Campus Pigs-Chapter 6

“Hey. Hey, Lindsey. Wake up. You gotta wake up Linds, it's time for your morning shake.”

Lindsey groaned and, to her horror, burped the second she opened her eyes, the previous night’s stuffing one of her most intense so far and clearly still filling her stomach to the brim more than seven hours of sleep later. She groaned, her hands falling to her ever-stuffed middle. After her tequila sunrise fueled lunch stuffing with Karina yesterday, she’d slept for so long that her post-lunch snack had to be combined with her dinner again, meaning that the stuffing was the largest and most fattening of the three days Lindsey had been competing as a pig so far. 

Courtney had whipped up a meat sauce pasta, an easy meal because of the cheap, calorie-dense ingredients and simple preparation that left plenty of leftovers. The sauce was swimming in oil, the noodles were slick with butter, and the flavorful, herby chunks of meat crowding the sauce were a pork-based, fatty blend. Five portions served with a loaf and a half of garlic bread so heavily buttered it left Lindsey’s fingers shiny and an entire tray of Courtney’s double chocolate chip cookies dipped in a glass of heavy cream instead of milk. She’d been fighting to down each bite, her earlier gluttony working against her as she attempted to gorge herself beyond any reasonable limit. 

With each meal it was becoming more and more obvious that Abigail was completely right; Lindsey had a stomach of steel. While she was loosely aware that she could handle her liquor well, that she rarely got the stomach flu or food poisoning, it had never really occurred to Lindsey to dwell on the fact that she couldn't remember the last time she’d thrown up. To the best of her knowledge, she never had, even as a child. This meant that the boundary line of her stomach capacity could be stretched, manipulated, and more and more often, ignored entirely as Lindsey shoved down her massively oversized meals. There was no threat or danger of the reversal of all of her hard work because no matter how much she put away, Lindsey's nausea never became overwhelming. 

The previous night she’d sworn she’d reached her limit, swore that if she put away one more bite she would explode, but Abigail, Ellie, and Courtney simply encouraged and threatened Lindsey through the rest of the impossibly large feast, showering her with cooing praise when she finally lay half propped up in the kitchen chair with her face covered in spaghetti sauce and her bloated little gut prominently swollen beneath the stretchy spandex of her tightening tank top. 

She’d been late for bed that evening as she was unable to move for almost an hour, a shooting pain snaking up her middle whenever she attempted to bend at the waist to push herself to her feet. The meal had left her an overfed, gluttonous mess: panting for air in between unabashed burps, moaning and groaning incessantly as she whined about how much her stomach hurt, and rubbing her gut desperately for some kind of relief against the onslaught of food that had successfully been wielded against her. 

When she had finally digested enough to move, Courtney had helped her make the slow shuffle back to her bed, Lindsey holding her small, aching belly like she was nine months pregnant and thanking god for her new first-floor accommodations, finally recognizing Abigail's genius in realizing that whoever was chosen as pig would be first too full, then too fat to be anything less than miserable at the concept of scaling the sorority house’s staircase. Courtney had helped her change into her pajamas, tucked her into bed, and left, Lindsey drifting off into a food coma the second her head hit the pillow. She was jarringly yanked from that peaceful sleep, however, when Courtney returned 10 minutes later, Lindsey’s nightly shake in hand. Lindsey had almost cried when she was shaken awake with the half heavy-cream, half ice-cream concoction shoved into her face, and Courntey’s sheepish apologies and promises that she made it sweeter so it would be easier for Lindsey to get down did little to lessen her complaints or alleviate the pressure on her middle. 

That was the problem with an eating schedule as jam-packed as the one that Lindsey was now expected to adhere to. She was being forced to eat so much so quickly that deviations from the schedule were inevitable, but that just meant she had to make up for the lost calories at the next meal, making it take longer and leaving her even fuller. It was becoming a self-perpetuating cycle and Lindsey was quickly learning that the faster she downed her meals, snacks, and shakes, the less time she had to spend confined to the table in front of plates piled high with a fork in her hand. That mentality at the forefront of her mind the night before, Lindsey had downed the shake more quickly than she ever had and fallen asleep unable to stop her constant burps, her cheeks growing red from just how greedy and plump those uncontrollable burps made her sound. 

As she’d just discovered, sleep did little to ease her fullness, and the burping had begun again as soon as she was conscious. She frowned. After last night's very unwelcome weight gain shake interruption, the last voice she wanted to hear was Courtney’s and the last sight she wanted to see was a glass full of the creamy, decadent treat that Lindsey was beginning to abhor despite its pleasant taste. She turned her head towards the wall belligerently. 

“I'm still sleeping,” she grumbled, pulling her comforter back over her head as she turned. 

“Lindsey, c’mon,” Courtney pressed, poking the lump of covers and getting Lindsey in the shoulder. “You gotta drink this so you can get up and get ready, you have to finish your breakfast before you go to class.”

Lindsey froze, suddenly wide awake. The past three days had been such a frenzy of emotions and calories and force-feeding that she’d somehow completely forgotten that she was attending university for anything other than Phi Lambda. She would have to start going to her classes again, going to them as campus pig, and the thought made her heart sink. She couldn't exactly articulate her qualm with her return to the real world, but the past few days of solitude, of only seeing her sisters and stuffing herself silly for them whenever Abigail told her to, made the whole campus pigs situation seem removed from her actual life. 

In real life, she was Lindsey, a popular soccer player with good grades and an (almost) boyfriend. In this odd, unpleasant little sorority game she was playing, she was the campus pig, the unfortunate girl selected to blow herself up with fat in the hopes of outweighing all the other forced porkers. Doing things Lindsey would do as a campus pig was an interpolation of her two lives that made the whole thing far too real. Going to class and seeing people she’d always seen, sitting in the dining hall or the university's many campus cafes with meals triple the size of what she used to order, even greeting the same professors every day would serve as a horrifying reminder that she was getting fat in real life. That the campus pigs contest couldn't be separated or removed from who she was, but would instead soon become a part of who she was. It would become a part of her story, part of the way that other students and Greek houses identified her. Lindsey, the campus pig. Winner of the campus pigs contest, if all goes according to Abigail's ambitious but apparently not unreasonable expectations. 

She couldn't go to class. She couldn't face that reality yet, couldn't face the real world with her new, unwanted responsibilities. Yes, there were other girls on campus facing the same fate, girls with the same goals, but given that Phi Lambda had been the longstanding and undefeated champions of the contest for as long as they had, all eyes would be on her from the beginning, especially after her unexpected performance at the pizza eating contest. Everyone would be watching her make a glutton of herself, watching her snack all through class then get picked up immediately afterwards so she didn't have to expend a single unnecessary calorie. They’d be overanalyzing her clothes to see if they were fitting tighter, watching her belly to see if it grew while she ate, listening for her burps and giggling when she kept stuffing herself anyway. She’d be instantly infamous, and she simply couldn't deal with the thought. 

“I can’t,” she whispered, no true plan for circumventing her academic responsibilities in mind but forging ahead regardless. 

“Lindsey, you have to drink the shake,” Courtney began with a sigh. “The more often you drink it the easier it'll be to-,” she began to recite, but Lindsey cut her off by popping her head out of the nest of blankets and turning to face her. 

“No, no, not the shake. Class,” Lindsey corrected. “I can't go to class. Seriously, I can't. I- I don't feel well,” she fumbled, struggling to think on her feet. “And I. I…um. I think if I go maybe I'd get sick and that would ruin our progress,” she said, leaning on one of Abigail's oft-uttered phrases in the hopes that it would add a modicum of validity to her obviously fabricated story. 

“You wouldn't get sick,” Courtney protested lightly, pity for Lindsey evident in her tone. “You never do.”

“Yea, but I might this time,” Lindsey argued, her heart beginning to beat faster as panic at the thought of returning to class set in. “I really might. And, and I can eat more if I don't go to class. If I don't go I can just eat all day like I've been doing. And gaining as much weight as possible in the beginning is what's most important,” she rushed, parroting another one of Abigail's frequent talking points. “This is really the most important week, I really need to be eating non-stop.”

“Lindsey,” Courtney sighed, clearly conflicted. 

“I’ll drink two of the shakes!” Lindsey bargained. “I’ll drink two right now and still eat everything I'm supposed to today and I won't complain, I promise.”

“Lindsey, you have to go back to class eventually,” Courtney reasoned. “And the longer you wait the harder it’ll be. I mean-”

She stopped, pressing her lips together as if considering the best way to provide some unsatisfying information. 

“Everybody already knows you’re the pig, right?” Courtney finally forged ahead. 

Lindsey nodded.

“So, everybody knows you’re gonna be eating a lot and you’re gonna be looking bigger, it's just how the contest goes. Nobody is gonna judge you, and nobody thinks this is just something you randomly want to do. They’ll know you’re doing it for your sisters. They’ll be jealous of you honestly, cause they’ll know you’re gonna win. We always win. I’m telling you, being out in public is nowhere near as bad as you think.”

“Courtney, I just can't, I really can’t. Not today, I need one more day.”

Courtney pressed her lips together once more, a slightly guilty expression on her face. 

“Please,” Lindsey begged after the beat of silence, sure she’d nearly worn Courtney down. 

“And you’ll have two heavy cream shakes?” Courtney asked. “And you’ll drink them both without complaining, I won't have to make you?”

“Totally, I'll chug this one right now, give it to me,” Lindsey said, pushing herself into more of a sitting position and covering her mouth when the adjustment to her posture forced out another burp. 

“Ummm,” Courtney hummed, considering. “Fine. Here. I’ll go make your next one.”

“Oh my god, thank you Courtney, thank you,” Lindsey breathed, relief flooding her body as the house treasurer handed her the cold glass. “I’m gonna go tomorrow, I promise.”

Courtney sighed. 

“You better. I don't wanna get in trouble with Abigail. I think one more day is fine, just don’t… don’t tell her. I’ll be right back.”

Courtney flashed her a quick smile and was gone, Lindsey's heartbeat finally slowing as her problem became the next day's concern. 

Left alone with the shake for the first time, Lindsey looked down at it, raised it to her lips, and paused. Courtney had left to make a second shake and no one was here to watch Lindsey.

‘No one on guard duty’, she thought bitterly. 

With no one to verify that she was actually consuming the contents of her fattening daily treat, what was stopping her from running to her bathroom and flushing it before Courtney returned? She threw back the edge of her blanket, eager to enact her covert plan while she still had the opportunity, then paused, still gripping the glass. 

If Abigail found out about this, as illogical and far-fetched as that concern may be, Lindsey's punishment would be enormous. And on top of that, poor Courtney would also be punished despite the fact that the only reason that Lindsey had an opportunity to skip out on a required meal was because Courtney was being kind to her, was circumventing Abigail's rules for Lindsey's sake. Courtney receiving an out-of-house suspension for something like that would be egregiously unfair, but Lindsey wouldn't put it past Abigail. Her competitive nature knew no rest, could interpret no nuance, and in the pursuit of a win, Lindsey had seen Abigail grow illogical, turn on those who were supporting her. It just wouldn't be fair. 

Lindsey took a small, investigatory sniff of the shake, then found herself taking a sip before she realized what she was doing, her habit of chugging the shake to rid herself of the task as quickly as possible kicking in. She took another sip, sighed, then began to steadily chug the thick, sugary liquid, feeling her already full belly expand and grow tight as she chugged the fat-growing shake. She paused, took a gasp of air, then lifted the viscous drink back to her lips, feeling the sticky cream slide down her throat with each gulp and her head emptying of all other thoughts as she focused on her breathing to properly down her prescribed shake. 

Her hand dropped unconsciously to her belly as she continued her methodically swallows and she swore she felt it bloating and growing into her open palm, her middle protruding further and further as the cream she was pouring down her throat met with all the food she’d put away the day before, making her inflate like a greedy little ballon. 

She took another break for air, groaning as she did so, and continued to press her open palm into her bloated little ball of a gut, moaning with each touch and marveling at just how hard and round her stomach got so quickly, how she was always so perpetually full that a few minutes of stuffing her face left her middle as hard as a rock. Sucking in with a belly that full was painful, which meant that for the last three days, Lindsey hadn't engaged her ab muscles at all and let her bloat bulge out unencumbered, making her growing gut appear even larger and more visible than it already was. 

As she rubbed her gut, continuing to groan, she couldn't believe that the body she was touching was really hers. That she was allowing this to be done to her. That she was doing it to herself. She frowned, upended the glass above her mouth, and downed the rest of the shake in a few quick gulps, letting out two loud, long burps and wiping white drips of excess cream from the corners of her mouth. 

She groaned again out of instinct but found that despite her agony after the previous day's morning shakes, she wasn’t that full. She felt packed of course, felt like every centimeter of her stomach was crammed with rich, heavy food and like moving would be a chore, but she didn't feel painfully, unbearably full like she had over the past few days. She wasn’t panting as if she’d just run a few miles or gripping her gut with both hands while uncontrollable groans worked their way out of her lips. 

She was already growing accustomed to her new meal plan. 

It still was uncomfortable, but it was becoming manageable, and the fact that the shift took place so quickly terrified Lindsey to her core. Soon a single shake would feel like nothing. That was what Abigail was working her towards. And the more she ate, the more she drank, and the less she moved, the hungrier she'd get. The more she’d put away. The bigger she’d grow. 

These were all simple, logical concepts, but Lindsey realized them anew on a daily basis. It was as if each day she had to come to terms with the fact that she’d get fat, that she’d had to discover and reaccept the situation all over again as if it were foreign to her. Not feeling full enough after drinking a shake designed to make her pile on blubber was concerning, and for some reason, the concern made her want to eat more. It was the mindlessness of the action, the distracting, overwhelming sensation of it, and Lindsey was unable to acknowledge that she was subconsciously craving it as a respite from the thoughts that were plaguing her. 

She burped again just as Courtney knocked and entered with a second shake and Lindsey reached for it eagerly, surprising them both.

“I just want to get it out of the way,” she said sheepishly, taking the glass in both hands as Courtney grabbed the empty one from her nightstand.

“You’re not full?” Courtney asked with raised eyebrows.

“I am. I just-”

She paused, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“I just really don’t wanna go to class,” she mumbled. “I really don't.”

“It's ok,” Courtney said, taking a step closer. “I get it, I do. We’ll just have you eat a lot today. It’ll give us an advantage, like you were saying.”

Lindsey opened her eyes and nodded, grateful. 

“But tomorrow, class.”

“Yea,” Lindsey relented quickly. “Yea, for sure. Tomorrow.”

“So,” Courtney began, eyes falling to the shake. “Were you gonna drink that? Cause I was about to go get your breakfast started and…”

“Yea,” Lindsey interected, lifting the glass to her lips and beginning to chug. 

While the first shake may not have made her feel like she was one wrong move away from popping like it had the first few days she’d had it, it still left her full enough that just two swallows of the second shake left her feeling as if her skin were about to split. She was instantly so full she could barely keep herself in a sitting position and groaned, sliding down a bit with her hand firmly glued to the side of her bloated little mound of a belly. 

“I’m so full,” she gasped, almost afraid to speak at full volume in case she truly did explode. 

She had massively overestimated her capacity for the chance to skip one more day of classes, and the chickens were coming home to roost. 

“I’m so full,” she breathed again, interrupting herself with a loud burp and groaning immediately afterwards. “I’m so full,” she repeated in a near whimper. 

“You got this,” Courtney encouraged hesitantly, trepidation in her tone. “You can do it, just keep drinking.”

“No, Courtney really, I-” Lindsey cut herself off with another enormous burp and began to rub her belly faster, moaning and groaning even louder.

“Ok, ok,” Courtney relented. “Ok. I shouldn't have tried to give you two. Here, here's a trick I learned from a campus pig a few years ago.”

Courtney took another step closer.

“Can I..can I touch your belly?”

Lindsey nodded, miserable, and Courtney leaned down and placed both hands on Lindsey's swollen gut, eliciting a sharp gasp from the overstuffed girl. She placed a hand on either side and began to work them in slow, concentric circles, soothing the tension in Lindsey's middle through well-practiced movements and easing the tightness with each sweep of her surprisingly strong hands. Lindsey groaned again, then a cacophony of burps exploded from her mouth, the pain in her stomach immediately alleviated as the burps that Courtney had worked out of her left more room for the shakes she’d put away. 

Too relieved to be embarrassed, Lindsey groaned even louder, Courtney's hands feeling amazing as they moved across her middle. 

Courtney lifted her hands from Lindsey's body and stepped back, and Lindsey darted to grab Courtney’s wrist with her free hand, her eyes wide. 

“How did you do that?” she demanded in awe. 

“I just..picked it up. I don't know.”

“You need to do that again,” Lindsey said, bringing Courtney's hand back to her middle. “Please? At least while I finish my drink.”

Courtney pressed her lips together once more, looking down again. 

“Sure,” she finally squeaked as if a bit nervous, then brought her other hand back to Lindsey's gut to work her magic. 

Lindsey downed the rest of the shake slowly, enjoying every second of her impromptu belly massage, and finished both in less than twenty minutes, typically the amount of time it took her to pack away one of the calorie-laden shakes. Courtney’s small hands continued to work burps out of the overfed campus pigs contestant well after the shake was completed, and Courtney continued her steady methodical circles that eased Lindsey's bloat and pain, both of them lingering in the comfortable silence of Lindsey’s private room. 

The feeling was so calming that Lindsey felt herself beginning to drift back to sleep, and she opened her eyes with a start the second that the warmth of Courtney's hands left her midsection. 

“I’m gonna go make your breakfast, ok?” Courtney whispered.

Lindsey nodded, placated entirely by the hypnotically relaxing belly rub Courtney had subdued her with. She closed her eyes, rested her own hand on her belly in place of Courtney’s, and slipped back into sleep.