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Roll Model (BBW, WG)

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Ghostly-Spectre

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~BBW, Stuffing, ~SWG - a reality show leads to an unexpected reunion

Roll Model
by Ghostly-Spectre (aka Mytransformations)
(originally commissioned by Nairbcon, who later did another version called Model House, found here)​

Part One

The idea’s inception came during a 3am brainstorming session at the studio. Hundreds of ideas had been tossed out, but the so called creative team had yet to come up with something that pleased the network president. Finally, as usually happens in television, an idea was settled on because of its lack of originality – another reality show about modeling. A beautiful house near the ocean would house the most beautiful women who were aspiring to be models, and they would compete with each other for modeling gigs, act catty, and in general provide great vapid entertainment for a shallow nation.

The “Model House” stood proud and tall alongside the beautiful southern California beach. The girls lounged around on endless plush sofas framed by palm trees, living in a veritable tropical paradise.

The first couple of episodes introduced each model, but the first test came when the first competitive contract walked through the front door. The nation’s biggest electric car company wanted to do a shoot, and they’d only be picking one girl for the job.

Of the dozen-odd women in the Model House, Tara, Cara, and Julia were the three leading contenders. Tara had a cute button face and a shock of curly, beautiful red hair, but she was a tad short and her figure – though trim – was nothing to write home about. Cara was a blonde who had a long legs and a perfect hourglass, but her face was just a tad long and her eyes were spaced a little too far apart.

Julia, however, had no immediately perceptible imperfections. She had a mane of wavy, black hair that cascaded down her shoulders and contrasted perfectly with her just slightly bronzed skin. He had a diamond shaped face, and an impossibly thin frame that still somehow supported an impressive C cup bust and a small but rounded butt. When Julia was off camera, Cara, Tara, and the other women of the Model House would frequently allege that she must have had work done, or at the very least she had an eating disorder.

When it was her turn, Julia always insisted she was a natural beauty, gifted by genetics with a perfect figure and a fast metabolism that allowed her to maintain it effortlessly. And although Julia was willing to lie at the drop of a hat to get what she wanted, in this case she said nothing but the truth.

Needless to say, Julia landed the gig. They drove Julia out to the desert, and she draped her beautiful body over the cars. When she returned to the Model House, she was beaming with pride. When it came time for lunch, Tara and Cara refused to eat a thing, hoping they could try to starve themselves into becoming thinner to compete with Julia.

“You two should just give up right now,” Julia said as strutted into the living room. She looked at Tara and Cara lying limply on the sofa, nervously chewing on their fingers and dreaming of food. “You’ll never compete with my amazing good looks. And you don’t have the willpower to diet either.”

“You just wait,” Tara said. “You won’t beat us every time.”

“Oh?” Julia said, her ears perking up. “I could beat you two any day of the week. With one hand tied behind my back. In fact…I could beat you two without having to diet at all. My metabolism could take you both on.” Julia snapped her fingers, her entitled way of trying to summon one of the servants working in the model house. “Yes, you there…bring me a cheeseburger.”

“Very good miss,” the man said, and quickly disappeared to the kitchen. Soon the enticing sounds of sizzling and the scent of cooking food began to emanate from the kitchen.

“You’re insane,” Cara said. “How can you really hope to maintain your figure if you gorge on junk food?”

“Besides, we’re trying our best to diet over here,” Tara added. “It’s not fair to eat like that right in front of us.”

“Oh, no?” Julia replied with a loud laugh. When the burger arrived, Julia asked the man who brought it for a cheesecake for dessert. She moaned while eating it and licked her fingers clean while Tara and Cara meekly looked on with envy. When Julia finished off a succulently moist cheesecake, she strutted around in her tube top, showing off her tummy bulge. “Look at my ‘food baby,’ girls. That’s all the evidence you’ll ever see that I indulged this afternoon.” Tara and Cara could do nothing but salivate with jealousy. At the end of the day, one of the producers stopped by the set and congratulated Julia on her gig and on her exciting, sure to be ratings-boosting tiff with the other models.

Buoyed up by praise from the network and her own insatiable pride and appetite, Julia decided to continue this routine whenever she could. She ordered the chef to prepare every unhealthy and fattening food she could imagine: éclairs, donuts, waffles, fried chicken, onion rings, pizza, and more. For several days in which the other models and the audience at home looked on in amazement, Julia gorged herself on the richest foods and suffered no consequences. When the next round of modeling gigs made their way into the model house, Julia would still snag the majority of them. Sometimes, she’d even snap up a job while slurping down a sundae or some other delicious, fattening confection.

Eventually, however, calories have a way of adding up, even when pitted against the best metabolisms. And Julia’s, while remarkably fast, was no exception to this rule.

The first changes were so small, so subtle, that they were barely noticeable. Julia’s trademark diamond shaped face was just a tad puffier, her tummy was just slightly pressing harder against the elastic band of her designer underwear. Her breasts, Julia’s pride and joy, filled out her bra a bit more than usual, creating an eye popping effect on her cleavage – so it wasn’t all bad, she rationalized. Julia didn’t bother stepping on a scale, refusing to acknowledge she had gained any weight. When the next modeling gig floated through the model house, a ‘drink milk’ campaign, Julia didn’t waste any time pouncing on it. All she needed to do was wriggle her shoulders and flaunt her breasts and the contract was hers.

When she returned to the Model House, she came with a colossal jug of whole milk she had received from the shoot. To celebrate, Julia decided to chug it in front of the other girls. Tiny little rivulets of milk made its way down her face and onto her breasts, and then onto the floor as she greedily guzzled. When she finished her mouth, neck and breasts were soaked with milk and her tummy was bulging in front of her, stretched to the brim with the fattening liquid. Julia didn’t even bother exercising to try to maintain her figure; she flopped on one of the soft sofas and decided to sleep it off. None of the producers interfered – she was the character the audience loved to hate, and they knew nothing could draw ratings like that. Well, nothing except the character’s inevitable downfall, but they kept that part of their speculation to themselves.

Julia’s weight gain progressed. What was only a few pounds quickly crept into five to ten. The pounds made their effect known to Julia in subtle ways, though she chose to ignore the signs. When a jean skirt stubbornly refused to button over her slightly poofy tummy, she launched into a tirade blaming the laundry lady for shrinking it. When her rounding thighs tore a set of leggings, she blamed the manufacturer for making a fragile product.

Tara and Cara were able to land some of the smaller gig opportunities, but Julia was determined as ever not to let the next one slip away. It was a major designer sunglasses line, and when the time came, they went with Julia. At the point, Julia’s face was starting to get puffy enough for the agency to notice, and the curves of her body were expanding noticeably – at least to someone in the industry. Julia’s advantage was that she was a known brand, and the company decided that the perceived imperfections were small enough to erase with ‘Photoshop’ and other electronic tools.

When Julia arrived back at the Model House with the altered photos in hand, she believed that’s how she really looked and felt invincible. Tara and Cara had eaten nothing but grapefruit and almonds for weeks and had run two miles on the beach everyday at dawn, and they were still runners up to her.

To celebrate her triumph, she ordered up a smoothie – and asked for it to be gallon. She told the chief to add whey powder, soda syrup, chocolate chips, and globs of peanut butter. “To my reign as Queen of the Model House,” she said in a mockery of a toast as she lifted the calorie bomb concoction to her lips and drank.
 

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