|Game 3||Game 3 Outline|
As another serving of cookies is shoved into your maw, crumbs spew from your mouth as it fills up, filled to the brim with chewed up butter ridden bakery goods. As the clamp forces you to chew, you feel the pressure as it if forced back, no more room avalailable as it slips back tot he back of your throat. You gag, trying to force it back up, but only manage to choke, the resulting spasm causing everything in your mouth to come cascading back as you swallow it all down. As it hits your stomach you feel it gurgle, "Oh n...*GUMPH*" you try to say, only to find another serving of cookies shoved in you mouth.
Your trim waistline buldges out, quickly filling out your suit. You feel a small creak as your rump swells to fill the seat of your pants, the creases in your sleaves and leggings slowly tightening, before becoming smooth as your limbs swell. Your vest strains as your pot belly pushes against it. Frantically you struggle to try and avoid being stuffed, but not to be thwarted, the clamp holds you and shoves more and more into you jaw. Still reeling from your first bout, you can't help but swallow more, adding to the surge of flesh and fat that builds upon your frame. Your vest becomes tighter, straing apart as the buttons struggle to contain your girth. The one about your growing equator suddenly pings, flying across the room, and letting the white shirt underneath sag through the opening.
You pull at your restraints, hoping to manage to pull free, break the arms of the chair, or anything, but distracting yourself only lets the robot manage to shove a new wave of confections down your throat. The vests buttons ping off one by one, the final one causing the vest to bust open, your stomach rolling forward. A ripping sound from beneath you confirms that you seat pants have ripped, filling the chairs seat. your chest jiggles as your stomach settled, growing outward with the restraint of the vest removed. The skint tigh white shirt soon begins to give way as well, your furred gut bursting free. Your sides budge outward, wedging you in the seat, even as you continue struggling, growing bigger and bigger all the time. Your limbs continue swelling, soon causing the seems to burst like overstuffed sausages, leaving your suit hanging on you like undersized tablecloth, all the while looking smaller and smaller in comparison to your massive ballooning form.
As big as you are already, you know it's going to get worse, your running out of time before your too big to move, and then it won't matter, because Leo will have the sauce, the city, and a ballooned blimp of a mascot leading his takeover of the world!
Written by Spots
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