Supermodel

Supermodel by Doug

Maureen hardly noticed them. Her life had become an endless series of forkfuls, each bringing with it a tiny little piece of fame and glory. Forkfuls of pasta, forkfuls of cake, forkfuls of every kind of food imaginable. And most of it was going to end up somewhere on her body. She was fat. Yes, even in a society where the average woman was well over three hundred pounds, she was very fat indeed. She knew she had a special gift for gaining weight, but that was why she was a model. But she was nowhere near fat enough to reach the prize she sought: the official title of World’s Fattest Woman. For twenty years it had been unbroken, held by the notorious model Polly Hunter, who was believed to weigh much more than one thousand eight hundred pounds. Maureen knew that someday the prize would be hers; and her record would be so incredible that it would not be surpassed for generations to come. But at a scrawny six hundred and fifty pounds, she knew that a long road lay ahead. She had everything she needed, though; a powerful modern antibiotic regimen to ward off cellulitis; skin creams that kept her body soft, supple, and most of all, expandable; but these were staples for the “plus- size” woman of 2072. Maureen also had money and power, affording her a full-time crew of assistants, bathers, feeders, and servants. A full-time nutritionist carefully planned out her gaining schedule to maximize gain rate while preserving her in perfect health. Maureen didn’t want to take it too fast; after all, she was only 22, and had her whole life ahead of her to grow. What she didn’t have, though, was a man.

She sighed as she pushed a little button on the control pad next to her extra wide easy chair and thought about men, in general, as it hummed it’s was into a vertical position. Was there something about her that chased men away? Most had stuttered when trying to explain how beautiful she really was. She paused in mid-waddle to examine herself in a lavish 30’s style full length art-deco mirror. Framed inside of it was an almost unreal figure of a fat human woman, overabundant with curves and femininity. Though the room was dark, her reflection seemed to contain more substance than her physical form, as if it were peering out at her instead of the other way around. It was a dark, blackened room with high-mounted sconces and key lighting above the various pieces of furniture: the easy chairs, the mirror, the bed, and the replicator. Somehow the lighting here put an extra emphasis on her belly, which protruded almost a foot in front of her, round and wide, with a small portion that peeked out beneath the bottom of her blouse, yet still encased by black lycrex stretch pants. (The pants were a miracle of modern technology and stretched comfortably to a wide range of sizes. They only carried four sizes, and she was wearing the third largest.) A year ago, she had been able to reach all of her belly, but that time was long gone. This thought made her sigh again, in wishes for that someone who could touch her where she could not. She put on a sexy smile and bent forward into the mirror, exposing her cleavage through the low-cut green top. Impressive, she thought. Her breasts were stunning in size, especially when supported by the bra she was wearing. When she was standing, they made a smooth slope below her neck ending about an inch further forward than her belly reached. But when sitting, they made a horizontal shelf of breast flesh, with a bottomless chasm between, pushed upward and out by the mass of belly below. She waddled her frame around to face away from the mirror, swaying side to side and causing rippling wave motions to dance gently about her five foot frame, intermingling, harmonizing, and eventually dissipating. “Snapshot,” she said to the mirror, with another half-sigh. Rotating back around, she inspected the freeze-frame of her backside. The perfectly formed globes of flesh were round in every way; and the green top she was wearing had ridden up so high from their undulations that it was sitting entirely on their shelf; annoyed, she reached around and pulled it back down, but it was a stretch to extend the garment to their extremities, so she had to twist and do one side at a time. Above these were a series of thick symmetric rolls that constituted her back, starting small and growing in size to her upper arms, which were round, soft, and drooping slightly beyond her elbows. Below her massive rear where two strong and massive thighs, each slightly underapproximating the globe it supported, round with fat that concealed the powerful muscles beneath. Her calves tapered in a similar fashion, and her pudgy bare feet were spread slightly to help her balance. She couldn’t see how someone wouldn’t want her body, with it’s deep valleys and rolling hills. She walked to another corner to log her weight and measurements. A computer beeped as the calculations completed: six hundred sixty-four pounds, ninety-six, seventy-four, one hundred and thirty.

She decided she would go shopping to cheer herself up. She browsed through her wardrobe and picked out something a little more attention- grabbing; a form-fitting blue stretch top to replace the billowy green one. She then slipped into her sandals, picked up her purse, and waddled her way to the teleport pad. “Mall, main entrance,” she commanded.

“Good-bye, Ms. Montague,” said a voice from a speaker as she was leaving. It was Fredrick, the head butler. “Dinner will be ready when you return,” he added, cordially.

The ride was short but sweet. Though she generally had the gravity turned down a little in her suite (turning it down more the larger she got), the experience on the teleport was nearly zero-gravity and always thrilling to her. She could feel her breasts tingle and her nipples harden slightly each time. This was always a little worrisome, because she could not seem to keep them from sticking out of form-fitting things like the blouse she wore now. Oh-well, she thought, and waddled out of the teleport at the other end, coordinating the pendulous rhythms of her body’s movements with the demands of walking. She was quite good at it, in fact, and took pride in the ease with which she adjusted to new gravity levels.

The mall was unusually busy that day, but Maureen liked it that way. Almost immediately she could feel the jealous stares of women only half her size or less; but she was used to it and kind of enjoyed it. As she navigated her plus-size form into the main corridor, she took a survey of the so-called competition; there were women of all shapes and sizes, from big bellies to big thighs, big breasts to big behinds. There were professional women, valley girls, mothers with children, women with men. There were lots of men, of course, but she usually got so much attention from them that she screened it out. None of them seemed attractive to her today, anyway.

Already she was feeling hungry, so she went first to the food court self-serve replicators. Because her breasts were so big, she couldn’t carry a lot at once, so she made a few trips to the machine until her table was sizably full. Three double cheeseburgers, an extra-large fries, a super-size Coke, and a tray of brownies seemed like a good start. The booth looked far too small for her to fit, so she punched in her access code to adjust it. With a slight hum, the table slid back from the seat, while the seat simultaneously widened to accommodate her width. Her access code was also programmed to deepen the bottom of the seat to fit her shape more comfortably. After all, she was a supermodel; the last thing she wanted was a flat butt. Satisfied, she tried to push herself into the seat, only to find that it was still too close to the table. That’s funny, she thought. It fit me last week. Giggling to herself, she reprogrammed the table for an extra three inches.

With a delighted sigh, Maureen sat down and began to devour her lunch. She had to be careful, because the size of her bust occluded her vision of some of the table, especially the parts she could actually reach. It was a good thing she had changed out of the green top, because she would then have had to be careful not to spill any food into her vast cleavage as it traveled back and forth to her mouth. Occasionally, she glanced around at the other tables. One woman was sitting in a two person booth that was adjusted too small for her. She looked uncomfortable, squished like that, but she was obviously trying to be picked up. A trio of women, one quite large, were gawking at the gusto with which Maureen attacked her food. She was careful to give them the occasional sadistic smile. There was also the usual collection of businessmen reading the paper, high school kids, and men feeding their women by the spoonful. She noticed their frequent glances as well, but tried to quell her ego. Eating was such an erotic experience that she had to be careful not to eat too much too fast in public, for she would get excited and it could be embarrassing. Still, the food was delicious. She didn’t have to go for the higher-priced stuff, but she could never avoid the temptation of decadence. The burgers were greasy and thick, full of all her favorite condiments, with rich aged cheddar cheese that complimented the succulent beef. The brownies were also especially good today, chocolate with chocolate chip, and a thick layer of chocolate frosting on top.

A few minutes later, she was swallowing the last brownie, and Maureen had an unexpected surprise. ***

A man walked up to her table, and asked, “Still hungry? I can buy you some more.” The surprise wasn’t that he walked up, but in fact that she was attracted to him. She hadn’t felt that way since her high school boyfriend, who had died tragically three years past.

She licked her lips before she answered to conceal any remaining brownie crumbs. “Yes, I’m still pretty hungry. Care to join me?” she replied, trying to keep her throat from getting caught up.

“I’ll get you some chocolates. I’m sure you’d just love some.” He was being a little presumptuous, but she was so engrossed with his looks that she hardly noticed. That and the fact that he was reading her mind; chocolates sounded wonderful. She watched him walk to the replicator and access the advanced menu. He was tall, slightly thin, but very confident and had presence. “Here, I think these will do,” he said as he returned. They were nothing less than the finest chocolates money could buy; rich and sweet, but addictive and calorie-laden as well. She smiled, without saying anything, and wolfed them down. She had had lots of practice eating seductively, but now she felt so nervous that she thought she was making a fool of herself. Oh well, she thought. At least I’m getting free chocolates.

“Who are you, may I ask? And do you know who I am?” She didn’t like mysteries, and of course wanted to know if she was dealing with a fan. Fans could be dangerous, which is why she didn’t go out in public often.

“Yes, Maureen, I know exactly who you are. If all goes well, you will find out who I am, too. Let me say that I’m a big fan of your work. You can call me Rich.” He was a mix of business and casual, but speaking in a way that most fans didn’t. Maureen pushed her breasts to one side and shook his hand. Though she could not see the box, she knew there were about four chocolates left, and she wanted to eat them as quickly as possible. This was going to be difficult if she couldn’t get him to talk more.

“Okay, Rich. Nice to meet you. It’s always nice to meet a fan. Listen, I’m shopping for some clothes today; would you like to help me pick some things out?” She looked directly into his brown eyes, trying to read his intentions. Maureen hoped she wasn’t being presumptuous, but she wanted to minimize the time she spent in public, and was eager to get moving.

“I would love to. Let’s go.” They got up from the table, and she saw him in full profile again. He was very tall with dark eyes and a clean shave on his smooth angular chin. He must been absorbing her profile as well, as she noticed from the almost unnoticeable bulge in his jumpsuit. Overcoming her nervousness, she led him out of the food court and through the mall. She was in good shape, but moving her massively round frame in a normal gravity setting slowed her down a bit. Her courteously matched her pace, and before long they ended up at “Juliet’s Plus-Size Outlet”, one of her favorite stores. She instructed him to wait by the changing rooms, and he did, as she made her way around the store building a pile of possible clothes. Judging from the weigh-in this morning, she realized she was quickly reaching the upper-end of sizes they sold, being a 12X in a store that only carried to 14X. Still, she was able to find some interesting new items. She found Rich waiting outside the changing rooms, reading a magazine tablet. She couldn’t see it, but he was smiling widely as he watched her waddle in. She came out five minutes later in a flowing black dress, low cut in front and back. She spun around to cause the dress to fly out and billow around her waist and hips. “What do you think?”

“Excellent! Good choice. What else do you have?” He seemed pleasant enough, though a little formal. She also noticed that he was taking some notes, but didn’t say anything and went back in. She reappeared a minute later, this time in a shocking green knee-to-waist miniskirt and a milky white blouse. Her breasts were too large for it, and her stomach skin showed a little beneath it’s lower hem. “That green is a little bold for that top. Do they have any other colors for that skirt?”

“Yes, I think they do, let me go look for some.” She had never actually had clothes critiqued by a man before, and this was interesting. What’s more, she thought he was probably right. Finding the skirts again, she replaced the green one and took down a more subdued mahogany. She changed again, and this time met his approval.

“Much better. Let’s see what else you picked out.” She proceeded to showcase about six other outfits, and on several, he provided suggestions and improvements. For others, he asked her directly about her weight and measurements, which she proudly provided. She left in her original clothes and teleported her purchases back home. They left the store and began to stroll a bit more slowly through the mall. She was still curious about Rich and who he was. She had felt like she had done all the talking, while he was relatively quiet. “Sit down, " he said as they neared a bench. “I have a proposition for you.” They sat down on the wide cushioned bench, Maureen taking up almost half of it.

“I think that’s going a little fast for me,” she replied, her stomach churning a little. She wanted to bite her nails, but she just sat, folding her hands where they reached just below her breasts, and looked into his eyes, seriously.

“No no, I said ‘proposition,’ not ‘proposal.’ I have an offer for you that you can’t refuse, I think. Just hear me out.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“What would you think if I told you that you would be the most famous model in the solar system?”

“I’m still listening.” Maureen quickly realized that she was hearing a pitch from a modeling agency. She had been out of work for a year, and her money from the last gig was running a little dry, but she had been lazy about looking for a new one. It seemed like a gig was dropping into her lap. That is, if she had a lap at all.

Rich lowered his voice. “I am starting a new modeling agency that will revolutionize the business. Our investors have put three years and millions of dollars into research and development for how to acquire super-size top-notch models for advertising, apparel, fashion shows, and stardom. They boys in the back room came up with something– something very special. It’s a new weight gain program,"–and now he lowered his voice even more– “that can let you gain hundreds of pounds a year.”

Maureen gasped. “Is that safe?” She was instantly turned on, but tried to hide it. Her face flushed, and she shifted in her seat, her large hips and thighs brushing up against him slightly.

“Perfectly safe. They’ve created an enzyme that targets lipid-storage cells for mitosis at an exponential rate. It’s also perfectly controllable and enhances bodily health.”

“I’m not a biology professor. In English, please?”

“Sorry. What it means is, we can cause your body to produce more fat cells, each with the potential of storing twice the amount of fat of it’s parent cell. So wherever you have fat now, you will become much, much fatter. We can focus on different areas of the body, of course. As an added bonus, we have a license for nanomachines that act as ‘nurses’ for the fat cells and clean the blood stream. Our weight gain program has been tested on a few people already. But we’re trying to keep it secret from the big supermodels. We could sell it to them; but we want to beat the competition!”

Maureen was engrossed. Before she knew what she was saying, she blurted out, “Well, I’m your woman!”

“I know you are, Maureen. I’ve been looking for you for a long, long time.” They stared into each other’s eyes again, and Maureen could tell she was in for the experience of her life. ***

The modeling company was setting up a small main office on the space station, and Maureen was able to continue living in her old suite while engineers came to install photo and video studios and body analysis machines. They also delivered cases full of the “Adizyme” drug that she would be taking. Rich was there, of course, supervising the operation, which gave Maureen a chance to get to know him a lot better. They did the first contract for a plus-size catalog, who liked her so much that they made an extended contract for three more, or until she was too large to fit their clothes. After it was released, the agency was flooded with requests for more; no one had seen Maureen for a year, and she had gained a lot of weight since then. Little did they know of the surprise they were in for.

Two months into the project, Maureen had gained about eighty pounds. The beginning would be slow, she was told, to allow her body to adjust to new operating conditions. But she was ecstatic. She had never gained so fast; she used lots of lotions and skin conditioners to protect against stretch marks, but some appeared on her belly anyway. She tried to hide them, but when they were discovered, Rich thought they were beautiful and highlighted them in the next series of photobooks.

She was enjoying the modeling so much that she went out less often and stopped working out. As a consequence, she had to turn the gravity down even further to keep her from getting out of breath. The agency warned her not to lose her mobility, but she ignored them. Her life was perfect, save for the stand-offishness of Rich. She ate constantly, filling her stomach and inner passions to their fill, and exposed her lavishly growing form to the world in catalogs, expositions, and fashion shows. Everything was going great. When she reached eight hundred, she began to worry about her dependencies. Just like Rich had said, her body had swelled tremendously in all of her already-fat places. This made her head, neck, back, and feet about the same size as always, though her butt, breasts, and belly had swelled like balloons. She was finding that she could no longer reach about sixty percent of her body without the aid of robotic reach-arms. Her breasts had also become large enough to start annoying her, because she couldn’t seem to find a bra that would hold them somewhere out of the way. Fortunately, Rich was able to arrange the treatment and stop their growth, redirecting it to other parts of her body. Her hips were now over two hundred inches around, and she found that having a five-foot wide rear end was troublesome as well. With her arms outstretched sideways, she could just reach the ends of her hips. She also had not fully adjusted to her body’s mass from gaining so fast, and she often bumped into people or knocked things over unwittingly. This would also be the last time she would be able to go shopping for clothes. She was now as big as the largest woman you could find on the space station; truly supersized, and the stopping point for most professional feedees who wanted to have a life outside of modeling. None of them had a figure like Maureen’s, though; the agency’s amazing product was forming her body into a grossly exaggerated Venusian goddess. Not a single surface of her fleshy form was flat; she was rounded in every way. Intimacy forced the couple to be more creative, though it was of course possible, because although Maureen’s body was large and heavy, it was incredibly soft and pliable. And, as always, most difficulties were solved by nudging the gravity down another notch.

By this time, excursions outside of her suite became almost impossible due to the crowds that mobbed her wherever she went. It took eight armed bodyguards and a robotic defense system to protect her from her fans. Not only that, but under normal gravity conditions, she was a little slow on her feet, and she had to be careful to synchronize the movements of her extremities to avoid falling. After a few more pounds, she also had to make use of a metastabilizer suit that helped her balance and move around a little easier. In fact, she soon found that her popularity and wealth could solve just about any problem she ran into. Technology firms from across the solar system made their bids to engineer solutions for her day-to-day tasks, in exchange for advertising and exposure.

The media, too, was having a feast with Maureen’s incredible gains, having never seen such a young and beautiful woman blossom at such a fast pace. Of course, they all wanted to know what her secret was to gain so fast. “I’m just a natural,” was all she would say. Once in a while, her health risks were questioned, but the agency was able to assure the public of her perfect health, due to the constant monitoring and nanomachines that kept her fit. And it was perfect health, save for a little muscular atrophy, but she could live with that. So what if she eventually had to live in a zero gravity environment? Exercise was never enjoyable, and eating was. For the hedonistic Maureen, the pleasures of life made every decision easy.

But of course, her fame couldn’t go unchallenged forever. The agency couldn’t survive on one model alone, so with Maureen’s success, they began to start other budding beauties on the program. One day, Rich came to see her as she sat in her easy chair, eating lunch. He took a survey of her ever expanding form; noting that her hips and thighs hung off the sides of the five foot wide armless chair, and how her thighs still seemed pronounced when buried under that massive belly. She wore a much-too-small top that stretched thinly between her breasts and belly, exposing a great deal of flesh, and the usual Lycrex leggings she loved. She was truly beautiful; no one could argue with that. Even if she were two hundred pounds, he thought, she would still be breathtaking. But now at nine-hundred plus, she was astounding.

With her bra on, she could arrange most of her food on top of her breasts, where it was easily accessible and visible. “Could you hand me that burrito,” she said with her mouth full, pointing to the tortilla-wrapped morsel that was just beyond reach.

“Sure, here you go.” Rich caressed her hand as he placed the burrito inside it. “I have some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?”

“I’ll take the bad news. When I’m eating, I can take anything,” she said between bites. She could tell this was bad from the serious look in his eyes. She swallowed and put down her food, bracing herself.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “This morning, Rita was weighed at nine hundred and forty-three.” He winced.

“You’re kidding! That’s ten pounds more than me! You promised!” Maureen was steaming about the possibility of a challenge to her superior place in the agency. She wasn’t about to let some new model rival her supremacy, especially after Rich had guaranteed it to her. “You better tell me the good news, quick.” She pouted, her sizably full cheeks reddening and compacting the red lips between.

“You’re going to love it. The boys have come up with something new to supplement your Adizyme treatment. Now they have a diet plan that will flatten your metabolism and keep you perfectly healthy! It’ll be our little secret.”

“Sounds good,” she said, looking back to burrito in relief. “I can’t wait.” He kissed her deeply, and she gently took his hands, putting one into her vast cleavage and the other between her tightly clothed legs… ***

The diet quickly took effect. If she was gaining fast before, now she was gaining really fast. Having grown out of size 4 Lycrex long ago, she now had custom sizes expressly made for her in exchange for the advertising she did for them. Two months later, her decreased mobility finally got the best of her. At around twelve hundred pounds, she lived within the walls of her suite in an extravagant zero gravity lifestyle. Now she was gaining over a hundred pounds a month, and though her size and beauty were phenomenal, the modeling agency was beginning to lose money. Not only were they finding a more difficult market for the seven- foot-wide Maureen, but they were having difficulty tearing her away from her binges to do videos and photo sessions. The increase in Adizyme in combination with her new diet made Maureen ravenously hungry every waking hour. When she appeared in a music video, they had to supply her with a donut every five minutes to keep her from following her stomach instead of the director. Maureen felt once again like the star of the show; Rita had been left in the dust.

As she neared sixteen hundred pounds, Maureen began to feel a little bit shocked by her own size. Each of her breasts outsized a beach ball, and her round hips and rear stretched far beyond the reach of her pudgy hands and draping upper arms. Without gravity, her body had swelled to magnificence in a perfectly symmetrical, feminine way. She had a room of her suite where she took “baths,” with a powerful hot water sprays on one side and a draining mechanism on the opposite wall. She would spend hours caressing herself in the water, directing it in and through her many folds. With some help, she was able to straddle the spray and work her way slowly to an incredible orgasm, when Rich was away. Her butt was monstrous, extending, she was told, two feed behind her, twin globes in the truest sense. She had seen pictures of fat women from the 20th century, with their fat drooping and falling ever closer to the ground, while hers slowly made it’s way outward from the body in huge, round globes of adiposity. In this way, she felt special and unique. Her body, not having any “down” to reference to, appeared as if inflated, and was becoming more so every day. But even ‘inflated’ couldn’t describe it, because of the mesmerizing rippling motions on her skins surface that accompanied every movement. One advertisement for skin cream showed her turning around seductively and stopping herself, and though her frame would stop, the mass of fat around it continued subtly on, pulling and stretching, and then finally bouncing back in all directions, a one-thousand six-hundred pound perpetual motion machine.

Maureen sold more products that year than any advertising model in history; she even had a contract for a movie, but she was gaining too fast for the role to be believable, so the part was cast to Rita instead. By this time, Maureen’s life was so well documented that she could find her weight and measurements in the news every morning before she even got up to check them herself.

One day she found that the five-foot wide doorways of her space station suite were simply impossible to pass through. At first, when going directly through was no longer possible, she began fitting through sideways, or stomach-down, hip first. Later, she had to abandon this as well, for her rear and stomach would not compress enough to allow her passage. Her last method had been to float on her back and squeeze her stomach and breasts in first, toward the ceiling, and then slowly wiggle her butt in the rest of the way across the floor.

Rich tried to comfort her. “Don’t worry, dearie, we can get them widened. You’re making the tabloids every week now, you know. Superwoman magazine has a section devoted just to you. We have thousands of people with network subscriptions to your current statistics. This is just a small hurdle.”

“Oh, I think it’s so exciting!” she replied. Rich was a little shocked; but then he remembered her fantasies. “I knew this day was going to come soon. I didn’t know it would be this soon, though! What a milestone! One thousand, six hundred and eighty seven pounds, and I can officially no longer get through the standard double size doorways of Station 17. I’m so happy, I think I’m going to eat.”

“I have some news for you, dear. I invested all of our initial profits and have enough stock options with the company to begin my greatest project ever– a whole new spacecraft for our models! We will be able to accommodate models of every size on the upper range of the scale, with the ability to travel to meet our customer demands! Best of all, I have modified the plans for the cargo area of the RS-23 to make them your personal room!”

“An RS-23? My god, Rich, that’s over a million cubic feet!”

“Yes, I know! You’ll have everything you need; video and holoscreens, replicators, environmental control, and a large inside window where your fans can come admire you! What do you think?”

“Well, I hope you finish it soon, I’m about to outgrow this place. And then I don’t know what I’d do.” Maureen was so excited, she couldn’t contain herself. She pushed herself across the room, her massive form jiggling wildly and in all directions, screaming in excitement. She reached the opposite wall and used her arms to repel herself back towards Rich.

“Maureen, look out!” he called, but she just kept laughing. Rich was gripped with excitement and fear as the astoundingly fat woman’s legs and behind floated relentlessly towards him. She was so wide that he didn’t have many ways to get around her, and before he could escape, she mashed him against the wall. He could feel the soft give of her acres of flesh beneath the Lycrex, though they were stretched to their limit. Her massive rear pushed his head into the wall, and her thighs gripped him and squeezed his abdomen. He reached around one thigh, but could not make his hands reach. Instead, his arms just sank into Maureen’s soft flesh. Unable to breathe, his only world of experience was her vast body; two gargantuan thighs enveloped his entire upper body, from head to knee, and below that, her ever-present belly compressed his calves and feet. Finally, she released him and he gasped for breath.

“Are you okay?” she said, giggling some more as she pulled herself around to face him.

“Never been better,” he answered with a slight wheeze. He had hardly had time to recover before she ripped off her blouse (which it was about to do by itself, anyway) then mashed him into the wall with her enormous chest. Leaning forward, her belly reached all the way to the floor, and secured his lower body in place. She took what she could of each breast in her arms and brought them around his head. Remembering his suffocation from the last time, he deftly brought his head up through the center of her cleavage, meeting her lips in a romantic kiss… ***

Two weeks later, the cargo chamber was finished and Maureen was transported into what was to be her final home. The transport was quite an ordeal; since she was too large to be teleported from her quarters on Station 17, building crews erected an entire docking port in one of her walls. But she had gained so much weight during the construction, that by the time it was finished she was once again too large to pass through. Rich had to put her on a temporary weight loss diet, not having the funds to revise the construction. It was only three days, but it was hellish for her. Her stomach ached with an emptiness she had never felt before, and she spent the entire time forcing herself through the port. On the third day, she became wedged halfway, and a crew of 24 assistants were able to fit her the rest of the way through, unharmed. Once she arrived in her cargo bay, she spent the first week bingeing to recover from the weakness of the three day diet. The new room was perfect, and had all she would ever need. As an added bonus, the cargo bay was designed to detach from the ship, with it’s own propulsion devices, so Maureen could take trips on her own. It was in fact like this that she and Rich took their honeymoon, one month later.

Soon after, Maureen broke the record and gained her rightful title as the World’s Heaviest Woman. She and Rich lived happily ever after, and the modeling company flourished. They had many other models on the program, of course, but none ever came close to Maureen’s gargantuan size. Years later, her unmeasurable weight was estimated to be several tons, but no one could know for sure. She thought for a moment about how it would all end, as she sucked on a chocolate shake and looked down at the 2:30 tour group peering in from behind the Plexiglas. She smiled at them and hoped it wouldn’t end for a long, long time.