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Agent Holly Heifer
🕑 Added 2017-09-23 05:18:55 +0000 UTC Contest prize for ReikerCo, who submitted the following story for my Wonka Factory writing contest last month!***
The roar of the delivery truck’s tires rolling across the road was all that Agent Holly Hiefer could hear as she stuck to the bottom of it using her stealth suit’s magnetic abilities. She took this time to go over the debriefing of her mission in her head again. Normally the idea of an infiltration mission into a candy factory of all things would seem absurd to her. But then again her target was no ordinary person.
Malcolm Masters, a candy factory employee turned secret agent turned smuggler. During his time as her colleague Malcolm had earned himself the nickname “Agent Orange” a play on his status within the agency and his unusual looks. While the cause remained unknown to even him, Agent Orange had unnaturally orange skin and equally outlandish green hair. He was also strangely short for his age, but that only allowed him to get into areas that his colleagues couldn’t even dream of fitting. Holly remembered those days fairly well. Orange would constantly poke fun at her rather ample ass and how it kept her from getting into the vents that he managed easily. They would share a laugh after that.
But times change. People change. Or maybe it’s not that people change, but rather the masks they wear crack and fall away to show who they truly are.
Holly didn’t know what case it was with Orange.
One day he just didn’t show up at the agency. It was only weeks afterward that he was then tied to several smuggling rings and murders across the US. But by then it was too late, he was never to be seen again.
Until now.
As the delivery truck pulled into the building Holly recalled the details of her objective.
“Former Agent Orange has been sighted entering the old XXXXX XXXXX Candy Factory by XXXXXXX Village. Your mission is to infiltrate the building, find out what Orange’s motives are in being there, and determine how/whether it correlates the villager’s claims of activity going on in the factory.” She could remember one of her bosses telling her.
Once the coast was clear, Holly pulled herself from under the truck. Her dark blue bob cut hair framed her pale, slender face. Her stealth suit left little to the imagination, hugging every curve of her body. Accentuating her rather small rack, and quite large ass. The black material was meant to keep her hidden, with the belt around her waist providing tools for almost any situation. She began her trek deeper into the factory.
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“Should we send in the guards?”
“Against her? They’re as good as dead bossman.”
“Then what should we do Mr. Masters?”
“Leave it to me.” A short silhouette loaded it’s Tommy Gun as it paced out of the security room to meet up with the unexpected intruder.
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Holly soon found herself in a wide room whose walls were lined with tanks of different cream like chemicals. Aside from these churning concoctions, the room was rather empty save for the walkways that provided a path overtop of the vats. As Holly snuck around the room looking for any sign of a guard or even a janitor, she found nothing.
‘This is too ea-’ Her thought was cut short by the sound of a stream of bullets digging their way into the tank she hid behind. “Damnit!” She exclaimed in a hushed whisper. She looked out from behind her cover to see her attacker. The one and only Agent Orange, decked out in a pinstripe suit and smiling wickedly as he shot at her. Unfortunately for him, guns still had to reload. Holly took this time to hop up to the walkway that he stood on, straight overtop of one of the tanks.
Wasting no time she charged at him and knocked the now reloaded gun out of his hands and onto the far side of the walkway. The two engaged in hand to hand combat. At first it would seem as though they were on an equal playing field, but closer inspection would reveal that Orange’s size allowed him to easily outmaneuver Holly’s attacks. This evasion allowed him the chance to knock Holly down and grab his gun. Yet Holly was still fast and a tussle ensued for control of the firearm. A stream of bullets was let loose straight up into the ceiling, detaching a large light fixture and sending it careening towards the walkway. Orange took notice of this and shoved Holly with the gun to the ground as the fixture fell on top of her. Orange clung on for dear life as he climbed his way to stable footing while the walkway collapsed beneath his feet, taking Holly into the tank of chemicals below.
SPLASH
The collapsed metal pinned Holly to the floor of the tank, ensnaring her ankle like a ball and chain. She tried pulling her leg out, pushing the metal away, and simply attempting to swim away. All of her efforts proved useless to her now. Her lungs screamed for air as she began to panic. ‘To think that of all the missions to die on, it had to be the candy factory one.’ She thought to herself. It was then that she remembered her belt contained a small cutting laser. With one last ditch effort, Holly pulled the laser from her belt and attempted to cut her leg out of the metal. By the time she was free she had no choice but to gulp the chemicals just as she was about to exit the liquid…….
Holly came bursting out of the tank, flinging herself to the floor in a wet heap. As she lifted her head up, she could make out the laughter coming from behind her. Agent Orange stood there on the walkway, having hoisted himself away from the collapsed segment and onto stable footing. Holly hoisted herself up to confront the small man, the slight shift in her center of balance going unnoticed by her rage filled self.
“What’s so funny?” She spat at him.
“So you really don’t know eh?” He responded with a sly grin. “I guess your bosses know less than I realized.”
“What do you mean?” Holly inquired as she reached to her belt to activate her hidden recorder. This time the back of her mind took notice of her belt sinking slightly more than was usual as she pressed it.
“Well ya see, this whole gig here is exactly what it looks like. The bossman really does want to start up the old candy business again. Maybe it’s nostalgia for the good ol’ days, perhaps it’s cause he really does like the joy the candy gave kids, ………..or maybe he just has a hard on for making candy. I don’t know the details, and I don’t care for them. All I need is the cash this gig is reeling in for me.” Orange claimed as he leaned against the handrails of the walkway.
Noticing the growing grin on his face, Holly pressed further. “But you’re a murderer who specializes in smuggling. What business would you have at a candy factory?” She grilled, failing to notice how she had to reorient herself every so often in order to account for some growing weight she felt on her.
Orange did notice this however. ‘Showtime.’ He thought to himself while retorting her verbal questioning. “But ya see Hiefer, the thing about the candy business is how expensive it is nowadays to get the FDA approved ingredients. The bossman couldn’t possibly begin operations again with those kinds of prices.” He said as he hopped from the walkway onto the ground. “So that’s what our deal revolves around. I get him some cheaper alternatives and in return he gives me a 40% cut of any profit. Given how those porkers from the village used to gawk at the sight of the factory alone, I assumed that’d be a good enough deal.” Orange calmly approached Holly.
BEEP
The distinctive beep of Holly’s recording device sounded as she ended the taping. With a cocky sneer she proclaimed, “Thank you for your cooperation. This tape will bring your little candy operation down Orange, and you with it.”
But the surprise and fear that Holly expected to be strewn across Orange’s face was nowhere to be found. In its place was a devilish sneer as he stated “Given that highly concentrated sugar compound you swallowed back in that tank, I should be the least of your worries right now Heifer!”
The following poke to her gut finally forced Holly to look down at herself for the first time since she got out of that chemical tank. What she saw horrified her.
Her toned stomach was no more, a meaty muffintop having taken its place. Her belly stuck out in front of her like the slab of excess flesh it was. Her ass was even worse. What was once firm to the touch now flared out like a shelf. The limits of her skintight suit were being tested by each cheek alone. The pillar-like legs that supported them were equally as chunky, forcing bubbles of flesh to rise out of the forming tears in her suit like loaves of bread in an oven.
Holly was in absolute shock. No words came from her mouth as she scanned her whole body over and over. Her arms now had bingo wings that would have been flapping about had they not been confined in her suit. Even her fingers were layered with noticeable pudge. Were she with access to a mirror, Holly would have no doubt seen chipmunk cheeks and a double chin on her formerly sculpted face. As she processed all of this and the initial shock of her weight gain began to wear off, yet another observation came slamming down onto her.
She was still gaining weight.
Holly could feel her suit getting tighter. Each pound of fat that the sugar compound released into her body forced more and more into a suit that was not built to handle it. The high tech belt that Holly kept with her, that had gotten her out of so many previous jams before, that had the evidence she needed to finish this mission, was sent flying across the room with a load SNAP! Yet even with the belt no longer being a pressure on her stomach, Holly still felt like a packed sausage in her clothing. A sudden surge of growth in her behind wrenched what little balance Holly’s titanic legs still had away from them and she was sent crashing to the ground. The resulting ripples formed a chain reaction that spread all across the surface of her supple body, causing the rest of Holly’s suit to quite literally explode off of her body in a spectacular fashion leaving her in nothing but the shredded remains of her bra and panties.
She was so fat that she ripped apart the most indestructible fabric the agency had.
Throughout all of this, Agent Orange looked to be enjoying the sight of his former colleague turning into a blob of flesh before his very eyes. However business was business after all, and how could work be continued in this room if the fat cow wasn’t moved soon? “Yeah, she’s been dealt with.” He spoke into his earpiece while maintaining his gaze on Holly’s expanding body. “Looks like you got lucky today Frank. This time you’ll only have to bring the forklift. What? Yes I’m sure that we definitely don’t have another chopper lift situation here Frank. Just get over here quick. I want this operation back in gear as soon as the repairs to the tank and walkway are made.” The short man cut off the conversation there, leaving no room for his accomplice to argue on the matter more.
By this point Holly had accepted her fate. Her stomach cascaded down to the floor, reaching nearly past what used to be her knees. Her feet could no longer touch the ground thanks to her overwhelming cankles. Her breasts got the least attention during her expansion, but nonetheless were now gigantic sacks of sensitive flesh that had somehow maintained a level of perkiness throughout the whole ordeal. Holly’s arms could now barely move, their fat making them an immense burden to even shift much less lift. What was mere minutes ago a perfect face that would’ve landed her an instant modeling career was now so bloated with fat that Holly could only talk with immense effort.
Yet nothing compared to the monster that was her ass. Ever since the initial growth surge Holly’s ass had been growing at a rate twice that of any other part of her body. It had gotten so huge that it acted as a gigantic pillow for her, propping her up in a sitting position on the floor of the factory. Each cheek looked like a boulder of pale meat, smooshing and squishing into their own rolls of fat. Holly had reached such a point of apathy that even when her weight gain stopped, she could find no celebration in it. What was the point? How would she ever be able to walk again, much less complete her mission?
A factory employee soon arrived with a forklift, and although it had some troubles lifting her (the man grumbled something about this definitely being a “chopper lift” incident) she was eventually lifted from the ground and hauled away from the room.
“Where….am I…*pant*...being taken?” Holly panted out with her now husky voice.
“Where all the other freaks go.” The man replied. “You think you’re the first case of something like this? No way in hell. Some are genuine accidents, others are ones the bossman just wants gone, but sometimes it’s these weirdos who do it to themselves on purpose to get their rocks off. We’ve already got like what, four other chicks in here tonight alone? Anyways, here’s your new home cow.”
A door opened to reveal a room filled with women like Holly. Some were shaped like fruit, others were simply blobs of fat, yet still more floated around as if they were balloons. Holly’s observations were cut short as the forklift violently dropped her in an empty spot. Surprisingly her newfound fat kept the impact from doing much more than violently jiggling her massive body.
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Two men watched the video feed of the Keeping Room’s newest guest. To the untrained eye it would look like both men were enjoying it greatly, but those who looked real close would have seen the shorter man’s smile twitch to a frown as the taller man congratulated him on a job well done.
