), but as her blue body blimped to six feet, her enormous mass slowed their progress. You can’t blame them, really. After thirty years of rolling twelve year olds around, you’re not quite prepared for the additional mass, assets, and horomones of teenagers. After only rolling her thirty feet since their last break, the oompa loompas stopped again, gasping for breath. Meanwhile, Jessie snapped another photo of Tiffany, this time laying on her back.

“Oh, this one shows off your curves really good!”

“Mom,” Tiffany growled, “I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop taking pictures and actually help.” Her voice was muffled by her beach ball size breasts, which completely smothered her face.

“‘Tiffy berry’s rounded out nicely! So big and juicy and sexy! Such a cutie pie!’ Winky face, and post!” Jessie looked up from her phone and blew a blue bubble. “Honey, I am helping. Look, you’ve already hit thirty thousand likes! You’re massive--”

“Mom...”

“And look at all of these cute and rich boys who want to be your boyfriend!”

“Mom!” Tiffany flushed violet and flapped her hands. “I already have a boyfriend!”

“Yeah, but not a rich boyfriend.” Jessie squealed, “Ooh! My hand is all purpley!” and took a selfie with lightning speed. “‘Uh oh! I feel funny…’ Winky face, and post!” Just as the oompa loompas were catching their breath, they all looked over at Jessie, whose skin was rapidly changing color as she smacked on a piece of Wonka three course gum. She looked back dumbly. “What?”

All at once, they stood up and shouted, “Fick zis!” before storming off, one shouting a final “Dummkopfs!” before stomping out of sight.

“Mom, what just happened?”

Jessie blinked. “The oompa loompas quit.”

What followed next was a frantic squeal which sounded like a mix between nails on a chalkboard and a loose timing belt. “Oh my God, oh my God, I’m gonna fucking burst I can’t believe it I’m gonna fucking blow up and explode like a giant water balloon because of my stupid fucking mother why do I have to be related to you you stupid--”

This continued for some time.

Finally, once Tiffany ended her tirade (now six inches wider and thirty pounds heavier), Jessie took another selfie, captioning it, ‘Ooh, getting so full! Can’t see my feet anymore!’, and spoke up. “You done?”

“Why-hy-hy-hy?!” Tiffany flailed her hands and feet in despair.

“Because you looked so cute all big and blue like that that I wanted to try it!”

Tiffany was silent as the dumbest thing she ever heard in her eighteen years sunk into her ears like an army man dropped in a bowl of pancake batter. “I’m gonna explode,” she finally muttered.

Jessie moaned and rubbed her swelling belly, which looked about three feet across, as her shirt rose up to her massive chest. “Honey, I feel so sexy like this! Ooh, we just passed hundred thousand! Let’s take a selfie to celebrate!” Her thighs rubbed against each other as she walked to her daughter’s side and began to roll her like a huge snowball.

Between fits of spitting out locks of her golden hair, Tiffany begged her mother to come to her senses and spit out the gum before she grew too big to roll her, let alone move by herself, to the juicing room, all while watching her mother’s blue body swell with juice. As her own body began to make the slightest creaks from stress, she whimpered at the sight of her mother’s titanic thighs rubbing against each other, with a belly that spilled over a screaming pair of jeans shorts while her massive ass tore at the fabric. Jessie stopped directly under an overhead light and rolled her daughter onto her crotch. Their heads were practically level.

Jessie dug out her phone and turned on the front-facing camera. “Say, ‘berries’!”

“I don’t wanna pop!”

Jessie smiled and blew a bubble, making a peace sign before winking to the camera. “Berries!”

“Mom! This isn’t funny!”

Jessie giggled as she typed on her phone, happy that she got the picture in the middle of her daughter’s annoying bleating. That glossy lipstick always caught the light just right! “‘Tiffy’s such a cute bloated berry girl! Round and ready to pop! Can’t wait to join her!’ Winky face, and post!”

“Mom, I am not ready to pop!”

“You are when you’re passing a quarter million likes, honey!” Just then, the button of Jessie’s jeans burst off and the zipper failed spectacularly, causing a sudden rip to tear across the seat of her pants to the waist. Her massive rear took its chance and lunged through the huge gap, splitting seams on her red lace panties and finally destroying her jeans. Jessie shuddered and bit her lip, moaning as her legs buckled inward, and she tumbled backward onto her daughter.

“H-hey!” Tiffany groaned as the sudden weight sloshed the juice inside her. “Argh! Get off me!” Tiffany flailed her little hands in protest as her mother arched her back into her belly. “You’re... crushing me!” As her mother moaned in delight, Tiffany struggled to stay in one piece. Her eyes felt ready to pop out of her head as the juice inside her shifted. The bottom-most button of her blouse burst off and her breasts jiggled in freedom. “M-mom! Stop! Ohh, I’m... gonna--Argh!”

Finally, Jessie stumbled to her feet, blushing violet. “Sorry, sweetie. I guess I lost control there.” With one hand nervously rubbing her neck, the other covered a very large damp stain between her legs. Dribbles of juice seeped through her shirt.

Tiffany gasped for breath as the juice settled and the blood (or juice) rushed from her head. “Now, can you please roll me to the juicing room? Before I explode?!” She frowned and looked at her ruined blouse, which was more or less a curtain over her planetary tits. “Well, at least my skirt’s holding up fine.” Her skirt snapped and fluttered to the floor. Tiffany grumbled, “I wonder what that was…”

“Just one moment, sweetie. Mom needs a few more pictures of her berrying baby before she gets juiced.” Jessie waddled around to Tiffany’s behind with her fat arms resting twenty degrees off her side. It was getting harder to move every second as her limbs fattened and stiffened with juice. Clumsily gripping the elastic, she then tugged on her daughter’s underwear.

Tiffany impulsively responded with an “Eep!” as her underwear dug into her behind, kicking her feet as the overstretched cotton fabric cut into her already tight and sensitive crotch. She blushed deeper and deeper shades of violet as the elastic cut deeper into her waist and her body creaked. “Ow, ow ow ow ow! Ow! Mom! You’re giving me a wedgie!”  

Jessie took another photo, then let go of the elastic, which snapped back to her daughter’s waist. “I just can't help myself, sweetie. Those cute little frills on the border are just so cute! Where did you get these?”

“This isn’t the time!” Tiffany flailed her hands impotently as the seams of her shirt began to burst open as her body struggled to continue it’s unstoppable growth, and the elastic of her panties dug deeper into her skin. “Mom, if you don’t start rolling me soon, you won’t even be able to roll me!” Tiffany’s skin groaned as it was stretched tighter and tighter, and Tiffany groaned in response, “Oh, I feel so tight!”

Jessie’s shirt ripped open and her leaking breasts spilled over her bloated belly like water balloons filled from a tap. “Oh, I know what you mean, honey! I feel so big and juicy,” she moaned as she squeezed her chest, “and so full!” She took another selfie of both of them. "'Tiffy Berry's getting fuller by the second! Ready to burst, and I'm not far behind her!'"

As the cacophony of rips and tears built in frequency and intensity, Tiffany whimpered and gritted her teeth. Juice pooled into her fingers and toes until they were totally rigid. “M-mom?” Her neck vanished into her ballooned body.

Jessie had already begun quietly and carefully backing up, holding her phone out to get Tiffany’s whole body in frame. She pressed record and held her phone as steady as she could. “Yes, sweetie pie?” As she waddled, the inseam of her thighs dropped. Her expanding ass alone was nearly as wide as she was tall.

Tiffany groaned, “I feel really full, like… super full.” Her hands and feet sank into divots in her body. Her voice strained, “I... really want to be juiced. Like, right now. Ohh, I’m so tight!” Finally, her panties ripped apart and fluttered to the floor, though some of the shards remained lodged in her behind. “Ohh-hoh-hoh, I... don’t think I can take… much more! Hah! Haah!”

Jessie stifled a moan as her own skin tightened with every gallon of juice pouring into her body, filling her basketball sized breasts and ballooning behind. “How much bigger do you think you can get, baby?”

“None! I… can’t grow anymore!” Tiffany bit her lip as her head sank into her body. “Ohh, I’m so… full of juice! So t-tight!” Her shirt ripped down its seams and fluttered loosely at her wrists. “I can’t hold... any more juice! I… need to be juiced. Like... right now!” Her body groaned and stretch marks traced across her equator. “Help mm--mmph?! Mmph!” Tiffany’s eyes, wide as saucers, darted frantically as her lips swelled with juice and sealed her mouth shut. Her cheeks puffed out as juice pooled into her mouth. “Mmmph! Mmm mmm!”

Jessie strained to keep her rigid arms facing forward. “I love you, Tiffy! Make your momma proud with a big boom!”

“Mmm?! Mmm mm mmmph mm?!” Tiffany squealed and her eyes shot open as her head sunk down to her nose. “What?! She won’t juice me?!” she thought. Her body groaned angrily and the sensation of blood rushing to her head returned. Tiffany groaned and flushed violet. “Oh God, this is it! Ohh… Ohh no--!” Her body pulsed once, twice, thrice-- Boom!

A torrent of juice smashed into Jessie and knocked her onto her back. She fumbled her phone and barely managed to snag it before it dropped, then deftly stopped the recording and posted it, typing, ‘One last look at my Tiffy Berry! So proud of my beautiful bursting berry girl! Can’t wait to go boom next!’ Jessie sighed in relief and laughed. “We did it, Tiffy! We hit a million likes! Shame you weren’t a good enough blueberry to see it, though.” Jessie took another selfie, with her back on the floor as her blonde hair fanned out in a pool of her daughter’s juice. “‘So proud of my berry baby! We had such a BLAST berrying up for you all, even if Tiffy seemed a little BLUE about it!’”

Jessie took selfie after selfie as her back filled up with juice and her body rounded out to a sphere. The more she grew, the less arm she had for selfies, and her burgeoning wall of blue flesh covered up more of the screen each time. Suddenly, her phone vibrated, which could only mean one thing. “Damn, out of batteries!” Jessie dropped her phone and squirmed, suddenly aimless.

After a few moments, she felt cold metal press against the peak of her belly. Jessie flapped her hands and feet in celebration. “Take that, Tiffy! I’m a bigger berry than you! A better berry! And I’m gonna fill up this whole hallway and level the entire building when I explode!” Jessie cheered herself on as her hands and feet ballooned with juice and sank into her body, followed by her neck and head. Soon, her distended sides pressed into the walls as she continued to grow, creaking and groaning as her limits approached. Her panties snapped, after a long battle with her waistline, and fluttered to the floor, unnoticed. The tension in her skin suddenly spiked, doubling, then trebling as the juice scrambled for more places to fill. Jessie moaned as her lips swelled with juice and her cheeks bulged. All at once, the juice pushed out in every direction, pulling every square inch of her taut skin just beyond its tensile limits. Jessie went cross eyed. “Oh, Ohh God! Yes! I’m gonna… Ohh--!” Her body pulsed again, and again, just before-- Boom!

~&&~

Wonka and the tour group (which was now down to only two) stopped as a rumble ripped through the factory. Before giving them any time to speculate, Wonka pulled out his piccolo and played an ear splitting trill. A small group of oompa loompas goose stepped from nowhere.

“Vhat is your bidding mein-- er, Herr Vonka?”

“Send a cleanup team to the juicing room.”

Wonka tucked the piccolo away as the oompa loompas marched. “Now, where was I? Oh, right! Wonkavision.”