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Some may have called supper model Bridget Jenkins evil. A tool of the devil. However, what others perceived as nastiness, she saw as ambition. You had to be ambitious in this business to get on top. And then, to stay on top. So what if getting the high profile jobs initialed humiliating your opponents? Those where the breaks! And Bridget had humiliated her fair share of models! She had slipped itching powder into Debbie Harris' panties. The blond wasn't so sexy scratching her bum and genitalis... on national TV! A year ago, little Vanessa Jones almost unseated her.... but, a little ex-lax in her water before the spring show had fixed her. Imagine... a sexy dark haired bomb-shell filling her sexy little teddy with diarrhea. On stage! However, it seemed there was no rest for the wicked.
Now, it was Donna (just Donna). A gullible, superstitious southern beauty who had captured the hearts of all who saw her. And (despite her best efforts) Bridget still hadn't embarrassed the young woman. Several plots had failed: liquid heat in her panties, a whoopie cushion at a lunch in, even the classic Boom boom pills in the food had failed (and Linda was none to happy about her sudden "gastric disturbance".)
So, Bridget thought it was all over when she found out she had been replaced by Donna as the final girl in the latest show. Then, she realized she could use this loss to her advantage. They where modeling Jan Ordel's latest creation "fetish clothing". Rubber clothes. And the piece Donna was sporting was an skin tight, black latex-spandex body suit that covered her from head to toe. It was air tight... and that gave Bridget an idea.
That day, Bridget took Donna to lunch. And loaded her with bean's, chilli and broccoli. Donna sat at the table, gripping her sides. Around her, there where piles of dishes. There was one spoon full of beans left. "Oh Bridget! Thank you Soooo much! But, I can't eat another bite!" Bridget spoon up the last bit of beans. "Oh, come on! One more bite!" Giggling, Donna bent down and gobbled down the last bit. "Mmmmmm.... my! That was delish! Thank you Bridget!" "Don't mention it." Bridget said, smiling. "Oh, look at the time! We'd better get a move on!" the pair ran to the limo and scuttled in.
On the way to the show, Donna's stomach began to burble. "Oh! I hate to be rude, but I may just pass gas in a few secs here!" Bridget knew that was bad. Donna had to save all that gas for the stage. "NO!" she called as Donna turned a cheek. Donna had a puzzled look on her face. "Why?" she asked. "Because.... it's bad luck to fart before a show!" Donna plopped her butt back to it's place on the seat. "It is?" "Sure! Have you ever heard of Susy Holden?" Donna shook her head 'no'. "She farted before a show and a week later, her butt was covered in warts!" Donna gasped. Bridget nodded. "You'll have to hold it in until the last girl's out on stage . Then, let loose!" "But... I AM the last girl! won't someone hear?" Donna asked. "No no! All the girl's do it!" "Gosh, thanks for telling me Bridget." "Hey! What are friends for?"
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Donna was very uncomfortable that afternoon. She was rubbing her belly, which was slightly bloated. The hot gas bubbled at her ass hole, trying to escape. Donna clenched her cheeks together tightly. She leaned against the wall, moaning. Everyone was worried, commenting on how sick she looked. But when the lights came up and the music came on, Donna strolled out on stage with her fellow models. She had three outfits to go before the finish, where she walked out alone in the black suit. Then, Jan would talk about what rubber clothes symbolized and that was the end.
The show went off without a hitch and Donna was moments away from striding out onto the walkway. "Good luck!" Bridget said. Donna giggled. "Thanks! I hope I don't stink the place out!" She walked out onto stage and let out a PHURRT! She sighed. That felt good! So good that Donna didn't notice the suit had slightly inflated. She continued her slow walk, farting as she took every step. Poot, poot, poot! With every toot, the suit inflated a little more. She let out a huge BLOOOOOORTS! Which caused the suit to expand considerately! She finally noticed that her body was becoming rounder. "Oh! What's happening to me?!" Her waist was rounding out, her thighs and butt where getting bigger... even her arms where becoming plumper. Donna acted as if nothing unusual was happening. In her mind, however, she panicking. BLORT BLORT PoooooOOOoooOOooo! Her body fattened up more and more, her calves becoming inflated. She Began to waddle as she let out a PLORT! By now the crowed was reacting. Some were gasping, some where laughing, but most were snapping pictures! She became more and more globular as her arms began to stick out at forty-five degree angles. Humiliated, the gas filled orb tried to make a run for it... but couldn't move her legs.
By now, the other models had gathered at the curtain to laugh at their young, inflated peer. Donna was HUGE! There was so much PRESSURE! Her suit was now bulging up around her face. Her legs and arms had merged with the rest of the suit. And she just kept tooting. PLORT POOOOOONT....PLAP PLAP! Larger and larger she grew until the rubber began to stretch. "Ohhhh! What's... going.... on?" Donna screeched. Suddenly, a BOOM! Rocked the room. The suit exploded at the fanny, releasing smelly gas and sending Donna fling through the air like a popped balloon. The crowd gasped and fanned their faces. Donna lay, face down, her bum showing out the big hole in the butt of the outfit. The room was filled with noxious gas. The crowd fanned their faces and moaned, flash bulbs popping. Bridget just giggled.
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What's left is epilog; Donna was forced out of modeling. She moved back to the south, put on 300 pounds and became a bean farmer. She's eats what she grows; perhaps that explains the mysterious green fog surrounding her property. Bridget continued to dominate the industry; at least until Lizzy showed up. But, that's another story....
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