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Claire's Testing - Chapter I
🕑 Added 2021-10-18 18:15:07 +0000 UTCNote: This story contains bizarre, unrealistic and occasionally ridiculous content. It is not suitable for minors. Everyone portrayed in this story is of consenting age.
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*bing-bong*
A doorbell rang in a modest suburban home, and a door was opened by a middle-aged woman with shoulder-length curly hair, dyed brown to hide the her first touches of grey.
Outside stood a man and a woman, both in dark conservative suits, looking almost like government Agents.
“Hello, ma’am, I believe we spoke on the phone? I’m Doctor Jones.” The man said in greeting, congenial but not overly friendly.
“Doctor Mendoza.” The woman added, extending a hand to the housewife.
“Y-yes, hello doctors. You said you want to interview my Claire?”
“That’s right ma’am, may we come in?”
The pair were ushered inside and shown to upholstered chairs in a sitting room. Their host offered coffee which the woman accepted. A few minutes later her daughter appeared.
From the dossier that had prompted this visit and interview, Doctors Jones and Mendoza knew that Claire was 18, having just graduated high school. Their report held several eyewitness accounts of Claire’s breasts growing before the witness’s eyes. The cause seemed to be food related, but aside from the actual growth, the accounts were mere conjecture and speculation.
What was not speculation was Claire’s size, in just a couple dimensions, that is. Claire had dark brown hair, almost black, and was even shorter than her mother, standing no more than 5’1” tall. She wore denim shorts and an oversized light blue button-down shirt.
Claire had a body for clothes in size S, or maybe XS, but her shirt was at least an XL, or possibly 2XL. On any other young woman of her height the shirt would have hung down to obscure her shorts, and in fact it was long enough, being untucked, to cover her entire bottom from behind. The girl’s top was loose in all places except one, and its bagginess could not conceal the volume of Claire’s chest. The blouse had a logo on it for a band or TV show nobody else recognized, and that logo was stretched snug but not tight, pulling extra material upward and revealing Claire’s front almost to the waistband of her shorts.
The young woman bounded into the room with a youthful energy that belied the two extra weights she carried, and extended a hand to each of the scientists in turn. Mendoza suspected the girl was wearing some heavy duty bra hardware, from how little Claire’s chest wobbled. Either that or this was all a scam and Claire had implants, the most likely explanation for breasts the size of cantaloupes to move about as little as B-cups.
At Doctor Jones’ request, Claire’s mom left the room as they began the interview.
“Now Claire, you know who we are and who we represent. Our company is at the forefront of research into cosmetics and cosmetic surgery alternatives. We’ve heard quite a few reports about you and we’ve come to get some more first-hand information.” Mendoza asked. She was taking the lead despite being the younger of the two, while Jones sat quietly taking notes. Claire supposed it was easier to have a woman asking about personal anatomy questions.
“Alright Doctor, what would you like to know?”
“Let’s start with the incident on your 15th birthday.”
***
Claire stared into the middle distance as she began her narrative.
“Ever since I was a little girl, my parents always told me to ‘Claire’ my plate. So, when I turned fifteen, I did. I’m pretty sure it was dad who started saying it as a joke, though it’s supposed to be ‘clean’ your plate… Whatever, dad’s always making lame jokes like that.
“Anyway, we had a party with a bunch of friends from school, and they had all gone home except for my bestie Beth. My family let us go inside to play while they cleaned up the party stuff in the yard, so we decided to sneak some of the leftover cake.
“Beth and I each had a piece, but I was still hungry so I had another one, and another, until the whole cake was gone, and I licked the icing out of the pan. Beth thought it was so cool, she went and got the extra chips and pretzel bags from the pantry, and while I was eating those she heated up some of the leftover hotdogs in the microwave.
“I ate and ate, and Beth just watched and kept bringing me food to see how far I could go. After awhile we checked my tummy to see if it was sticking out or anything, but it was the same as always. Instead it was my chest that was puffing up. Beth was pretty freaked out at that point, but I thought it was cool. I got almost as big as Flora Davis. (She had the biggest boobs in school that year, before I outgrew her.)
“Anyway, after that we hid in my room, playing games and watching TV until she had to go home. From then on whenever I ate too much my boobs would swell up, so even though I was hungry a lot, I tried not to eat too much all at once.
***
“And when did your family find out about your condition?
***
“Well, even though I tried to control what I ate, I was still putting on weight and growing bigger. One of the girls at school, I never found out who, but it was probably that bitch Madison Grey, bribed my brother because she was jealous of my tits and got him to put appetite stimulants in my food.
“We were having Christmas dinner and mom had made twice as much food as we could normally eat. I think maybe she was missing being with all the family that year. Anyway we had all this extra food, Nate and Emily and our parents had all gone to the living room to watch A Christmas Story, so I kept eating.
“That was also the day I learned that it’s basically impossible for me to get full. I was wearing a big baggy green sweater, with a tee shirt underneath. That tee shirt eventually ripped open but the sweater just stretched and stretched. I remember it clearly, because we had ham and mashed potatoes and cornbread and green bean casserole, jello and pudding and three kinds of rolls. I just kept filling my plate and cleaning it again and again. Soon the pans of food started to get empty, and by the time my family was starting Christmas Vacation, the whole table was just empty pans and serving dishes.
“By the time I waddled my way into the living room, my boobs were bigger than basketballs. When I curled up in that chair over there, they almost rested in my lap. They were even bigger than they are now. When mom found out that I’d eaten all the leftovers, she wouldn’t let me have any pie, even though I was still hungry…
Claire got a faraway look in her eyes, and the trio could hear the faint rumbling of a hungry stomach.
***
“Alright, Claire, I think that’s enough questions for now. The next thing we’d like to do is test your claims.”
“Test them? Like how?”
“Well there’s only one way we can think of. We’d like to measure you, then observe you while you eat. You like pizza, right?”
At this, Claire noticed that Doctor Jones had stepped outside to accept delivery of a stack of pizzas. There were six of them, larges. Claire’s eyes glazed over, and she licked her lips.
“Mmhmm…”
“Great, then if you like we can take your measurements in private.”
Clare was staring at the pizza stack. “Oh! Yeah that’s fine, though if you’re gonna let me eat all that pizza I need to take this bra off first.”
The young woman led Doctor Mendoza to a bathroom that looked like it was recently renovated for accessibility, with a wide door and a large shower stall.
“What’s this about your bra?” Mendoza asked.
“Well, you see,” Claire began, reaching behind her back and under her shirt to unfasten something, thrusting her impressive bosom forward and making the scientist’s eyebrows rise. “After awhile my parents found the best way to keep me from overeating was to make me wear these constrictor bras. They also make sure I don’t draw too much attention in public.”
Claire reached under the front of her top and Mendoza heard more clasps and buckles being undone, before Claire pulled a monstrosity of robust fabric and dangling straps out with a sigh. Mendoza almost broke her professional composure as she watched Claires breasts expand before her eyes. Each clasp coming undone was accompanied by a surge of mass into the short girl’s large shirt, swelling into the material and pulling it from snug to tight.
Without the compression bra, Claire’s cantaloupe-sized breasts were now closer to watermelon dimensions, and Mendoza could clearly see the outlines of her nipples. They were relaxed, but even still Mendoza guessed they would be almost the size of her big toe when stimulated.
Claire didn’t miss the look in the doctor’s face.
“Heh, I guess I just proved my parents’ concern about drawing attention. Anyway, you wanted to measure me?”
The doctor regained her professional composure and weighed the young woman, then used a tape measure to record her various dimensions. She was indeed 5’1” tall, and weighed almost 180lbs. This weight was high but Claire was clearly carrying it all in one place. Well, two, because we have to make that joke every time. Her hips measured 35 inches, 25 in the waist, and 33 at the ribcage. At the fullest circumference Claire’s bust measured 41.5 inches, making her a generous H-cup, creeping toward I.
“Well, even if the stomach thing turns out to not be true, you’ve certainly got a record-breaking figure, Claire.”
“Oh it’s true. Let’s go prove it right now.” Claire licked her lips again greedily, and Mendoza could swear the rumbling she heard from the girl’s hungry stomach was making the masses of her breasts vibrate visibly.
Back out in the dining room, Claire wasn’t about to waste this opportunity to prove her condition, and for a brief window of freedom from her mother’s draconian diet restrictions. She bounded over to the table, treat the two doctors to a show of bouncing and wobbling that proved to Mendoza just how tight the girl’s bra had been. Pulling out a chair, the girl’s diminutive height meant that her now braless breasts rested on the table slightly. She pulled the first box toward herself and popped it open immediately.
“I just, go to town on this?”
A nod in the affirmative was all the girl needed. Slice after slice was folded in half and devoured in a few bites. The two scientists watched in fascination as she ate, at first they were sure the girl would choke or at least make herself sick, but by about halfway through the second pizza, they ceased worrying about that and started to notice the changes.
It was hard to be sure at first, but the creases and wrinkles of Claire’s extra large top seemed to be shifting. By the time she finished the third pizza, her breasts had clearly swelled enough to eliminate all the creases across her front. When the fourth was gone, the shirt had gone from snug to tight to now clearly undersized. As the fifth box joined the others in a pile of empties on the floor, and Claire pulled the sixth and final box toward herself, the seams around her sleeves were starting to show threads, the buttons down her front crying out for dear life.
At last the final chunk of crust passed Claire’s pink lips, and with a few chews and a gulp the lump of carbs slid down her throat, and a few tiny rips appeared around her sleeves. The young woman leaned back in her chair, letting her breasts drop off the table where they had been resting, with a deep *FWOMP*. The massive orbs quivered and shuddered, and one of the girl’s buttons shot across the room with a *bang*.
“There, *bwORP* (excuse me) do you believe me now?” Claire rested a hand on the slope of each bloated breast, patting them contentedly and setting them to wobble as much as they could, packed tightly into their cotton prison.
“Well, you could take her measurements again, Doctor Mendoza, but I don’t think you need to. I’ll go speak with the parents.”
Though it took some doing, Doctor Jones succeeded in convincing Claire’s parents to let her participate in their tests. She was legally an adult so they couldn’t have really stopped her anyway, if she accepted. She would accompany them to their lab, deep underground, and he assured them nothing untoward would be done to her. They intended only to feed her varying amounts of normal, safe food, and measure and record how her body reacted. She would of course be compensated for her time, and her family would receive a weekly stipend for their … “discretion.”
Although it was described to them as a surety for their non-disclosure agreement, to protect the valuable cosmetic surgery alternatives they would develop from studying Claire, her parents were secretly thrilled to have some free money, and to have their daughter’s endlessly hungry mouth out of their house for awhile. Jones had noticed in their hallway filled with family photos that Claire’s mother had once been slightly plump, and her father had a bit of a “dad bod” when Claire was a child. As she entered her teen years, the photos showed Claire growing more and more voluptuous, as her parents went from overweight to healthy, to underweight. In the most recent photos everyone looked somewhat emaciated apart from Claire.
***
“So, once we get to the lab, all you want me to do is eat?”
“Well, we’ll be measuring and monitoring you a lot,” Mendoza replied “but mostly, yeah.”
“Oh man this is going to be the best job ever.”
“And don’t forget,” Jones chimed in, “if the doctors are pleased with your participation and the data they get during the five weeks of experiments, at the end you’ll get a feast. As much as you can eat…”
Claire whimpered with almost sexual pleasure at that, caressing her pizza-bloated breasts as visions of buffets she had been banned from danced behind her eyes.
