Campus Pigs-Chapter 11

Lindsey fought the urge to drop her head to the crumb-covered table in defeat, finally beginning to feel the pangs of overfullness she'd been able to ignore as she’d stuffed herself during the challenge. She burped again, covering her mouth and flushing lightly as if she weren't surrounded by other students whose faces were smeared in icing just like hers was, and shrank down in her chair, realizing as if for the first time that everyone in the room had been present for her gluttonous, yet somehow still insufficient, display. 

The humiliation of the pig out combined with the loss felt doubly compounded, and Lindsey cringed as she imagined the perspective of the audience, imagined watching her make a total pig of herself and still fail to take home first place. She looked back towards where the house was clustered around Abigail, their faces all filled with the same questions that she had, winced as she caught Abigail's furious eye. 

The members of Omega Pi were all crowded around Phoebe and slightly obscuring her from Lindsey’s view, but Lindsey could see enough of the girl, who was leaning back in her chair with both hands resting on her pastry-swollen gut, to finally acknowledge that her fellow competitor's grand entrance was anything but exaggerated. The bugle of her belly looked even larger, undoubtedly both from her reclined angle and from the amount she’d just stuffed into it, and her shirt had ridden up further to reveal a small sliver of pudgy flesh peaking through directly above her waistband, confirming undoubtedly that she hadn't used any sort of tricks or padding to create the plumped up effect that had shocked the crowd. That fact had become more than evident with her performance in the cake-eating contest, but Lindsey had still somehow held out some small hope that Phoebe wasn't as big as she’d looked, that the impossible-seeming gain was, in fact, impossible.

“Omega Pi wins the first challenge!” the MC called, the interruption doing little to quiet the clamor of overlapping voices from the crowd. Lindsey turned towards the tinny sound, eager to escape Abigail's eye contact and desperation for a napkin to wipe off her face, to remove the smeared evidence of her wasted efforts. 

“Omega Pi, off the stage please,” the mc, instructed playfully, making a scooching gesture with her free hand. “Off the stage, you guys know we aren't finished.”

The girls filed away with reluctance, still chattering amongst each other, and Lindsey wrinkled her nose as she realized Megan was among them, the last to leave the overstuffed phoebe's side. The president of another sorority, a rival sorority considering they were all technically in competition with each other, should have no business congratulating her opponents for a win like that, no business grinning from ear to ear at her own house's loss. 

Lindsey cocked her head, considering. Abigail's paranoia actually had a basis in reality, that much was obvious, but in what way? Megan was up to something, and Lindsey hoped that the steel-edged investigation that Abigail had promised would take place would reveal what exactly that was. And more importantly, how to combat it. 

“It’s time,” the MC called with grandeur, drawing out her words. “For this year's very first weigh-in!”

There was a smattering of unfocused applause, each little group still locked into conversation with one another that undoubtedly centered around the now pudgy phoebe's performance, and the MC rolled her eyes, Lindsey apparently the only one truly paying any attention to what she’d been saying. 

“Weigh-in time,” the mc repeated. “C’mon guys, lets get through this so we can get to the actual party, yea?”

The outside conversations quieted without stalling and the MC shrugged, clearly deciding that a reduction in volume was good enough for the time being. 

“We’re gonna weigh all our pigs, see how much everybody has gained, and see who wins this week's weigh-in! Remember, the contest winner is not the same as the weigh-in winner, but…” the MC paused, her grin begetting some giggles. “I’m sure this week it is.”

Lindsey pressed her eyes shut, wishing to be anywhere but there, anyone but who she was. Her first quantitative confrontation of what she was doing to herself. Of what her sisters were doing to her. She’d spent so much time and energy dreading the first contest, praying that she wouldn't have to display her puffy, quickly expanding body for all to see, that she’d failed to spend any time considering the humiliation of the first weigh-in in front of everyone. All her peers, all her sisters, all the boys she knew. Her first hard evidence that she was gaining weight, that she would continue to gain weight throughout this entire process until she was fat. Until she began to see numbers she’d never even considered a possibility for herself. 

Her weight had already been higher than she’d expected at the first weigh-in, although seeing the scale hit 140 was likely due in part to how full she’d been from the pizza and alcohol she’d taken down before being weighed in a state of such drunkenness she’d blacked out, and given that she was far more used to weighing in the 135-137 range, Abigail and Courtney had noted 135 number as their true basis.

“It's going to be a lot,” Courtney had warned a few days ago while Lindsey glutted herself on yet another fast food lunch. “That first weigh in. It's gonna seem like a big jump, like you’ve gained an insane amount all at once. But remember, a lot of it is water weight.”

Lindsey had nodded, miserably forcing another handful of fries into her mouth and chewing heavily. 

“Your body isn't used to eating like this, and between the water weight, the sodium retention, and the actual fat you’ve gained, the number will probably be pretty jarring. Don’t let it intimidate you. Whatever the scale says, I’m making sure you’re right on track.”

‘I’ll still be getting fat,” Lindsey had grumbled back combatively through a mouthful of fries. 

Courtney had nodded understandingly, empathy filling her eyes. 

“Yea,” she said, briefly placing a hand on Lindsey's grease-coated one. “But, at least for the first weigh-in, not as fat as you think.”

Those words bounced around Linsey's mind as the large white medical scale with a black pad was wheeled into the room, a relic from one of the very first campus pig competitions that had become a symbol of the contest in its own right. Countless growing students had been the victim of its ominous sliding beams indicating their unwieldy growth, and Lindsey was set to join their ranks. 

She felt bilious panic rising in her once more and her stomach began to hurt even worse, the overfullness and the nerves twisting themselves into knots within her and making her feel a sensation that bordered on nausea for the first time since she began stuffing herself without abandon the week before. 

“Let’s start at this end,” the MC decided, pointing to Lindsey's left towards the far side of the contestants lined up at the front of the room, the ‘stage’ she’d chided Omega Pi for crowding less a physical one and more one of proximity. 

Lindsey felt the muscles around her shoulder relax slightly with relief at the realization that she would be among the last contestants to be weighed, but tensed again once she recognized that meant the agony of waiting, that she wouldn't be free of the ordeal until almost everyone else already had their weight recorded. 

Her head began to pound, not with pain, but with the overwhelming loud beat of her own heart, and she felt that near-nauseous feeling returning, feeling herself begging to grow lightheaded as if she would faint. It was all too much. All of this, from the beginning, had been too much for her to handle, and the last week’s events, piled heavily on her shoulders one after the other, had become a burden she was no longer sure she could bear. 

She’d been chosen, she’d gorged herself at the pizza eating contest, she’d been force-fed daily, she’d been shown image after image of once thin girls blown up into unrecognizable tubby porkers as research for her own fattening transformation, she’d worried herself sick about the first challenge, she’d unexpectedly lost it, and now she’d be weighed. In front of everyone. 

The loss was really the thing getting to her, the thing throwing her off her game and causing the first few contestants to plod towards the unforgiving scale without her true attention. To go through this ordeal was difficult enough, but to suddenly lose the promise of a win? To lose the guarantee she’d had, the assurance she’d been giving over and over that her victory was a given, made the entire precarious house of emotional cards she’d built to contain herself throughout the duration of this contest come crumbling down. 

She blinked hard and tried to focus, a boisterous party girl named Jamie next on the chopping block. Jamie looked like she’d been eating well the last week, although not as well as Lindsey, and the already well-endowed girl was nearly bursting from the top of the lace-trimmed grey V-neck she wore. The shirt was tight and only made tighter by the girl’s already oversized tits, and it seemed a week of indulgence had spurred on their growth further. 

Courtney had certainly been right about one thing: contestations would get thick before they got fat. Even before beginning the challenge Lindsey had noticed that in passing, noticed that each of the girls she saw on stage simply looked like themselves with fuller assets, and particularly the girls who’d already had impressive bodies to boast like Jamie. Jamie, whose bikini pictures featuring her double D’s had gone viral on more than one occasion, looked like she could barely breathe with the tightness of her top, her tits pushed up by the taught material and quivering dramatically with each step she took towards the scale. Her breasts hadn't been the only part of her body affected by the week's gluttony, and her once perfectly flat middle sported a slight bump, although that could likely be attributed to the challenge she’d just completed instead of any actual fat accumulation. 

Lindsey watched, ears still ringing, as Jamie stepped on the scale, and the MC called “129 pounds”, leading to a sheepish smile from the busty girl. 

She stepped off as the next contestant came forward, and Lindsey frowned, quickly reminded that her starting weight trumped Jamie's weight after a week of initial gaining. Yes, she was taller than Jamie, and yes, she’d eaten much more at the first challenge, but knowing her weight would also be called out to the crowd, likely the highest among the women even with formerly tiny phoebe's new chub, made her shrink further back in her seat, her attempts to hide as ineffectual as her attempt to win the challenge. 

The next few contestants were a blur, two boys whose names she couldn't have produced at gunpoint who looked no different than they had a week before and another girl she’d rushed with, Christy, who’d only managed to gain 4 pounds, but Lindsey could barely maintain her focus, could barely continue to avoid eye contact with the other members of Phi Lambda.

The girl with the flask was next, her face far more swollen that it had been just a week before although her body looked more or less unchanged under her baggy t-shirt and cargo pants, and despite the way Lindsey tried, attempted to force herself to pay attention through the head spinning dizziness she was attempting to stave off, she didn't catch the girls current weight or pounds gained. 

Things continued that way for a while, the cast of characters she knew she’d begin to recognize more and more as the weeks went on filing up one by one to face the ever-honest scale, and Lindsey suddenly found it necessary to remind herself to breathe, only realizing she’d been sporadically holding her breath when her vision began to narrow to a point. 

This entire competition was just anticipatory fear and anxiety, that's what she’d begun to finally accept the truth of. No matter what obstacles she overcame, there was another to concern her, and it would go on that way for the entire duration of the fattening event. Courtney had promised, in another conversation that Lindsey couldn't get off her mind, that eventually things would settle. At least, the emotional element of things

“You’re gonna get used to it,” Courtney had promised. “I swear. It takes everyone different amounts of time to actually…you know, accept everything, but once you do you won’t care. Everything won't seem so scary. All the food, all the challenges, it won't seem like that big of a deal.”

Lindsey had just scoffed, her mouth full but her objections made plain regardless. 

“I’m serious!” Courtney had insisted. “If you talked to any former pigs they’d say the same, phi lambda or otherwise. Once you really start getting big you don’t get embarrassed anymore, at a certain point you’re basically proud of it. Like last year, with Tammy. She cried after her first three weigh-ins but after her fourth she was starving, she put away more that night than she had any day in the entire first month of the contest.”

Lindsey had frowned as she continued chewing, thoughts of Tammy’s bulging, fat-laden figure after two months still cemented firmly in her mind. The way the once-trimmed girl's stomach had been pushing into her lap, a true ball that wobbled as she reached for bite after bite, was the stuff of Lindsey's nightmares. There had been stretch marks making jagged lines up Tammy's flabby love handles and Lindsey cringed each time she recalled them, knowing that her perfectly smooth, blemish-free skin was destined for the same fate. 

“Once you make it through the first few things, once you get more and more used to eating like this, you won't feel bad about yourself. I promise. You’ll just feel hungry.”

At the time, the impromptu encouragement had done nothing but dishearten Lindsey further, and even now as she reflected on the words meant to be encouraging, it made a hot, shameful feeling rise in her chest. The idea that she’d get so fat so fast all she would care about was food wasn't a comfort to her. How could it be? It meant a massive shift in her priorities, a change in her personality that could only be attributed to a food addiction. 

She was going to become a different person. Not just in her physicality, but in her mentality as well. She was going to become a pig, inside and out. She didn't want to stop caring, to stop feeling self-conscious and embarrassed about what she was doing to herself, the spectacle she was making of herself. The second that embarrassment waned, she wouldn't be Lindsey anymore. 

She shook her head hard, attempting to come back to reality. Her continual zone outs were making her miss large swaths of the contestants weights, although a quick glance to the girls proved that Courtney had been writing absolutely everything down as always, meaning Lindsey would have access to any information she’d missed. There were three contestants to go before it was her turn and she took a deep breath, attempting to steady her breathing. 

The first, a tall girl named Mindy who played volleyball with MJ, stepped on the scale and smiled, apparently harboring none of the misgivings about the contest that Lindsey did. The MC scooched the bars up, and up again after her first estimate had proved too low, then stepped back and announced “151 pounds”, earning loud cheers from the group of girls that Lindsey assumed to be Mindy’s sisters. 

Mindy stepped back, still grinning, but as Lindsey looked her over, she could see no changes to the girl's actual figure despite the tightness of her dress. She was bloated, like the rest of them, but even then her stomach still looked fairly flat, and her arms, breasts, and thighs all seemed unaffected by the week's gain. At almost 5’11 she was one of the tallest girls on campus, and the tallest girl in the contest by far. A slightly higher weight didn't mean much to a girl like that, a girl whose body had the room to spread it out, and while she may weigh the most of any contestant so far (just like Courtney had predicted in their strategy meetings) she likely wouldn't be a threat.

Courtney had predicted everything, down to the kinds of outfits each girl would wear, but nothing in all her calculations had accounted for Phoebe. As eager as Lindsey was to finish her own turn at the terrifying scale, she was even more eager to watch phoebes, not necessarily expecting the diminutively statured girl to actually weigh more than she did, but eager to have a chance to better observe her body, to asses just how large the girl had made herself in the past 7 days. On top of that, she wanted to watch Megan's reaction to see if she could parse out any logic behind Megan's excitement about the gain and victory of a girl who wasn't even in her house.  

The next girl stepped on the scale, a small, studious girl named Ridley who Lindsey had bought homework answers from in the past, and she put up a comparatively meager 132 pounds, the MC noting instigatingly that her weight was unchanged to a host of jeers. Lindsey herself remained silent but was shocked to find that her first instinct was to judge the girl, to reflect on the fact that since Ridley was being weighed directly after stuffing her face, she must've lost weight this week for the number on the scale to refuse to budge. 

The girl's face flushed a deep red and she fled from the scale, the embarrassment of being the center of attention much more likely the cause of the shy student’s blush than the fact she’d failed to gain weight. Courtney had warned Lindsey of those competitors, explaining that without the means to actually support the gain financially, there would be some sororities and students who simply didn't try. It seemed Ridley’s house, Omicron Eta, would be this year's non-participants. 

The girl next to Lindsey stood in anticipation of her turn, and the deep breathing Lindsey had been doing to steady her heartbeat was undone all in one quick pulse. 

As she stood, Lindsey’s eyes widened, knowing Becca M. well enough to immediately see the obvious changes the last week had brought about for her figure. Becca, called Becca M. by all who knew her because of the multiple of Beccas, Rebeccas, and Beckys on campus, had always sported an hourglass figure, but her indulges over the last seven days had manifested themselves as notably thicker thighs and a rounder, more pronounced ass. The difference was nowhere near as dramatic as Phoebe's and could hardly be seen from the front, but the second she lifted herself from the chair Lindsey was shocked to see how much her lower half had expanded so quickly. In her anxiety-riddled stupor, it was only the girls with the most striking differences that stood out to her, and the growth of Jamie's tits and Becca M.’s ass were both standout enough for even Lindsey to take notice. 

Becca M. walked slowly to the scale, her hips swaying, and Lindsey felt another sharp pang in her middle, the realization that she would be next to set foot on that well-trod pad making her want to double over. Her stomach of steel held fast however, and the desire for a sudden illness to overtake her and distract the room long enough for her to make an escape went unrealized. 

The length of Becca M.’s skirt was doing wonders for her already impressive backside, and she smiled the slightly withheld smile of a girl who knew she looked good, who knew all eyes in the room were on her. She’d worn a baggier shirt, much like Lindsey, and the shirt must’ve concealed a burgeoning belly as well because she clocked in at a solid 149. Not the highest of the night, but notable given her average height. That meant she was 9 pounds up, which was on the higher end for the week, and she smiled once more, turned her back to the audience, and walked away even more slowly, switching her hips in a way that had to be purposeful as her rounded rear end bounced from side to side, the effect only exacerbated by her outfit. 

Lindsey, wanting nothing more than to bring the least attention to herself possible, stood in a rush the second Becca M. returned to approach her seat, knowing that if she allowed herself to be paralyzed by fear like her body desired she would only draw more attention to her weigh-in, add more dramatics that would fuel the fire of gossip the phi lambda pig’s first weigh-in would already cause. 

She approached the scale as if she were floating, barely feeling her feet touch the ground, and could only produce a worried grimace in response to the MC’s encouraging smile.

“We have Lindsey,” the MC boomed into the mic, almost making Lindsey flinch. “The pig for Phi Lambda, reigning champs.”

There was a mix of light applause, cheers from her girls, and a few boos, the boos, as Courtney had told her, entirely expected given disgruntlement at their status as permanent champions. 

“She was 140 last week, and this week,” the MC cried anticipatorily, gesturing for Lindsey to step on the scale. She slid the weight marker up once, then again, then one pound more, her grin intensifying with each adjustment. 

“156!” The MC announced with a hint of surprise, the number knocking the air from Lindsey's lungs. “That’s a gain of 16 pounds, our highest of the night so far!”

Lindsey swallowed, her mouth feeling dry as her throat, and forced herself to take another deep breath, praying her face didn't betray her emotions. The crowd was noisy but she could no longer discern individual voices and sounds, and instead felt the room and every sensation within it pressing in upon her with malevolence. 

The MC spoke again and Lindsey turned her head towards the sounds, uncertain of what was being said or if it pertained to her.

“Get off the scale” the MC whispered with her hand covering the mic, clearly repeating herself.

Lindsey stepped down, her hand unconsciously dropping to her protruding middle to feel the 16 pounds she'd packed onto it in just a week's time.