Starr groaned in ecstatic agony, as she leaned back into the couch of the Yeng Product testing lab, trying to sooth her overtaxed stomach, while also trying to eat more sour cream through a ladel. Starr was one of Dr. McCarthy's most successful projects. Once a promising high school athlete, Starr had nearly quadrupled in size in the months since she began sampling products. She'd developed a very lovely double tiered belly, and her small breasts had become huge, flat, shapeless things. It provided helpful data in adipose development predictions. The fact that she came covered in tattoos, which became distorted and distended as even her arms formed rolls, folding over themselves, was a nice aesthetic plus. While physical growth was a byproduct of their business model, not a benchmark as far as Yeng's higher up's were concerned, things could be a little different in Dr. McCarthy's research unit.
Added to her tasks of soothing her stomach, she as trying to give Dr. McCarthy coherent answers and do some actual product feedback. "It's like...it's not like I'm hungry, but I just have these weird cravings for things. I want to eat...I want to eat just the same thing, forever, sometimes, you know?" She punctuated her answer with a wet belch, and then went back to focusing on more sour cream. Because she was so exhausted, and because she wouldn't stop eating to answer questions, she was making a mess of herself, smearing sour cream on her face and cleavage. It was hard to tell if she didn't notice, or didn't care.
So the project was going well. Dr Evie McCarthy picked up another gallon tub of sour cream and held it out for Starr, her long, elegant shapely limbs contrasted sharply with the pale and pondourously thick limbs of her test subject. They were opposites in every way, in fact, while she was a slender, disciplined professional, this girl was a pile of pudge with no self control. Could the girl stop? Could she even slow down? "And does that bother you?" she asked, more for her own curiosity. She had plenty of time to get back to the marketing research.
"Not really." Starr grunted. "It's just kind of weird. And sometimes I get like, actually hungry when I have a craving...but I can't stop."
"Well, if you're hungry, you should eat," Evie deadpanned while, inwardly, she felt a schoolgirl giddiness. This was going so much than she dared hope.
The sour cream was laced with a quasi-legal addictive substance. It was fairly standard practice. After all, sugar was addictive, and that's why all processed food in the US had some amount of sugar or corn syrup in. And since YS-423 was a homeopathic supplement, it fell into a legal limbo where there was no FDA oversight, technically allowing Yeng to use it as a sweetener as long as they were up front about it.
But on top of that, YS-423 did a number on the human metabolism, speeding (or "aiding") digestion, enhancing appetite, and numbing the stomach's nerve endings to diminish feelings of fullness.
"But if I ate a real meal, I couldn't get my sour cream fix." Starr complained
"Well, I suppose you can eat both," Evie mused. "If you promise to finish the meal, we'll let you keep your sour cream while you eat it. All right?"
"No! I just want to eat sour cream." She said, surprisingly sharply. She apparently had forgotten that she was supposed oto be testing what Dr. McCarthy told her to test.
Evie made a note on her clipboard ("subject grows uncooperative when faced with perceived loss of sour cream") and put her hands sternly on her hips. "Now, Starr, remember that you agreed to this testing. If you don't cooperate with me now, I will take the sour cream, and Yeng will eject you from this study with no compensation. Do you understand?"
"...OK." She grumbled, struggling and failing to cross her arms.
Evie nodded and moved outside to have a robotic aide bring the girl a real meal, then sat back down to observe. Watching Starr eat was a fascinating experience. She barely seemed to notice the world around her until Evie came in to ask questions. Nothing else existed but that bucket of sour cream. Did she even know that she'd been eating sour cream almost nonstop for two and half weeks? Evie was already planning for ways to keep her around long after the study was over. After all, Marketing didn't care what she did as long as she got results.
The robot approached Starr with a thick, juicy hamburger that was almost as big as the dinner plate it sat on, and an equally sized portion of thick home fries. Both topped with a ridiculous amount of cheese, bacon, onions, and more sour cream, and the provided drink was a two-liter of Yeng Cola. Naturally, all of it was laced with YS-423.
Before she could finish her fun though, Dr. McCarthy's cellphone buzzed. She only used it for work, so she knew it was important. It was from...
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