ALLISON’S FACTORY EXPERIENCE

“Nah, roast beef is dumb, we’re changing that…” Allison looked over the strange machine, finding the control panel that was to the side of the large red button.

Wonka left off his explanation. “Hm? Come again?” His head tilted to the side, bewildered.

The mouthy brunette groaned in annoyance. “Like I said, I don’t want to chew one that has roast beef, I want…” Staring intently at the controls, she answered her tour guide’s questions with an air of annoyance. “Bacon? Like, just bacon?” Allison shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I could do that. And here we go…!” She pressed a few buttons with confidence, then slapped her palm against the large red one marked “START”.

Once more the great gum machine whirred up, mixing up a different set of courses than the one that had already been spat out not a minute prior. Wonka spoke quickly, but matter-of-factly, saying, “No, please, the bacon course isn’t ready yet, and in any case, you won’t be chewing either, as there’s still the issue with the blueberry p- “

Allison scoffed without even turning to look, her wide rump up in the air as she bent over to watch the machine work. A plump girl, she fit snugly into her blue pants-suit and top, and the large red belt that pulled the ensemble together was just ever so slightly too tightly bound around her waist. “What do I care? I’m gonna be the first one to try this, and I’m not eating a big hunk of red meat for my main course!” she said in a screechy tone. The machine let out a sputtering sigh at last, spitting out another piece, which Allison dashed over and rapidly snatched.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I really wouldn’t,” said Wonka tersely, making Allison pause for a moment.

But only for a moment. “So long as it’s gum, then that’s for me!” she declared proudly, shoving it into her mouth.

Allison’s boyfriend Sam took her by the shoulder as she quickly walked away from Wonka. “Allison, you don’t wanna do something…” the strong-jawed guy held back the word ‘stupid’, but the concern on his face said it all.

“Ugh!” was all Allison had to say in response, as she squirmed out from her lover’s grip.

“What’s it taste like…?” asked Charlie, a fair-haired young man on the tour.

“It’s tomato soup!” Allison declared proudly, chomping away. “It’s hot and creamy, I can actually feel it running down my throat! It’s delicious!”

Wonka sighed. “No… don’t… stop…” he said, his sarcasm thick and sweet as molasses.

The crowd murmured, whispering criticism of the girl who was currently loudly bragging about how good the gum she’d stolen tasted. “Boy, what a brat…” “Doesn’t even close her mouth when she chews…” “Stands to reason the fatty would be the one to take the three-course gum…”

But before long, they noticed something else strange – Allison’s belt was looking tighter. “Huh…?” she looked down, noticing how the red loop that encircled her waist was beginning to be consumed by her own body. “Am I… what is this?!” She pinched her love handle as it swelled and drooped.

“She’s… getting fatter!” shouted the loud British woman, Veruca. “Haha, what a fat pig!”

“Oh, you don’t know how right you are…” Wonka murmured to himself. “In any case, I told you I hadn’t got it quite right yet.”

Sam turned to Wonka. “You can say that again, it’s making my girlfriend fat!”

“Made her fat?” But Wonka was not all cool retorts and reactions. He took his cane and jabbed it into the lower roll that was inexorably drooping fatter, rounder, and heavier from beneath Allison’s tight red belt. It folded easily around the wooden rod, yielding like marshmallow fluff. “I would say it’s made her a fatter girl, no?”

A brilliant purple-scarlet spread across Allison’s cheeks in fury. “I-I am not fat!” she cried in rage, her fleshy cheeks bouncing up and down with every chew. Realizing the ridiculousness of that statement as her double chin rapidly swelled in size, she made to amend her statement. “A-and anyway, if I AM fat… nmmphh… which I’m not… mmmm…” Allison paused for a moment, pleasure showing through her rage. “… Oh my god this tomato soup is good… Besides, this is all your stupid gum’s fault anyway! Fix it already!” She stomped her foot, making her whole flabby body jiggle in its blue fabric prison. She had to be well over three hundred pounds by now, in only minutes.

Wonka sighed and rested both hands on his cane as he explained calmly, “The only ‘fix’, my little pork-pie, is for you to stop chewing that delicious gum, and spit it out immediately. It’s bad enough that the soup’s already had such an effect, and I daresay you won’t like what the bacon course…”

Frrrrttt, came the sound from Allison’s thickened rear end, making everyone in the room freeze. It was an unmistakable sound, followed by an odor that confirmed the source of the noise. For a few seconds, the only sound was her incessant, greedy chewing.

Whispers came up from the group. “How positively revolting…” “Did she just let one rip?” “Figures the fatty would have a gas problem…”

Allison glared at them, but she had no retort. She turned to Wonka instead. “W-was… mnfff… that the… thing I won’t like…?” said the bratty tour guest, showing just a hint of worry in her tone.

“Oh no, I’m afraid…” Wonka chuckled. “It seems changing the courses so quickly lead to some unfortunate side effects, even at the first stage… how fascinating…” The tour guide took his cane and jabbed it once more into Allison’s belly, causing her to let out another trumpeting fart, so hard it made her cheeks clap. “I think we might be seeing some very interesting changes indeed in our gum-chewing guest.”

Panic flashed across Allison’s face, but she showed no signs of stopping her smacking, only slapping Wonka’s cane away from her turgid tummy. “S-sam, make him… braarrurrrrp… stop! M-make him… urrrrp… Make him fix it!” Now belching in addition to her flatulence, she turned to her boyfriend, pleading with him as she continued to fatten. The belt was now frightfully tight on her, dividing a lower belly that sagged down halfway to her knees from an upper gut that was drum-tight above.

The look on Sam’s face had much the same sort of disgust and shock that every other tour guest wore, however. “Uh… babe, don’t you think you should at least… consider… spitting it out, though?” He looked up and down his girlfriend’s rapidly-widening frame, and he did not seem pleased with his lover’s new physique. Still, what his body language showed, he was careful to make his words hide. “I mean… it’s obviously having some… effects… on you…”

“No!” Allison did not even hesitate. “Sam, this… brraurrrp… this gum is made for me! I’m gonna be the… hfff… first one in the… urrrp… world to try all the courses!” Belching and huffing due to her enormous size, the now-quite-fat young lady defiantly refused her boyfriend’s reasonable request.

Sam could hardly even meet his girlfriend’s eyes. “Yeah, but… babe, you look like a… a…” He stammered slightly, but the word was already slipping out. “A… pig…”

Allison took several waddling steps towards Sam, each one producing a sputtering fart. “What… hfff… did you just call me?!” Her face grew red with fury, and just as she made to launch into a screeching tirade against her boyfriend, her eyes lit up. “B-bacon! Piles and piles of… urrrrp… hot, crispy bacon!” Her fury with him seemed all but forgotten as she went back to chomping away.

“Oh dear… looks like we’ll be needing some help…” Wonka muttered to himself, playing a lilting tune on his flute. When a little orange oompa-loompa showed up, he said without a hint of awkwardness, “I want you to weigh the young pig and keep track of her progress. There’s a great deal of opportunity here, particularly with the third course.”

Sam tapped Wonka on the shoulder, overhearing what he was saying to the worker. “Third course? What’s gonna happen to her then?”

“Oh, you’ll see soon enough…” Wonka said, turning his attention back to Allison.

“Oh my god this… hfff… bacon is… braarrurrrp… perfect! It’s so crispy, just how I like it!” Still belching and farting, Allison nevertheless proudly extolled the gum’s second course. With a loud, final crack, her belt buckle gave way, allowing her belly fat to bulge out over her waist in a cascade of jiggling flab. Allison herself hardly seemed to notice, so entranced was she at that moment by the flavor of the gum.

The crowd of other tour guests was a wealth of snarky comments. “I bet you’d get a lot of bacon out of her…” “She’s getting even fatter… is she ever going to stop?” “Wait… what’s happening to her ears…?”

In response to the last comment, Allison said in her usual combative screech, “Shut up! Just cause… hfff… urrrp… you’re jealous I get to… brraurrrp… have this gum doesn’t mean… mmnfff…” She trailed off, however, and just moaned. “Oh god this bacon is good…”

Everyone else was now noticing it too, including Sam. “Babe, your ears! They’re… getting… bigger…?”

“What are you talking about…” Allison lifted her hands to her ears, unable to ignore her boyfriend’s comment. There she found something that made her eyes as big as dinner plates – “My ears! They’re… they’re pointy!” There, nestled among her brunette tresses, her ordinary ears had turned into some rather extraordinary ones – pink, triangular, and dangling slightly from the sides of her head.

That was not the only change, either. “Her nose! It’s turning into… pffft…” Veruca realized what was going on quite quickly. “What an adorable pig’s nose you have there, you little lardball!”

At this, Allison grabbed for said nose, and found it there – flat, wide, and upturned, it looked for all the world like a pig’s nose. “T-this can’t… I can’t…” Still farting and chewing, she stared in disbelief at her own hands. Her skin was turning pink and smooth, losing her former paleness. “I’m not a… hfff… Not a p-OINK” Before she could even get the word out, an involuntary squeal passed her lips.

The ridiculous noise made the whole group began to laugh. “Look, she’s even got a pig’s tail!” shouted Mike, who cruelly yanked on the curled little tail that sprouted out from above Allison’s massive booty. He was back by the ripe burst of gas that she involuntarily released, however.

“Oh, I’m afraid you are most certainly a pig, my dear guest.” Wonka spoke with his usual final certainty, not looking directly at anyone. “Albeit a rather anthropomorphized version. It happens every time with the bacon course, I’m afraid. We’d had it corrected with the roast beef, but seeing as you wanted something else…”

“Get… oink… away from me!” the pig-girl squealed at Mike, as much a request as a demand. Still chomping away, her gassy indiscretions continued worse than ever. Sam could no longer bear to even look at her, so embarrassed was he by association. Soon, four or five oompa loompas approached her, surrounding her on either side. “Wait… brrarurrpp… what are those… Oink… hff… things doing?!” Allison wheezed and belched as she nervously shuffled from side to side, all her lard-flesh swaying and bulging outward. Even the buttons on her formerly loose top were looking strained, pig-fat bulging up through the holes.

“I… I think they’re here to help you, Allison!” said Sam, dispensing with the terms of endearment and calling his girlfriend by her given name.

“Oh, yes, they’ll help her,” said Wonka. “It’s a fairly simple process. You see, we’ve got a good deal of livestock coming through here, and we happen to have a scale on hand specifically for the purpose…”

More oompa loompas were dragging the scale towards Allison, a team of six or seven. It was a large steel platform with an electronic reader displaying the weight that rested upon it. They let the scale rest when it was about fifteen feet or so from where Allison stood.

“S-stop! G-get… burrarrrup… get away…!” Allison swatted with fleshy pillow-arms, managing little more than lazy arcs that were easily dodged by the nimble workers. They moved in close, ushering the chomping pig-girl like the fat livestock she was becoming. They were assisted by a fresh wave of bacon flavor from the gum, which had Allison’s eyelids drooping and her throat moaning. “Nnnfff… B-baacon… bfrararrrurrp…” She gasped for breath between sloppy chews, her piggy nostrils flaring, and allowed herself to be led towards the scale.

Amidst it all, the loompas began to sing, a bouncing quippy rhyming beat.

Piggish little imbecile

Chomping away with a smile

What do you think you’re getting at?

Eating so much, growing fat?

Sam physically cringed as his girlfriend – former girlfriend, if Sam was being honest about his feelings – had become little more than a pig, lead to the scale to be measured. And they were singing, no less. The loompas were running measuring tape around various parts of her, pinching her and testing her body fat percentages. They scribbled and took notes, treating her like a piece of meat.

“S-sstop… nfff… oink… brrauarrrup…” Allison protested, but more weakly with every chomp of the gum. Tottering from one side to the other in a slow waddle, she stepped up to the scale, her belly now drooping down close to her knees. She was clearly struggling just to maintain her slow plodding pace, and she was still fattening up with no end in sight.

“Six hundred sixty-two pounds!” Sam shouted, seeing the number on the scale. His jaw dropped. “How is she ever going to lose that much weight?!”

“I assure you, she won’t,” Wonka said, his voice as cold and smooth as a frozen lake.

“She what?! She’s going to be that fat forever?!” Sam was practically out of his mind with panic.

Wonka, by comparison, seemed utterly calm, even wistful. “If she’s that large at this time… oh my, she’s going to be a very big one indeed…”

Allison, the stupid pig

Packing fat and getting big

Jaws so fast they’re like a blur

Is there any stopping her?

Allison’s cheeks burned at the humiliating criticism, but she kept chewing nevertheless. “F-fix… snrk… m-me… brarrurrp…” Her triplet of chins wobbled as she looked left and right at the loompas, all of whom were still prodding her and playing with her. She was enormous, easily the fattest girl anyone there had ever seen. The scale was ticking upwards precipitously, passing seven hundred pounds with frightening speed.

Greedy infantile buffoon

Swelling like a lard-balloon

Filled with so much noxious gas

Gaining ever higher mass

“Allison, you have to stop!” shouted Sam, sounding less like a boyfriend and more like a concerned stranger. “Who even knows what the third course might do!”

“N-no! Brarrurrrp… Not… stopping…! Hfff… He… oink… mmmfff… he has to… hfff… fix me…!” she whined, flapping her fat lard-bag arms against her sides, making sloshing ripples flow over her body. Her outfit was as tight as a pastry bag, packed taut with hundreds of pounds of soft pig-fat. Ping, ping, ping went the buttons from her shirt, freeing her enormous gut to sag most of the way towards the floor. Though she was standing, it was doubtful whether Allison was ever going to be able to take another step, if her weight continued to rise.

“Seriously? She isn’t gonna spit it out?” “What a spoiled brat…” “She’s just moaning and chewing again… what a pig…” the crowd murmured.

The threshold’s approaching fast

As her fat grows soft and vast

The third course will be here soon

Then she’ll sing a different tune…

“Isn’t it amazing how much energy you can pack into bacon? A fabulous number. She’s feasting on roughly ten thousand calories a second, you know.” Wonka spoke to the crowd as though Allison weren’t even there.

Allison took note of the ominous twist in the song, however. “W-what’sh this… brarrrurp… t-third course?!” she squealed, grunting like a fat pig.

“Oh, I think you’ll be seeing it soon. My, this is an interesting one…” Wonka watched the number on the scale with the fascination of a scientist.

Eight hundred, eight hundred fifty, nine hundred pounds – Allison collapsed to the ground, falling backwards onto her soft cushion of a rear. She wobbled back and forth like a massive pink custard, her next few buttons popping off, as her pants started to tear at the seams. Her protests grew weaker and weaker until she was mostly just mindlessly smacking away, a placid look on her dough-bag cheeks. “Mnff… B-bacon…”

Oh-so-fat and getting fatter

Turning her clothes into tatters

Trouble’s brewing from within

We wonder, can she hold it in?

Just as the scale hit one thousand pounds – a half-ton – a wet squelching noise came from Allison’s backside. She could no longer hold it in. Her mouth hung open between sloppy half-chews as her overtaxed digestive system was overcome, letting out a messy splurt of brown waste. The loompas seemed prepared for this, collecting it in buckets, and rapidly cleaning the half-gone pig-girl’s rear end.

Save for Wonka, everyone recoiled in horror, Sam most of all. “Oh, Allison, that’s disgusting…” he said, backing away from her.

The fat pig-girl mounted a feeble protest. “N-no, I didn’t… I… snrk…” She could not help herself from grunting like a half-ton pig, being weighed by a cadre of tiny orange men. Then, all of a sudden, Allison’s eyes lit up. “B-blueberry… hnfff… P-pie!” she said, squealing with piggish delight.

“What’s the nasty pig doing now?!” screeched Veruca, sneaking in a jab with her foot at Allison’s wobbling bulk.

“She’s… turning blue…” whispered Charlie.

Allison hardly seemed to notice what any of them were saying, while a distinct bluish shade overtook the pink one around her flattened nose. It spread outward with every chew, faster and faster as Allison’s incessant smacking picked up pace.

“Every time, they all become blueberries…” Wonka sighed, more chiding his own lack of ability to fix the issue, than any worry he had for the disobedient pig who was currently turning into a fruit.

“I… oink… f-feel… brarrurrrp… funny…!” Allison said between belches, even as her eyes stayed half-lidded in joy. The blueberry pie flavor filled her mouth, so rich and thick and sweet it was unlike anything she had ever tasted.

“She’s getting even fatter! She’s gonna be the fattest lady ever!” shouted Mike, excitedly.

“Oh, no, I do believe what’s happening to her now would disqualify her from that category…” Wonka took his cane, and for a third time, he jabbed it into the defenseless pig-woman’s belly. The fart that came out was distinctly different in color – though it still smelled ripe and fermented, it had a rich fruity odor beneath it, like a well-aged cask of wine. “Our little pig is filling up with juice now, you see. She’s going to be a blueberry very soon. A rather large one, if previous experience is any indicator.” Wonka let out an uncharacteristic chuckle. “My, she’s far fatter than any of my previous subjects. I can’t wait to watch.”

“A… brrarrurrp… blueberry?!” Allison’s ears caught on this, as the blue color enveloped her entire body. Her clothes were all but shredded by now as her still-increasing weight surpassed 1200 pounds, leaving her almost nude, save for her panties. She was nearly as wide as she was tall, with hips that were four feet from side to side, and tits that were each fifty pounds and wide as a beach ball. But, curiously, all of her sagging rolls and bulging flab were starting to tighten up, and stiffen, growing outward as they did so.

“Yes. Have a feel of her, if you like. It’s fascinating, watching the fat cells multiply and morph into thousands upon thousands of gallons of nourishing juice.” Wonka gestured for the group to advance upon Allison.

“W-what… brruarrrp… snrrk… g-get away…!” Now almost entirely blue, over all of her prodigious fat rolls, Allison flapped her hands and swatted them as best she could. But, all the lard piled up in her arms prevented her from moving them more than a few feet in any direction. She was simply too fat.

“So squishy… but like… bouncy…?” “It’s like jabbing a water balloon…” “She’s getting tighter all over!” All of them prodded and played with Allison experimentally – even Charlie, though he was gentle. Allison was utterly powerless to stop herself from being played with.

Sam was the only one who stayed back. “B-but, if she’s all filled with juice, like…” He asked Wonka nervously, looking towards his blueberry pig of an ex-girlfriend and away again. “Maybe, you could, squeeze her out, or something…?”

“Squeezing? Oh, heavens, no.” Wonka shook his head and chuckled. “She’s going to be a blueberry for the rest of her days. Squeezing would be a disaster, just a disaster.” He continued to shake his head, as if wanting to put the very notion out of his mind completely. “No, we’ll take her down to the sugar fields, where those unfortunate discharges of hers can be put to use in the soil, and those same sugar fields can be used to further her own ripeness.” He said it with all the normalcy and condescension as if he were explaining to a child how to wipe up a mess from the floor.

“S-sugar fields? I-I can’t have a blueberry for a girlfriend! You have to fix her!” Sam begged.

“Well that’s what you get for being a naughty little brat and taking the gum.” Wonka shrugged nonchalantly. “I had thought it was clear that any disobedient guests would be staying as property of the factory. You did read the clause upon entrance, hm?”

Sam might have argued… if he had any real desire to stay with Allison in her current state. What was he going to do, keep her in his house? “I… w-well… o-of course I did…” he muttered, backing away sheepishly.

The formerly mouthy Allison was now utterly addicted to the flavor of the gum, mostly moaning and cooing as her flabby rolls filled out with juice. She grew bigger, rounder, wider, stretching far beyond what any human body ought to be able to. Sloshing sounds of juice came from inside her, the numbers on the scale rocketing skyward as the oompa loompas danced around her.

Fifty pies in every chew

That’s how much she’s going through

Smacking away in berry bliss

There’s no going back from this

Inexorably, the fluid filled Allison up, making all her sloppy pig-fat turn into taut berry-flesh, like juice flowing into a deflated balloon. Soon Allison was nearly ten feet across and close to round, her feet just barely touching on either side. She tottered from side to side, her cheeks flushed with exertion and her mouth constantly open, smacking and belching. She was a gassy blue pig-blimp, barely able to waddle, and utterly obsessed with chewing the gum above anything. The loompas gathered on one side, tipping her over, despite Allison’s feeble flapping. One of them took a tag and clipped a livestock tag onto her ear, while a team of others painted a designation on her side in white paint – SUGAR PIG, it read.

Time to make this piggy roll

Put her in her final role

Take her to the sugar patch

Get started on her sugar batch

They tipped Allison side over side, making her spin like an enormous ball. She firmed up as she went, growing bigger and bigger as they pushed her. Soon she was over fifteen feet across, a nearly perfect sloshing orb of blueberry juice, with a little pig tail sticking out from her behind, two useless hands and feet, and a face with a pig snout, still smacking away at the gum. Even her titanic fat breasts had been swallowed up by her taut spherical body. Her cheeks were as big as baseballs, wobbling and gurgling softly as she kept chewing like the spoiled pig she was. The rolling seemed to agitate her innards even more, making the fat blueberry pig spew gas into the room at an advanced rate.

Now we’ll take this blimp away

Take her somewhere she can stay

A blueberry like none before

Ripening forevermore

Allison was all oinks, farts, grunts, and belches as they rolled her away. She saw herself with eyes that were only half-there, lazily surveying her own enormity with a distant look. She had to be twenty five feet across, and was still growing in size, her skin creaking with the enormous volume of juice. The last coherent thing any of them heard from her was a muffled, “M-more…”

“I think she’ll have a lovely time in the fields,” said Wonka with a chuckle.