Fattening Belle

"My stomach hurts." The model sat at the table, a hand on her still-flat stomach. In front of her was a heap from her latest binge: two empty pizza boxes, a discarded box of chocolates, and a cake tin. The size zero woman looked like she hadn't eaten in about a week.

Around her were the other models of the house, various looks of exasperation and disgust written across their faces and spreading into their faces.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," murmured Brittney, the cattiest of them all. She had no love for Belle, as the naturally thin girl could eat like this every day and not gain an ounce. That Belle was the most popular model in the house and Brittney was relegated down to second-place didn't help matters.

"I bet she just barfs it up," Yvonne answered, whispering into Brittney's ear, but the blonde just shook her head.

"No, I watch her." She sighed and put her napkin on the plate that had held a few crackers and a piece of cheese. "It's just not fair.. Fuck this." With another exasperated sigh, she got up and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I'm going to go work out."

"Again?" Yvonne asked.

"Yes, again," Brittney snapped. Her weight was hard to control and a rather sensitive subject. Most of the girls suspected she was simply anorexic or bulimic - fuck, at least half the girls in the house were - but no one guessed the real reason. She headed into the well-furnished and much-used home gym and got on the stair stepper to be alone with her thoughts. It bothered her that Belle could be so damn lucky.

And she was so smug about it, too, Brittney thought bitterly. There was no reason to be a pig in front of everyone. If she wanted to eat everything in the damn house, couldn't she just do it in private instead of driving everyone half crazy? Jesus. It was enough to warrant a cold shower. Something had to change. Karma needed to smack this Belle bitch across the face and soon.

Yvonne approached quietly and got on the treadmill next to Brittney's machine, but just kept a walking pace.

"You shouldn't make such a big deal out of it," the friend murmured. "Let her be. It'll catch up to her eventually."

"Bullshit. I'm just so.. tired of it. We need to do something about her." Brit stared straight ahead, her jaw clenched as she did the grueling exercise. Her thighs already burned.

"Like what?" Yvonne asked. She knew her best ally in the house was sort of nuts, but went along with her anyway. "Making her fat or something?" The words were sarcastic, but they immediately registered as a plan in Brittney's head. She stopped taking steps and landed on the floor gracefully as the machine dumped her off. For a moment she continued to stare straight ahead before her head snapped to the side to stare directly at Yvonne.

"Yes. Exactly like making her fat." The gleam in her eye and the twisted grin on her face gave Yvonne a sinking feeling in her stomach, but she just nodded.

"Let's do it, then."