Margaret should not have been up at 5:38 AM.
 
Nobody should be.
 
She had a mission, however. As she poured the liquid in her beakers from test tube to test tube, allowing the chemicals to coalesce and combine into a viscous aquamarine mass. With a smile, she grabbed the car battery hook ups and clipped them to her electrical conduit, zapping the slime with as much electricity as grey market batteries can give. It bubbled loudly, errant globs popping out and flying over the room, some hitting Margaret, but she was too busy smiling to care. As she unhooked the car battery, she looked over her creation.
 
It sat there lifelessly.
 
She frowned and slumped back in her chair regretfully. 800 dollars in unmarked bills to a junkyard owner named Billy Bob down the drain… She began to pack herself up, sighing as she thought through what she might have done wrong, while in the background the slime stirred. It moved slightly, calling as much of its mass that it could back to it. Its piece wormed down the walls, crawling up cabinets and down shells as it reached the tube. The mass began to rock the beaker back and forth, knocking it over and spilling into a pile of sugar. It soaked it up, growing exponentially bigger as Margaret finally turned around to face the slime.
She froze.
 
It was massive, already bigger than her and only growing. She froze in place.
The slime on her tingled. It detected the fire inside her, and the warmth delighted the slime. It would be a perfect place for it to stay.
 
The massive slime lunged for her.
 
It ran down her open mouth first, the vaguely watermelon-candy tasting ooze filling her stomach to capacity in seconds and quickly bloating further, forcing Margaret’s shirt up into a bra. It quickly expanded outwards, finding her fat cells and using them as a base for its new form. Suddenly her pants began to get tight, ass splitting as her breasts began to stretch through her shirt. Her nipples grew massive and thick as panties ripped off, exposing her buttocks which the slime used as a second entrance. She moaned as the lukewarm slime filled her hole, trying not to get lost in pleasure as her mind darted in terror.
She was getting past 500 pounds now with no signs of stopping, her shirt tearing off of her top. Her pants and panties went next, leaving her flower exposed for the slime to force its way up. Her rate of fattening increased even further, ass becoming beanbags, then airbags, then bouncehouses. Her belly spilled outward, pushing into shelves and pushing her back. Her breasts hung to her side, almost reaching the floor as her exposed nipples leaked milk and slime. Her cheeks and chins made her face into a bloated parody, staircase under her chins and massive pillows to the sides of her mouth. As the slime finally began to end its assult, she sat there, panting loudly.
 
She could breathe, but her massive chest made it a bit hard. Each breath led to her sweating a little bit more, large rivulets of green-tinted liquid dropping down her face and sides. Her legs and arms were trapped in donuts, hands and feet barely able to wiggle. Her fat ass was facing the door, and with a sudden gurgle of her gut, she realized two things:
 
1.      She was hungry as all get out.
 
2.      She was very gassy.
 
With a loud PHRRRRRRRRRRARARARRRVTTTTT, her ass cheeks began to ripple and slap together, face squinting in pain and pleasure as a foul smelling stench exploded from her asshole. The smell reached her face quickly and she was forced to breathe it in, the disgusting stink hurting her head and driving her slightly crazy with lust. Her stomach groaned again, slime demanding more sustenance to make more of itself, and she belched loud and long, 10 seconds straight.
 
Suddenly, she heard footsteps down the hall. She tried to look behind her toward the door, but her immobility made that impossible. She could only sit there silently and fearfully as the footsteps grew closer.
 
Nobody should be up at 6:12 AM.
 
But somebody was, and was about to find why you shouldn’t be.