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Paula was going out of her mind, she was down to her last twenty dollars and if she didn’t find a steady source of income in a hurry she was gonna find herself out on the street!!! The rent was due in just three more day, no, make that three months rent was due in three days, and even though her landlord had been understanding of her problems, even a nice guy like Mr. Fuller would finally put his foot down sometime, and Paula was pretty sure that time would be this Friday!!! Restlessly she thumbed through the help wanted ads, when suddenly her eyes locked on an ad that read, “Women, Make Big Money Fast, No Experience Necessary, Start Tomorrow, Call 555-4321 and ask for Mr. Zolton”!!! Could this be the answer to her dreams, that she didn’t know, but as her hand reached for the phone, she sensed that her life would be changing forever!?!

“Please, have a chair, Miss Winters,” Ogden Zolton said easily, “I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place!?!” “Uh, no, not really,” she replied softly, “your directions were perfect!!!” “Good,” he replied while leaning back in his chair and lighting up a cigarette, “so tell me, Miss Winters, do you know what we do here, I mean how we make our money!?!” “No, I don’t,” she answered quickly, “your ad wasn’t too specific on anything, except for the fact that the money was good!!!” He smiled for a second, and after blowing out a long stream of smoke, nodded and replied, “The money’s very good, in fact I’d say it was excellent, how does five hundred dollars a day sound to you!?!” “F-five hundred,” she stammered, “did you say five hundred dollars per day!?!” “Exactly,” he shot back, “and there’s a chance it could even go higher!!!” Her head was swimming at the prospect of making so much money so quickly, but her good sense told her nothing was that easy, so in a wary voice she asked, “What would I have to do to earn that kind of salary!?!” “A very good question,” Ogden Zolton replied while getting up from his desk and motioning her to follow him as he opened the door, “let me show you and you can decide if you’re cut out for our kind of work!!!”

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The skinny girl, the one with the bony hips and the tits that looked like they got stuck on afterwards with modeling clay, just read you a list of your faults - I mean, like a list written on one of those long sheets of yellow paper with the blue and red lines for Pete’s sake - and you tell her to go to hell, as politely as possible. And as you walk down her stairway and out her front walk and start up your car, you realize that the big girl you met at your old friend Fred’s the other night, the one with the incredible green eyes and the big bouncy boobs and the little green shoes that looked like slippers, has been walking around in your brain, and now and then one of those little green shoes twangs the nerve that runs from your head to your dick. Laurie. Like a damn fool you didn’t get her phone number.

On the way home you drop by Fred’s place. Fred looks like a large bear. His house looks like where you’d expect a large bear to live. Stringy furniture. Not very much light. Books everywhere. Longnecks empty of home brew. Peanut shells on the floor (or are they acorn hulls?). Fred must have one of every computer Apple ever made. He does something with cars and computers for a living. You and Fred pop a couple of home brews. They say PHREDZ BIG BEAR BRAU in sort of fake German letters, done with a computer. You never forget your first Phredz. If you survive it, anyhow. “Yeah, Laurie’s something else. Teaches high school. Phone number.” He does something with a computer and her name and address and phone number eventually pop up on a screen. While the computer disks whir, your mind wanders back to Fred’s party the other night. Fred loves to roll back the peanut shells and turn on the old time rock and roll. You boogied with Laurie and watched her feet move in those little green shoes that looked like slippers. She wore a soft purple sweater and when her huge boobs bounced to the music her big nipples showed right through her bra and poked the backs of your hands. The skinny girl glared. The backs of your hands are still burning.

The computer prints out Laurie’s address and phone number. You gulp down the rest of the longneck. You go home and call Laurie. You feel like a high school kid. Even her voice has big boobs. Sure she’d like to have dinner at your place tomorrow evening. Her voice bounces “bye” and you put the phone down not quite believing it. You’ve got a date with Laurie. You fall into bed worn out. Suddenly your dick’s as hard as the nozzle on a fire hose. You think about those crazy nipples on the backs of your hands and you cry out “Laurie, Laurie, Laurie” when you cum. That’s all you remember.

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Sarah dressed as the doctor left the room. She couldn’t believe it! That bikini shoot in Malaysia had given her a rare tropical disease. At first she was afraid she would die from it, but the doctor said it was easily curable, but when he told her the cure and it’s side effects, she wished she could die. The cure was simple enough. A small incision into her neck and remove the infected portion of her pituitary gland and she would be almost as good as new. The ‘almost’ part was the killer. With part of the gland missing, her metabolism would slow down and she would gain weight — A LOT of weight. This wouldn’t do for a model. Actually, she was now a former model since the medication had already put 13 pounds on her. She rubbed the soft belly that had once rippled with muscle. The surgery was tomorrow. Soon this barely noticeable tummy would balloon into a basketball of pure flab. A tear slid down her cheek.

Sarah came to a groggy consciousness after the surgery. She could feel the bandage on her neck. Oh no! as groggy as she was, just moments after major surgery, she was hungry! RAVENOUSLY HUNGRY! Sarah stayed in the hospital for only 2 days. As expected her metabolic rate was slowing rapidly. She found she was sleeping more, but also she had this delightful feeling of peace, and inner calmness she hadn’t known since she was 13 and had begun her career as a model. She went home concerned, but oddly hopeful of her future. She was glad to be off the medication but she had still put on 5 more pounds in the 2 days since the surgery. Her clothes were tight; too tight. On the way home she stopped in a mall to get some new things. Sarah was shocked. The only things that fit were size 8! She had been a petite 6 only a month before! Even more surprising was the fact her bra was now too small. She needed a 36B. The off the rack clothes and the added fullness in her hips, chest and face totally changed her look. She was still pretty, of course, even beautiful, but that ’something special,’ call it glamour, that makes a top model was gone. In an instant, she knew what she had to do. She went to a beauty shop and had her hair re-styled and returned to its natural color. The effect was astonishing. Gone was Sarah Lane, model. In her place was Ann DeMarco, her real name.

It felt good to be Ann again. Her last stop was the supermarket. She filled her kitchen with all of the sights and smells of an Italian kitchen, that she had known and loved since she was a child. She prepared Veal Picante with pasta she made herself. The meal was a transitional experience for her. She had no financial worries, she had only had this lose of power that came with leaving modeling, but she would find a new way — a new life that would be more fulfilling than the old one. She looked around. This was a big house and she was determined to fill it with love and children.

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