Eloise's Interview (Extended/Alternate Ending)

My muddle of thoughts was suddenly disturbed by the sound of a nurse furiously stabbing at one of the keys on her terminal. “Oh shit, oh shit!”

The nurse that sat atop the step ladder reading began to look concerned. She hurriedly jumped down, moments before a clackson began to sound. Orange beacons above the doors started to flash, and the cherry picker made for a hasty retreat.

“Pull the tube! Pull the tube!” The most senior of the nurses barked.

“Wha… What's happening?” I murmured timidly, “is she… okay?”

“I'd just stand back if I were you! Well back!”

“Tube pulled!” One of the other nurses shouted, making it sound like a military operation.

“Shit. Shit!”

There was more frantic stabbing of keys. The other nurses began to cautiously back away. At first I didn't understand why, but then as I stared at Eloise’s vast bulk, I could see it. To my disbelief, she was beginning to swell. Gaining in real time. It was slow, almost impossible to tell with her enormity, but it was happening. Mounds and rolls of fat would jiggle playfully as they steadily jostled for room to grow.

Eloise's plump hands wiggled furiously as the fat arms that threatened to swallow them began to make their assault.

The few creases in the enormous underwear that Eloise had been fitted with, began to confirm the suspicions of the onlookers further. Soon they had been pulled tight - stuffed to full capacity, and then some. The criss-cross lacing on the front of the giant panties twanged with tautness. Any remaining elasticity surrendered itself to the cause. The huge fabric panels bulged precariously.

A nurse hurriedly pulled me to the side, encouraging me to crouch with her behind a medical trolley. “Shit!” The nurse whispered hoarsely, “Shit and shit!”

“Wh… What's happening?!” I ventured again.

“She's entered metabolic overload, dammit!”

My panicked, slightly confused expression led the nurse to continue, “Eloise's body is trying to cope with the sheer amount of calories we're pumping into it. It's a delicate balance. Very delicate… And it's been pushed too far. It's a knee jerk reaction - a form of metabolic shock.”

“Will she…?”

“If we're lucky and we caught it soon enough… maybe. If not…”

“If not what?”

I didn't get a response. Instead the nurse began to mutter to herself under her breath, “I told them it was too much. She was gaining fine with the old formula. Steady, but fine! It's never enough though! And who gets the shit for it?! We do…”

The nurses' angered whispers were cut short, and we both jumped as a loud ‘snap’ cracked through the growing tension. One of the lace ribbons adorning the front of the enormous panties had popped under the strain, sending frayed strands fluttering into the air. The rest of the lace held for moments longer, as the fabric behind squeezed through the widening gaps, the love hearts stretched and distended beyond recognition.

There was another snap, then another, the moments in-between peppered with creaks and pops of stitches. Finally, the last piece of lace gave way, its fragments flying forward like the contents of a party popper. The massive, towering belly sloshed forward and took up the fresh slack of those vast pants.

Eloise wasn't slowing down though. She continued to gain fresh pounds of fat that were being stuffed into her already egregiously saturated body. Her inner-thighs quivered and jiggled as they spread. The leg rolls swallowed and engulfed. Buttocks swelled, pulling the fabric to unbearable tension. From my cowering position, I could just make out Eloise’s chubby fingers, wiggling helplessly from within their steadily fattening surrounds of billowing arm flesh.

Everywhere I looked, every inch of her body, she was swelling, stretching, plumping.

The steady soundtrack of creaks and groans that graced the silence, soon began to be peppered with a crossfire of popping stitches, the rate of fire increasing by the minute. The giant briefs swayed and buckled from the pressure within. Seams started to pull apart, allowing brave pockets of flesh to push through. The few remaining nurses that lingered in the darker edges of the lab began their retreat. Then there was just a moment of silence. Perhaps barely one second. And then with a sudden ‘bang’, the overloaded briefs burst, flinging fragments of their remains with surprising force across the room. An enormous piece of pink panel-work, with a fragment of banding that read upon it ‘Anti-Burst’ clattered into our makeshift cover.

“Fuck!” mumbled the nurse, “that's a five-thousand dollar pair of knickers!”

‘Anti-burst’ seemed to be somewhat of an empty promise now. The resulting freedom caused by the underwear failure caused Eloise's vast mounds and rolls of supple fat to surge and spread, jiggling as it competed for space on the inadequate human frame.

“For fucks sake,” grimaced the nurse, “of all the days they decide to let a fucking journalist on a tour, it's today!”

The nurse's grip on my forearm tightened significantly. Suddenly I was aware that we were the only two left in the laboratory, other than the ballooning bulk of Eloise.

And balloon she did. The wobbles and jostles of her growing body became more fraught, more urgent. Swelling significantly faster by the minute, I was simply frozen in shock as Eloise piled on devastating amounts of weight before my eyes. I couldn't look away. I couldn't move. Maybe this was how Eloise felt?

Then the tight grip on my arm became an aggressive pull, yanking me to my trembling feet. The nurse threw me towards the doors, her own panic rising. I took just one glance back; with it, I could just catch sight of the very tips of Eloise's fingers as they sank into deepening, fleshy caverns.