Campus Pigs Chapter 13 (Re-upload)

Hi everybody! So I uploaded chapter 13 of Campus Pigs last night, but this morning I woke up to a notification from Patreon informing me it was reported for sexual content and taken down. To whomever reported the chapter, I do have to admit I can't quite discern your motivations (like, whatsoever lol), but please know that my account is 18+ and therefore sexual content is totally acceptable:) On top of that, I was particularly confused because this chapter doesn't even have any explicit sexual content lmao, but regardless. I genuinely believe it was just an accident because no other explanation really makes sense lol, so hopefully this stays up!

Lindsey blinked to wakefulness, cognizant of the throbbing pressure in her middle before she was even fully aware she’d been sleeping. Abigail had been more than true to her threat the previous night, mercilessly stuffing Lindsey with the bakeries' worth of the pastries Courtney had been whipping up the past few days until Lindsey was left beached, gasping and begging for a respite. 

She was almost too full to breathe, a phenomenon that had occurred only once over the course of the indulgent week so far, and as she felt her food-swollen middle press against her lungs, her airflow quite literally restricted by the gluttony that had been unwillingly forced upon her, all she could think about was the picture she’d seen of Phobe. 

The photograph was driving her wild, even in the midst of being stuffed so side-splittingly full that she genuinely believed she might burst, and it wasn't for the exact same reasons that Phoebe's old figure had Abigail so worked up. Of course the girl's unrecognizably fattened face represented a major challenge for Phi Lambda, an obstacle that was already breaking their ranks and pitting them against each other in anger, but for Lindsey, the clearly pillow-soft blubber coating Phoebe's past body was more than a reminder of her competition. It was a reminder of her future. 

Even if what Courtney had said was true, even if the majority of what Lindsey had put on in that single week of impossible gluttony was really water weight, thermodynamics doesn’t lie. Calories in vs calories out was a very simple equation, and Lindsey was more than aware of just how many calories were going in. With the amount she was eating, really the amount that was being all but crammed down her throat by all the other girls in the house, she was packing on a pound a day. Not a pound of water weight or a pound of bloat. A full pound of jiggling new fat, every single day. 

There were inevitabilities with that kind of consistency. In a month, she’ll have gained 30 pounds. There was no way around that, no avenue she could take to circumvent the seemingly destined process that fate had befallen her. She would look like Phoebe soon enough. That's what concerned her, what was making her flashback to the pictures she’d seen of Tammy and Tiffany. Looking at the before and afters of former pigs was like prophetic horror for Lindsey, and although she was morbidly curious, although she couldn't manage to look away when Tammy's bloated visage was tearing through another burger on the screen, she hated the sight of those porked up unfortunates. And the more she saw, the deeper reality sunk in. She would be the after-picture. And not some obscure day in the future, but soon. 

Phoebe had seemed to slim down with no problem, although Lindsey technically couldn't be certain of that, but the speed with which she was blimping back up only served to intensify Lindsey's already pressing fears. Even if she managed to lose the weight like Phoebe did, like Tammy did, she’ll clearly have to stay on her toes for the rest of her life to avoid slipping back into her old habits and her old sizes. It was happening for Phoebe with almost no effort. All she had to do was let go a little, and all that greed, all that piggish devotion to the next meal, it all came flooding back in a rush. 

As terrified as Lindsey was by the thought of her new diet morphing into her regular eating habits, slowing becoming nothing more than a typical craving, a greasy, fattening instinct to be fulfilled, it didn't stop the near urgent hunger that flared in her the moments she rubbed the bleariness from her eyes. 

She sighed, her hand dropping down to her tender, protruding belly still swollen into a firm ball from Abigail's feeding the night before. She winced at the touch, her gut still tight enough to be painful even after a full night's sleep, and sighed, wishing she could ignore the hunger building within her despite her uncomfortability. 

Her shirt, and presumably her face, were still smeared with remnants of eclair chocolate from Abigail's aggressive insistence the night before, and Lindsey almost winced again at the memory; Abigail’s face contorted in outrage above her, shoving more into Lindsey's overstuffed maw as she moaned with a mouth so full she couldn't even close her lips. She must've blown her old calorie record out of the water, and as she stirred, attempting to move slowly in an effort to leave the contents of her overpacked belly jostled, she realized that fact could be used to her advantage. 

Abigail likely wouldn’t be feeding her today, would probably spend the day recovering from the previous night’s outburst and yelling at Ellie as a surrogate source of emotional relief, which meant Courtney would be largely in charge of Lindsey's meals and calories. Courtney, who Lindsey was beginning to feel more and more partial towards, would be reasonable. She’d have to be, she saw firsthand what Abigail had put Lindsey through. Knowing that Lindsey had obviously exceeded her caloric goals by thousands in her final meal alone (a meal, to her chagrin, that was capped off with a weight gain shake as always) meant that Courtney would likely be amenable to Lindsey's suggestion for a lighter breakfast. Calories were calories, and as long as the overall numbers were hit, why couldn't she get a bit of a break for all her hard work last night?

Lindsey finally set her feet on the floor, already shaking her head at the flaws in her own logic. She knew better. She knew that Courtney wouldn't dare chance angering Abagail, especially after last night. It was like the first night, that first out-of-control stuffing when that telltale unhinged look clouded Abigail's eyes and seemed to control her hands, but this time, she’d been furious. Her fury, her passion, her determination to succeed, all of it resulted in a campus pig contestant too bloated to waddle back to her room without the assistance of two of her sisters.  

Lindsey bumbled her way through a quick morning routine, her caloric responsibility and growing laziness taking precedence over the 10-step skincare routine she used to boast, and lumbered slowly into the kitchen, already smelling the bacon. 

“Oh hey,” Courtney greeted with a quick smile over her shoulder, her attention affixed to the spattering skillet crammed with bacon she was tending to. “Your breakfast is almost ready.” 

Lindsey frowned, noticing the collection of grease-soaked paper bags in the center of the kitchen island a beat after she should’ve. 

“Did you order something?” she asked groggily, still exhausted from both the eating contest and the extracurricular activities Abigail had set up for her immediately afterwards. “Why are you cooking?”

“Oh, I…sorry,” Courtney offered sheepishly. “I woke up late and I knew you’d need breakfast on time if we were gonna be on track so I just placed an order because-”

“No, no,” Lindsey interrupted, cutting off Courtney's over-explanation. “No, you don't need to apologize, I’m just confused. Why are you cooking if you ordered food?”

“Oh!” Courtney chirped, her eyes lighting up a bit at both the lack of tension and the question. “That. Well, I had this great idea last night, while…um. You know. While Abby was feeding you.” 

Lindsey rolled her eyes, almost wanting to check left and right to make certain that Abigail was within earshot. 

“What?” she sighed. “What did she say?”

“Right, how would you even remember?” Courtney acknowledged. “God, I bet getting stuffed like that is almost like blacking out, huh?”

“Actually yea,” Lindsey agreed, surprised at the sudden apt comparison. “Yea, exactly like that. You just get to a point where you gotta disconnect from your body or you can't even take it. Then you wake up covered in food and fat enough to look pregnant.”

She watched as Courtney's eyes flicked down to her stomach for a split second, grateful she’d had the presence of mind to throw on a loose t-shirt and disguise just how far the swell of her overfull little tummy was protruding forward. 

“That’s crazy,” Courtney murmured almost distractedly, her gaze a bit unfocused. “Oh!” she yelped, turning back around for the forgotten skillet. “Perfectly crispy.”

“Wait, yea, you never answered my question,” Lindsey reminded her. “What's with the bacon, you guys always get bacon when you make a breakfast order for me.”

“Well, that bacons for eating,” Courtney informed her, grabbing the crisped pieces of pork with a pair of tongs and setting them directly on a ceramic plate, the health conscious need to drain the grease rendered entirely moot with Lindsey's goals of packing on weight as quickly as possible. “But last night, when Abby was uh.. in that mood. She said that she was gonna make you so fat strangers would assume you drink pig lard.”

“She said that?” Lindsey replied incredulously. “God she’s so… I mean, just. God.”

“Yea,” Courtney acknowledged. “But it gave me an idea. We’ve been using plain condiments for you, for all the pigs before you too, but I realized that all we need to do is start topping everything you eat with a layer of bacon grease, it’ll make the calories add up even more quickly.”

“But- but I'm already on the meal plan,” Lindsey protested, panic setting in as she watched Courtney pour the still-hot bacon grease into a glass mason jar. 

“Yea, but…you know. Phoebe?” Courtney prompted. “This isn't gonna be like other years. It's not gonna be enough to just gain. You really…I mean, this is gonna sound cringey, ok? But you really have to pig out. You have to become more of a glutton than basically any Phi Lambda pig before you, it's the only way you can win. Phoebe isn't even trying. She's gonna keep piling on weight like this without trying, and that means you have to, you know. Try.

Lindsey took a step back, disappointment settling within her at the reminder that at the end of the day, Courtney wasn't really her friend. Courtney may like her, may support her and be kind to her, but Courtney was the Phi Lambda treasurer before anything, and that meant she’d choose winning over helping Lindsey every time. 

“Yea, yea,” Lindsey agreed distractedly. “It's fine.”

“Sorry,” Courtney mumbled, dejected at Lindsey's dejection. “I'm sorry I just…I'm gonna pour it on your pancakes, ok?”

Lindsey nodded, tired of talk, and sat in the middle island chair, tearing into the multitude of bags to arrange her ketchup and syrup dipping stations the way she liked. She didn't even bother bringing up the excess calories she’d eaten the night before in a bid to reduce her intake that morning, and although she told herself that it was because Courtney wouldn't care, in all actuality, her hunger was mounting. Just the smell of the salty, fragrant bacon had driven her over the edge, and she sat down and dug in like she hadn't eaten in days. 

Courtney watched her for a moment, pouring the mason jar of bacon grease over her pancake as soon as Lindsey had them open, then stepped back, seemingly aware that Lindsey's appetite for conversation was as dismal as her appetite for fatty food was overwhelming. They sat in a not quite uncomfortable slice only punctuated by Lindsey slurps, chews, and burps, and as she rolled a syrup and bacon grease-soaked pancake and pressed it into her mouth with a single bite, she begrudgingly admitted that the flavor of the pig lard made her already butter coated pancakes absolutely delicious. The more she choked down, speeding through each pancake as if in a race, the more she realized she’d never be able to scarf another golden disc without those layers of slick, fattening oil. She was beginning to feel that way about many of the recurring feasts she was having despite her very recent introduction to gluttony of this caliber, and it only allowed her worries about the future to grow. Would she be able to give up this lifestyle when it was time to slim back down? Most campus pigs couldn't, so what made her so different?

She was making her way through her meal quickly, lost in her thoughts as Courtney busied herself by picking at her cuticles, when the doorbell rang. Courtney’s head shot up, confusion etching her face. No regular at the house would ever ring the doorbell, and in all practically, no student would either. No one that the girls knew would be dumb enough to show up to the house unannounced, especially with the possibility of angering the ever-volatile Abigail, and a quick ‘im outside’ text is the most any of the girls would expect from a visitor, friend, or love interest. This meant that the only people with reason to both visit the house and ring the bell were often either campus administration staff or maintenance, a surprise visit from either never a good sign. 

“Nobody has in any requests,” Courtney whispered to Lindsey as if the potential entrant could somehow hear. 

She scurried off down the hall, nervousness in her posture, and Lindsey angled herself towards the door, her interest piquing. After the previous night she was frankly expecting the worst, and wondered if Abigail had somehow arranged or purchased something designed to increase Lindsey's intake and multiply her suffering. 

Lindsey heard the squeak of Courtney's voice, her tone odd and uncertain, and before she could even wipe the excess syrup off her mouth she heard feet marching proposedly down the hall. She spun back towards her meal, wondering desperately if she had time to run away, when a familiar, raspy chuckle eased out from behind her. 

“Campus pig, huh?” Coach Morgan's perpetually commanding voice boomed. “Of course.”

Lindsey turned slowly, horror chilling her to her bones, to find the smirking face of her short-haired, six-pack sporting coach, a natural born leader who boasted the intensity and drive to mold her players into finely honed stars but lacked the tact to speak to them with any degree of sensitivity. 

“Damn, look at you. Already swelling up.”

Lindsey touched her stomach as her horror compounded, the idea that her coach could immediately discern the new weight somehow more distressing than the confrontation in the first place. 

“I knew something like this had to have happened,” Coach Morgan opinioned, looking around at the scene in the kitchen with an air of light disgust. “This happens once every few years. I lose good players to this stupid fattening contest, it's idiotic. C’mon Lindsey, really?” Coach Morgan asked, gesturing to the syrup-dripping piece of bacon still clutched in her frozen hand. “Really? This is what you wanna be doing? This is what you want for yourself? To waddle around campus sucking on an iv bag filled with pudding? C'mon. You’re an athlete, Lindsey, you have real talent. You don't need to be doing this to yourself.”

Coach Morgan smiled pityingly at Lindsey's stunned silence, placing a hand on Courtney’s shoulder without breaking Lindsey's eye contact. 

“Go ahead and give us the room, yea kid?” she asked authoritatively. “I gotta have a little private conversation with your campus pig before it's too late.”