Candy

Candy was a beautiful woman. With a trim frame, elegant locks of black hair, dark eyes, and a strong, if angular, facial structure, she was not only every man’s ideal arm candy, she was also clever, witty, and knew how to read a person well. It helped when choosing dates or shooting down the stereotypical ideals of those who assumed that a girl could not be beautiful and intelligent.

But, for all her intelligence, she had trouble remembering why she was on a date with Chad. For one thing, she was well aware that he was odd. He dressed well, but it was easy to see that he was no knight in shining armor when he never remembered to iron his shirt. He had a goofy sort of smile, and all the good looks in the world could not make up for the way that he would stop and just stare at things. Trees, cars, people, it didn’t matter. He would stare, unblinking, for minutes on end at anything.

Which was exactly what he did to Candy as she finished the last few bites of a vanilla sundae with blueberry syrup sprinkles over the top. She dropped the spoon back in the glass bowl and sighed, glancing out the restaurant window immediately to her right. Typical that Chad would insist upon a window seat. It made staring so much easier.

“How did you enjoy your sundae?” he asked in a cultured voice. Perhaps his voice had been what had lured her in three dates in a row.

“It was delicious, thank you for ordering it,” she replied politely, removing her napkin from her stretchy black pants and dabbing her lips with it. Logically, she was averse to Chad but… he could be sweet. Ordering her that sundae, for example, when she’d gone and worn a black tank top and black pants on a sweltering day like this.

“Would you like anything else?” he offered.

“No, no, really. After that lunch, I wasn’t even sure I could handle any ice cream, but I managed somehow.”

She laughed. He laughed. All was good. Of course, Candy wouldn’t reveal it, but she was impossibly full. She shifted around in her seat, the polite smile never leaving her face. She oughtn’t have had so many roles before their food had arrived… Chad said nothing. He only stared. Candy shifted again, the full feeling growing worse. She desperately needed to walk this off.

“What time is it?” she muttered, and went to glance at her watch.

Whatever time it was, Candy never noticed. All she could see was bright, sapphire skin glowing all along her arm. She sucked in a breath and threw a glare at Chad. He only stared.

Of course, she should have seen it coming. She’d learned long ago about his mysterious job at the candy company and what he did (yet another reason she couldn’t believe she was still going out with him). But to do it to her? On a date? In public?

This was a new low.

“You jerk!” she growled, clenching her arm rests. Chad shrugged and cocked his head to one side.

The full feeling increased, and now that Candy knew what it was, she was filled with less awkwardness and more anxiety. Whatever happened to those people at the candy company after… after…

Her flat stomach rolled forward gently, pulling her tank top with it. Candy bit her lip and pressed her hands tightly against it, hoping to somehow temper the flow. But no. The bloating belly only distended further, spreading her fingers apart. She didn’t have long to ponder it, though, for her hips suddenly began to widen. Candy squeaked as she suddenly began to rise, little by little, in her chair.

Her belly began to poke out at the bottom of her tank top, bright sapphire against black. Her hips swelled, now beginning to press into the narrow arm rests. Outside, several pedestrians had paused to stare in awe at the enlarging woman in the window. In her faint reflection, she also noted that her angular face had softened just a bit. Candy turned away, flushing indigo in embarrassment. She wanted to run away, far away, but what could she possibly do? She knew perfectly well that sooner or later, she would lose the ability to walk and Chad would catch up with her. And at least if she stayed here, she could feel fairly certain that Chad would make sure nothing ELSE unseemly happened to her, right?

Right?

She glanced nervously up at Chad, swallowing as she began to tighten into her seat, which had sunk several inches.

“You might want to get up,” Chad said lazily. “That stuff you’re filling with is pretty dense. It weighs more than you know. I doubt the poor chair could handle you much longer.”

As he said it, Candy’s black tank top swept up her now extremely pregnant-looking belly and wedged itself under her breasts which were… Egads, those were growing, too!

Loathe as she was to listen to her date right now, Candy decided that yes, it probably was a good idea to get out of the chair. She pushed against the arm rests and tried to stand… but her hips were too deeply caught in the arm rests. She grunted and tried again, but every try grew more difficult as her fattening body grew heavier. Her thighs were swelling now, as well.

She threw Chad a ‘help-me!’ look, but he only shrugged.

Candy huffed and settled back into the chair awkwardly. Though she’d seen it coming, it was hard to believe. She looked like a pregnant woman either just a bit over term or carrying a very fat baby. Her once small chest was now large and voluptuous, matching the suggestion of her stomach. Her thighs were beginning to press tightly together, supporting her growing girth and all the while, her hips were firmly stuck in the arm handles of a creaking, groaning chair. Which was growing louder. And louder.

CRASH!

Candy collapsed on her stomach in a tremendous heap. Thick liquid sloshed inside of her painfully. She flailed her thickening legs and struggled to push against the floor, but her stomach had now grown so large that she simply couldn’t push down enough. Briefly, she contemplated rolling onto her back, but there was no telling what this would do to her spine.

As she flailed, she noticed something new. Her arms were jiggling just a little bit. Perfect.

Just then, a strong arm caught her hand and began to pull her up. Candy grunted and scrabbled to land her feet on the floor until, at last, she had her balance back. Chad stared at her as always, though there was a very faint smile on his face, now.

“Not much to see with you flailing around like that,” he remarked pleasantly.

Candy gaped at him for several moments. Her breasts, barely concealed by her ultra-stretchy bra, sat light enormous mounds atop her now impossibly massive, taut, round stomach, which was now beginning to droop at the bottom. Her backside, hips, and thighs, were stuffed inside her once loose pants, which were now beginning to strain to hold her widening girth. Her arms thickened, slowly pushing upwards as her sides flared out. In actuality, she looked like a rather chubby woman pregnant with twins. Her heart lurched. She really was becoming a human blueberry, and Chad was just smiling.

Candy slapped him as hard as she could which, with the momentum of the thick, heavy substance inside of her, was considerable.

“Excuse me, miss?” A mousy-looking waiter murmured to her side. Candy glanced over at him. Odd, how he could look so small when he was little taller than she was. “Um, I thought that maybe you would, ah, like to be… well, somewhere private and, erm… my manager, he said we have a large private room with no, ah, tables in it. I-if you like.”

“Oh… thank you, yes,” Candy replied, her manners kicking in immediately. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around her stomach, fighting to hold it in so she could walk. Casting one final glare at Chad, she waddled after the waiter. Every table along the way parted for her, and for that Candy was grateful.

Her thighs thickened with every step, now rubbing tightly against each other. Her stomach continued to fill and swell, expanding ever so slightly over and under her arms. It became increasingly difficult to hold the belly where it was as her arms fattened, and she wanted nothing more than to drop her belly and let them stick out turgidly. But she had to keep walking, had to get to that private room. But movement was becoming more difficult as her back swelled out and her legs grew cone like. She groaned under her breath. This was beginning to hurt.

The waiter nervously opened the double doors to the private room and Candy waddled in as swiftly as she could. The moment she was in the middle, he shut the doors and she released her stomach. Immediately, her arms sprang out and stuck like fat cones sixty degrees to her body. Her belly dropped and, for a moment, she feared she would lose her balance. But she soon righted herself. There was nothing to do not but wait, and that wouldn’t be long.

Already, her form was little more than a large, slightly misshapen sphere. Her breasts were assimilating, and her arms were slowly being sucked in along with her legs.

With a series of snaps, her stretchy pants shredded and, with a bang, her tank top did, too. Oh well. That’s why she was in a private room.

She stared down at her bloating frame with morbid fascination as it swelled steadily outward, rather like a balloon, but far too heavy. She wanted to assume it was blueberry juice she was filling with, but it was too viscous, whatever it was.

Experimentally, Candy poked her side with her swollen fingers. There wasn’t much give, but there was some.

Just as her arms and legs had nearly been eaten down to her wrists and ankles, the door opened and closed. Candy stared, wide eyed with irritation, as Chad wandered in, rubbing his very red cheek. He looked her up and down and nodded appreciatively.

“Nice,” he remarked. “You’re rounding very well.”

“You jerk,” Candy growled. “What’s the big idea, doing this to me? Your date!”

He stared at her, his eyes still even, and shrugged.

“Your name’s Candy,” he replied. “This is what my candy company does to obtain ingredients. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“A good idea at the-“ she fumbled. Had her fingers not swollen into immobile sausages during their talk, she would have clenched them. As it was, she angrily slapped them against her sides.

Chad grinned and poked her stomach. Candy groaned in discomfort.

“Stop that,” she scolded. “It hurts.”

“And spoil my fun? No.”

He placed his palms against her and marveled as she swelled against him. Candy yelped as she felt her feet leave the floor, but Chad seemed only pleased. Unceremoniously, he tilted her onto her back.

“Let’s practice getting you to the factory,” he said teasingly.

“No! Chad, don’t you dare!”

But Chad shoved, and Candy went rolling across the wood floor, her world spinning. Chad caught her by the taut remains of her bra and set her upright again. She now sat just a few inches taller than him. He grinned, pushing her again, this time using the bra to pull himself onto her back as she rolled onto her stomach. Candy glared at the floor as he carefully stood and rolled her like a log until he sat on what had once been a belly button. Candy continued to swell, but even she could tell she was running out of room. Her globe like body pressed against her jaw, her cheeks grew pudgy, blocking some of her vision, and her lips plumped. Chad sat atop her, a pleasant expression on his face, as though the feeling on her swelling under him and his rising into the air was little more than a pleasant ride.

At last, and against all odds, it stopped.

“Well, that was fun,” Chad quipped, reaching into his pocket.

“Jerk.” Candy spat.

“Yes, yes, I know. But you must admit, it wasn’t mundane.” He pulled two items from his coat pocket. A spoon and a small, blue bottle. “Now for the big reveal. You will not pop, my dear. Your skin is more like putty than elastic. No, that’s not the right term. At any rate, it won’t pop if you land on something sharp or if you grow too large. If you must know, you’re filling with blueberry syrup. It’s a new product and I thought you were the perfect host for the first batch.”

Candy growled.

“I know, I know, I should have asked first. But this was more fun. Yes, you’ll be juiced soon. As long as it’s within forty-eight hours, you’re right as rain. After that, it’s unsafe to juice because of… unpleasant things done to one’s insides. Then you really would be a giant, sentient blueberry. But your organs aren’t going to liquefy in the few hours it takes the team to get here. What?” he leaned forward, meeting her eyes. “You didn’t think I’d let you be a blueberry forever! No, the fun part is the transformation, and if you’re willing, I’d love to see you transform again and again. But for now, you didn’t fill up as much as I’d hoped. You didn’t eat all your ice cream, so there’s quite a bit of room left in you. But, for the sake of not outgrowing this room or forcing me to climb down, let’s say we settle for one spoonful, eh?”

Candy’s swollen eyes widened as Chad poured a spoonful of thick, blue liquid. He leaned forward and forced her fat lips open, gently tipping the syrup inside. Candy tried to choke it out, but her face was too swollen and gravity was no help. She swallowed with a grimace.

“Don’t worry,” Chad assured her. “That pretty face of yours won’t swell much more, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Candy couldn’t confirm or deny it. She was too overcome by the strange feeling inside of her as syrup began to rumble. Slowly, she began to swell again. Her long hair, which had been sweeping the ground, left it, and Chad grew farther and farther away, still seated on her belly button, still grinning, and still staring.