She twirled some pasta on her fork, then added a bit more. One night of bad behavior wouldn't kill her. Besides, it's not like anyone was watching her.
But that wasn't entirely true. A few people here and there had been stealing occasional peeks as she wolfed her food down. It was a sight to see, a petite woman like Julie eating so fast, with such passion. She suppressed an urge to smile at the onlookers again as she ate another bite. At five-five and barely a buck-ten, it hardly seemed possible that she was able to eat that much already, let alone eat more. But she felt good so far, like she could keep eating all night. It made her feel special to eat like this, to defy the expectations of those around her.
Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, ounce by ounce, Julie began to change. Her brown hair grew longer, past her shoulders. Her tits swelled bigger with every mouthful, and her pants started to show off her ankles. Julie saw and did not see these changes. She idly ate now, savoring less, and reminisced on her wish tonight. Oh, to be famous, an actress or a model! But the idea was laughable. She would need to grow a half a foot and two or three cup sizes, and then what? She would look like all the rest of the women in the magazines and movies, cookie-cutter bimbos with plastic boobs and suctioned cellulite.
No, she thought, to be famous, I would have to be something special.
She ate faster, her head bent over the bowl. Her bra now fit her, and her toes felt tight in her shoes. Her sweater crept off of her waistband. Her pants drew tighter across her backside as her butt began to grow, as well. Her chair squeaked.
I would have to get people's attention.
Julie hazarded a glance down at the bowl and immediately dropped her fork. Her chest was now encroaching on her view. It hadn't been a trick of the light.
Her tits were getting bigger.
And as she watched, as she chewed her last bite and swallowed, she saw it happen. Slowly, subtly, the tick of her heartbeat pumped her now-B boobs up and out, up and out. Now focused on it, in fact, she could feel them grow, actually feel the skin stretch and weight on her chest increase.
A grin, wide and excited, crept across her face. Was it the shooting star? The pasta? Some freak occurrence? It didn't matter. What did matter was that, somehow, she was getting the body she always wanted by eating her favorite food. She picked up her fork and scooped up a huge lump.
A sigh escaped her lips as she felt her breasts inflate again. The under-wire bra held on as flesh filled it to the brim. It felt fantastic, indecent. She looked down to appraise her effort. A half-cup or so. And there was more where that came from. So much more.
But that wasn't entirely true. A few people here and there had been stealing occasional peeks as she wolfed her food down. It was a sight to see, a petite woman like Julie eating so fast, with such passion. She suppressed an urge to smile at the onlookers again as she ate another bite. At five-five and barely a buck-ten, it hardly seemed possible that she was able to eat that much already, let alone eat more. But she felt good so far, like she could keep eating all night. It made her feel special to eat like this, to defy the expectations of those around her.
Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, ounce by ounce, Julie began to change. Her brown hair grew longer, past her shoulders. Her tits swelled bigger with every mouthful, and her pants started to show off her ankles. Julie saw and did not see these changes. She idly ate now, savoring less, and reminisced on her wish tonight. Oh, to be famous, an actress or a model! But the idea was laughable. She would need to grow a half a foot and two or three cup sizes, and then what? She would look like all the rest of the women in the magazines and movies, cookie-cutter bimbos with plastic boobs and suctioned cellulite.
No, she thought, to be famous, I would have to be something special.
She ate faster, her head bent over the bowl. Her bra now fit her, and her toes felt tight in her shoes. Her sweater crept off of her waistband. Her pants drew tighter across her backside as her butt began to grow, as well. Her chair squeaked.
I would have to get people's attention.
Julie hazarded a glance down at the bowl and immediately dropped her fork. Her chest was now encroaching on her view. It hadn't been a trick of the light.
Her tits were getting bigger.
And as she watched, as she chewed her last bite and swallowed, she saw it happen. Slowly, subtly, the tick of her heartbeat pumped her now-B boobs up and out, up and out. Now focused on it, in fact, she could feel them grow, actually feel the skin stretch and weight on her chest increase.
A grin, wide and excited, crept across her face. Was it the shooting star? The pasta? Some freak occurrence? It didn't matter. What did matter was that, somehow, she was getting the body she always wanted by eating her favorite food. She picked up her fork and scooped up a huge lump.
A sigh escaped her lips as she felt her breasts inflate again. The under-wire bra held on as flesh filled it to the brim. It felt fantastic, indecent. She looked down to appraise her effort. A half-cup or so. And there was more where that came from. So much more.
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June 9, 2023
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