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WEEK 1
SCP-049 has been making some strange requests to the foundation’s staff lately. Stranger than usual. It wasn't unheard of for him to ask for more ‘test subjects’, especially now that the foundation has allowed humans to be given to the ‘plague doctor’, at a controlled rate, and for research purposes.
However, the humanoid has also been requesting food from the staff. This also wasn't unheard of, as he’s one to occasionally dine on a supper, or snack throughout a day to help keep his morale up while he worked on his subjects. But the amount of food was more than someone of his size would require, and considering that he doesn't need to eat, it just perplexed the scientists more.
After his demands were met the day prior, one of the scientists familiar with 049 had asked him to sit and talk about the events of yesterday.
“Hello SCP-049. How are we feeling today?” The man in the lab coat asked, clicking his pen as he sat down with a form to fill out, the humanoid sitting across from him.
“... I have been feeling a tad groggy lately, if it so concerns you, Doctor. But it shouldn't be any concern…A minor setback, that’s all it is.”
The scientist wrote across the paper, humming briefly before looking back up at 049. Something was off about him…Like he was bothered by something going on with him.
“No, no, elaborate. What seems to be the issue, 049?” The human doctor leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table with his pen set down, showing genuine concern.
“I've told you, it’s none of your concern! Just…Nerves, that’s all it is. Yes, it must be my nerves getting to me after having so much work to do…” The plague doctor grumbled as he looked off to the side, perhaps thinking to himself as he ignored the staff member sitting opposite him. “...Whatever the cause may be, I can assure you it will be only temporary. That being said, I'll need another delivery of food…And I'll need more than last time…”
The doctor sighed briefly, leaning back with an exasperated look.
“You're eating this food, right? But you don't get hungry, and you've said as much that you only enjoy the taste and feeling it gives you to eat. But why would you need so much? No normal person can eat 5 pounds of venison on their own-”
SCP-049 slammed his hands on the table, interrupting the good doctor.
“Are you implying there’s something wrong with me? I can and will eat as much as I deem fit, or so help me, I'll leave you to die by the pestilence!”
Ah yes, the ‘pestilence’. The dubious illness that may or may not exist. Regardless of the authenticity of its existence, that threat may actually have some weight, especially if you look at it through 049’s perspective.
The awkward silence hung on that semi-empty threat, before the Victorian figure sat back down, arms crossed.
“...Alright. Okay. We’ll uhh…We’ll keep giving you the food you want. No one’s dying from the pestilence today, alright?”
“Not if I can help it.”
Before the head scientist could fully pick up his belongings and leave in a hurry, he noticed something strange. Was 049’s gut…Chubbier? It’s questionable if that can even be considered a gut, or if the organs that 049 may possess even serve the same purposes as human organs do. But still…It looked like this humanoid was packing a bit more weight. The scientist shook the thought off, choosing to think nothing of it as the staff started to gather what was necessary for 049’s next delivery…
WEEK 2
The next day, the guards that monitored SCP-049 said they've noticed strange behavior from the subject they're in charge of. Grumpiness, some uncomfortability when alone to himself, and apparently, the appetite is still going strong.
As the second doctor's visit began, 049 was actually the first to speak, and rather urgently at that.
“Did you…bring any food, Doctor? I don't feel comfortable speaking without food today.”
“I'm sorry, I…Don't have anything on me. I can make sure to bring something next time, though.”
“Bah, damn it all…”
Once again, 049’s personal doctor sat down and took out his pen, ready to take notes. Now that he was in the room with 049, he noticed that the pudginess from before was much more noticeable and pronounced, almost like the plague doctor was, in fact, gaining weight.
And it was while he was noticing this that 049 actually brought a hand to his gut, looking almost embarrassed that his physician noticed it.
“Stop staring at me.”
“S-Sorry, sorry…”
A growl was heard, and despite the human’s curiosity, he kept his eyes to himself, continuing to write on the form.
“Erm…Is there anything different or that’s changed since we last talked? Any signs or symptoms of fatigue, sluggishness, exhaustion?”
“Yes, I…I suppose I've been rather slow when it comes to my work…”
The subject looked embarrassed to have this pointed out to him, but it must've been an issue if he admitted to it and was willing to say what was wrong.
“Now we’re getting somewhere. When did these feelings start? Would this have to do with the food you've been requesting?”
SCP-049 stayed silent, looking off to the side for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and looking back towards the human.
“Yes…I've been eating more and more lately, thanks to how stressful my work has been, and the possibilities I can achieve with these new human subjects has been…a bit overwhelming…”
The doctor listening scribbled these feelings down, but looked up to acknowledge the subject on an empathetic level.
“Stress eating can be a coping mechanism for changes to routine and feelings of being overwhelmed…Tell you what, tomorrow, I'm gonna do something special for you, don't you worry.”
The plague doctor looked up, almost excitedly, but quickly tamed himself, holding up his reputation for being angsty and distant.
With that, the physician walked out with a smile, satisfied that he found out what the problem was, and what he could do about it.
WEEK 3
“Did you keep every bit of food out of the room, like I requested?”
“Yes sir, 049 hasn't had a scrap to eat since you last spoke to him…”
The doctor was delighted to hear that, and got ready for what was to come next. As the doctors met again, the subject seemed particularly anxious and needy.
“I don't know what you’ve done, but I demand that you give me food. I can barely function, I need something to distract myself with.”
Just like the doctor expected, 049 has gotten desperate and needy, wanting that release of stress eating. He pulled a candy bar out of his pocket, setting it down on the table in front of the subject.
“Ah, well, you're in luck. Because I remembered to get that treat I promised you…And I brought even more gifts.”
The doctor gave the signal, and that’s when a crew of staff members brought out multiple baskets, full of food, drinks, candy and snacks, as per the physician's request.
While they were bringing all of this food out, the scientist himself wrote down on his papers, same as always. Almost as if bringing in this frankly disgusting amount of food was a normal, everyday occurrence.
“Please, feel free to…Um…Indulge.”
The cameras were rolling, and 049 was free to feast as much as he wanted to. And he did want to. All of the food looked delicious, and absolutely satisfying to eat.
And so, while the doctor kept his gaze down at his paperwork, the SCP quickly pounced on the opportunity to feast like a king. Diving right in, he pulled out some sandwiches out of the first basket, and started to eat without hesitation. It was well known that no medicine or sedative could work on the subject, so 049 had no worries about the food being tampered with in any way other than taste, and the food tasted good, so there was nothing to worry about.
As the plague doctor started to chow down, his abdominal region started to rumble. Perhaps this SCP does have a stomach, one that can be empty or yearning for food? Regardless of his anatomy, the only thing 049 was focused on was eating, trying to make up for the days he had gone without the comfort foods he had come to rely on for stress relief.
It didn't take long before the first basket was already half empty, and that was when the head scientist noticed something…Peculiar, to say the least. As 049 ate more and more, his gut looked more distended as time went on. It was like the food wasn't being digested or processed enough to shrink down and not show as much. But that didn't stop 049 from continuing to indulge.
The physician felt a need to comment or continue the usual interrogation, but something about the frantic and urgent way 049 was eating made him reconsider, and instead watch as the subject had now moved on to other forms of food.
Slowly, the more 049 ate, the fuller his gut looked. His ‘belly’ soon looked like it didn't match the rest of his body, still idly growling and groaning from ‘hunger’. Soon enough, the subject actually took a brief break from eating, sounding both relieved and a bit out of breath.
“...I'll assume the food meets your requirements…”
“Nonsense, it’s surpassed my every expectation. My compliments to the ones who made all of this; I cannot express enough gratitude.”
With that, the SCP opened up a thermos of water, and started to drink rapidly, bordering on chugging. With every gulp, the thirst was only quenched momentarily. There was no doubt that this would also result in a more rounded out stomach. Sure enough, that came to be. SCP-049 was hardly ever seen acting out in such a selfish way, in terms of actions, at least. He could be selfish when it comes to beliefs or goals, but he’d always discipline himself from acting on instinct alone. But he needed this meal, if you could even call it that.
As more food was wolfed down, that gut got noticeably bigger, the hide making this plague doctor’s 'outfit’ slowly getting more stretched out, resulting in more unusual noises emanating from his midsection. Panting breaths could even be heard as despite being more than full enough to be content, 049 continued to press on, gulping down plenty of water and sustenance.
The physician, who remained awkwardly silent throughout this whole endeavor, simply watched this all take place, even looking around the room, mildly discomforted. Should he leave the subject to gorge themselves out? Or stay in case he takes a break soon, to perform the usual checkups?
049 started to properly chug the rest of the water in the thermos, multiple needy gulps being heard even on the recording cameras. He soon put a hand on his protruding stomach, letting out a grunt as he was close to finishing the container off.
It was almost like he was trying to prove some sort of point, as if the physician said “I bet you can't eat all of this food in under 20 minutes”, and 049 took it personally. But that wasn't what happened. He chose to eat this quickly and hungrily, and his grumbling stomach voiced its disagreement with this decision.
Finally, the thermos came down with a SLAM , and a huff from the Victorian doctor. His hand soon rubbed along his belly, letting out a disgusted whinge as it wobbled around slightly in his grasp, the space now mostly filled with water.
“Urgh…This may take a while…” He grumbled, looking over at the next basket as if it were another test subject for him to work on. His hand continued to rub his midsection idly, perhaps calming it down?
The short lived break came to an end, and 049 continued to pick and dig through the selection of food and treats, though at a slower, more casual pace.
“R-Right…Well, would you want to answer some questions while you…Do…That?” The head researcher almost felt like it was intrusive to ask that question, not wanting to come across as interrupting the apparently much needed feast.
“...Right. Carry on then.” 049 gave his overseer permission to ask more questions, but proceeded to take a bite out of a particularly succulent fruit.
“Well, if I may ask a question that isn't in my form, erm…”
That taut, stretched skin only showed a fraction of how full 049 could get, who at this point didn't seem to even chew his food. The black, almost latex-like skin stretched out past where the hanging robe usually concealed, and the rate of ‘growth’ and swelling continued evermore…
“...Nevermind. Would you say that eating food still helps you focus more on your work?”
Despite having asked it, the question couldn't be less of an important issue in the physician’s mind right now. The subject was eating more than enough food to feed a family or two, and he was still going.
The plague doctor, instead of answering, responded with a low groan, looking down and holding his rounded abdomen.
“...That’s not very appealing, is it?”
Despite him noticing and clearly being against this shape he’s taken, he still felt the need to rip open another package of potato chips, grabbing handfuls to eat.
When the human doctor looked down to write down his notes, he heard a can opening. He normally didn't bat an eye at it, but by the time he realized what could come of it, it was already too late; 049 had already chugged the whole damn thing.
Just as they feared, there was soon a gurgling noise from 049’s now rumbling stomach, and he soon groaned along with it as his hand now clutched his gut. The bubbling soda was clearly agitating the already stressed and tight belly, and the plague doctor, despite being uncomfortable with this, reached out for another piece of bread.
“I must…Keep eating…”
“As your physician, I would advise that you take a brea-”
“Do not tell me what to do. I know what’s healthy and what’s…Nnh…Not healthy…”
With a hesitant look at the bread, 049 swallowed his pride and quickly showed it into his mouth, closing his eyes as he just tried to quickly swallow it and move on to the next. It seems even 049 wasn't too keen on taking up so much time eating.
Piece after piece, serving after serving, that gut was getting fuller with every bite. Even as 049 grumbled and huffed in frustration and uncomfortability, he continued to shove more down his throat, which only weighed down his now distended gut even more. Another basket was down and out, thrown aside as the third one was considered, but ultimately left alone.
049 had finally caught up to himself, cradling his stomach as he felt he was at maximum capacity, despite his want to keep eating. He had to hold himself back at some point though, to at least let things settle a bit before picking up the pace again.
“Ghh…I may need to take a moment…”
“Please, take your time…”
The plague doctor leaned back in his seat, uncharacteristically showing some laid-back behavior as he looked down at himself and reflected.
“...I'll be back to normal in a couple days time…But the problem is that I still want to eat more…”
He eyed the third basket, clearly contemplating opening it up and seeing what he had to choose from inside. His mind said yes, but his gut told him to wait a couple minutes, and to maybe eat slower once he does continue.
Meanwhile, his caretaker cleared his throat, and laid his clipboard down on the table quietly.
“You still want more, huh? Well, that can be arranged, if that’s what you truly want.”
Considering that 049 just ate well over what a couple of people could eat in one sitting, he probably should've given him caution about what he asks for, even if it meant risking a wrathful yelling from the subject like he had gotten a week or two prior.
But that didn't seem necessary, as 049 waved his hand dismissively at the mere idea of more food while he was already so full and sluggish from this ‘meal’. He didn't need any help in putting a limit on himself now, it seems.
“Oh, gods no. I feel like I've gotten more than what I needed.”
With that, the physician almost gave a sigh of relief. Even though 049 wasn’t exactly human, it still irked him to see the humanoid stuffing its face, and gorging itself out.
“Well, with that out of the way, I think we’re done here…Though something tells me you want me to leave this food here for you.”
049 didn't verbally respond, only nodding in a strange display of embarrassment. Despite how far he went and how much the idea of more food disgusted him…He still wants something to fall back on, should he ‘need’ it.
“Hmph, alright then.” The doctor said, seemingly amused. “You know how to get more, should you find yourself…’Starving’ again.”
With that, the doctor stood up, tapping his papers against the table to quickly sort them together, before leaving the subject alone in the room.
WEEK 4
According to the reports from the rest of the staff, that little stunt worked. 049’s been requesting food less frequently than he used to, but he’s still getting a lot more than most people would be satisfied with. Maybe he’s ordering it in bulk, and just taking more time to eat everything before the next request?
Once more, a checkup was had between the two. Upon entering, it was noticeable right away that while 049 still had a gut, it had shrunken down considerably. It was also noticeable just how irritated and stressed out 049 was as he sat and fidgeted in his seat.
“Let's get this over with…I've been trying to limit myself, but it only makes me hunger more…”
Before the physician even had a moment to get his notes ready, he was already being brought up to speed on what’s been happening.
“Oh? You're still having stress eating issues?”
“Yes…And even though you get some twisted sense of entertainment from watching me struggle with it, I still look to you for help…”
“I don't take pleasure in watching you suffer, 049. I'm just trying to help you. And if eating was the way to do it, then by Jove, I was going to help you.”
“Spare me your explanations…Just tell me what you'll prescribe me next.”
The plague doctor’s belly rumbled, causing him to squirm a little in his seat. 049, uncomfortable? There’s been stranger things that’ve happened…
The doctor hummed in thought, and asked a question, both out of curiosity and because it had to do with an idea forming.
“Tell me, can you…Ingest food any other way?”
“I…Don't follow.”
“I, erm…What I mean is, sometimes medicine is taken as a suppository, and I-”
“Oh, good heavens! I'm going to forget you even thought about asking me such an inappropriate question!”
“Sorry, just…Trying to brainstorm.”
The subject crossed his arms, an idle grumble from his stomach being joined by a similar one from 049 himself.
“Well, is the problem from eating too much, or not getting enough from your eating? Maybe some chewing gum could help? Or…do you even chew?”
“No. Not usually. Waste of time, if you ask me.”
“Right, just asking.”
The doctor was frankly getting a little tired of the subject’s attitude and their blunt way of speaking, but cast his inner thoughts aside to continue coming up with ideas.
“For what it’s worth…” 049 started, “I don't think the problem is eating too much…It’s not like I have to stay in shape, right?”
“I…suppose not. You're not obligated to be in shape, nor will you be seen by anyone other than me and your guards.”
049 seemed to grin at that, and leaned back in what looked like relief. “Then I’ll continue to eat until I'm satisfied. There are no objections, correct?”
“Technically, it would be inhumane to deny you normal food, if that’s what you want for your eating needs…”
The doc gave another signal, and another couple of baskets were brought in, just like last week. 049 noticed that his preferred foods were more abundant than last time, which means that somebody noticed what he liked and disliked. However, there was also that uncomfortably gaseous soda, and…breath mints? The subject seemed confused.
“Just…Save those for last, 049. As a last resort.”
The subject shook his head at that, ignoring them and going straight for the bread, which he quickly devoured with a delighted noise. The head doctor brought out his watch, clearly knowing that this was going to take a while.
A couple of minutes into this ‘feeding’, 049 was enjoying himself like usual, stuffing himself with reckless abandon and making his gut fill up once again.
The caretaking physician noticed something else, and this time, spoke up first before thinking about if he should or not.
“Are your thighs bigger?”
Hang on, what a weird thing to ask! 049 looked down, and…Damn, they were. After all of this eating, it must've quite literally gone to his hips and thighs, plumping them up enough for the SCP to have taken a wider than usual stance when sitting. The leathery black skin of 049 made them look nice, though, and having this pointed out to him didn't seem to turn him away from tearing into another whole chicken.
“...Interesting…”
The researcher pulled out his pen to, what else? Take notes. And this time around, 049 didn't seem to mind how much his caretaker was looking at him, though didn't indulge in posing or moving for him to see more. Still, those plump thighs were nice and jiggly whenever he moved.
That stomach started to gurgle again, distending slowly with every handful of food it received. 049 would groan slightly, placing a hand on his gut before continuing as usual.
Something caught his eye…The cans of soda, and the sleeve of mints…What was the deal with those? Mints aren't filling, and while soda can be filling, it wasn't a substitute for actual fattening sustenance.
“What are those for?”
The doctor looked up, and saw 049 curiously point at the cans and mints, before letting out a little chuckle.
“I told you, last resort only. That’ll fill you up quite a bit if you take them both at the same time.”
“But they're just breath mints…It would be a different story if they were dehydrated food packets or something, but they're just little discs, made of nothing but sugar…”
049 picked up the sleeve, reading along the side. The physician stayed silent, watching instead of stepping in and trying to take away the mints.
“...You know you can't stop me if I start taking these, Doctor.”
“I’m aware…”
With a few more seconds of silent contemplation, the subject unwrapped the mints, and reached for a can of soda. He looked up at the human for guidance, but he just raised his hands, silently saying “you're on your own, bud”.
With a hiss, the can of soda was opened, and because 049 couldn't fit the mint through the opening to push into the soda, he just shrugged and took a few mints, swallowing them whole before chugging a can of that carbonated beverage. With a slam, the can was empty, and…Nothing.
The physician was waiting, expecting some kind of reaction from 049’s belly. But nothing happened.
“Hmm…Perhaps I didn't take enough.”
Again, before he could be interrupted, the subject popped open another can, and took the rest of the mints before chugging that too. Still, nothing.
“Hmph. Whatever it was, it didn't work.”
“R-Right…Maybe it was just wishful think-”
-GLUB-GLLLNNNGNN…
049’s stomach started to quake , the plague doctor suddenly perking up in alarm as he then quickly clutched his gut, and it kept loudly groaning to anyone who would listen.
…GLUUUURRNNBLBL~
Even when held, it could be seen visibly shaking and rumbling. The ingredients were starting to mix…And maybe he shouldn't have taken that second ‘dosage’...
“Ghhhuh…What’s going on? It’s…Buh, fizzier than usual…”
049 kept his gaze on his gut, which, now that the reaction was set in motion, was starting to bellow out. That already pudgy gut was now filling up at a ludacris rate, and there was nothing either party could do to stop it. The SCP even covered his mouth, his exhales sounding like stifled burps trying to relieve the pressure.
“I-I’m hoping it’s not painful…” Said the doctor, sheepishly bracing for an outburst or other sudden reaction from 049.
It wasn't painful, but it was definitely uncomfortable. The bubbling and fizzing inside continued to shake and jostle the black-skinned stomach, filling it out and making it round out nice and taut.
An unexpected rush of carbonation inside of the SCP’s belly caused it to suddenly bloat out a good couple inches, having a bit of followthrough as 049 stumbled in his seat and clutched it with both hands and a huff.
“Gah, hnnhhh…”
It was surreal, hearing the plague doctor make such noises and exclamations. The recording of this session might have to be saved for later listening…
If 049 was wearing pants, they'd have busted open. If he was wearing a shirt, it would've risen up over his gut. But the technically nude humanoid’s stomach, as quickly as it bloated, started to settle down just as fast, the muffled fizzing slowly fading into little occasional quakes.
The SCP was left softly panting, having been taken on a wild, bloat-y ride thanks to this ‘unexpected’ combination. Both of his hands grasped his stomach, almost like he was making sure it wouldn't grow anymore. He finally looked back up at his physician, looking concerned for a moment before taking a deep exhale, and slowly but surely calming down.
“Ahem…Sorry, I-I…I've just never f-felt anything like that before…”
He tried to interlock his fingers and sit politely at the table, to not look indecent. But a quick gurgle caused him to slightly squirm in his chair, stifling a grunt to keep up that posh image.
The physician was absolutely speechless for a good awkward silence, gawking at 049 and his various ‘additions’. Chief among them, though, was that bubbly gut, which now looked a little under the size of a beach ball, and was oddly smooth as one too.
Finally able to find his words, the doctor spoke, though his voice was warbled and even shaky.
“W-Well, erm…I did warn you…”
He was right, and even as that midsection growled another threat of carbonation, he still cleared his throat, ignoring the elephant in the room.
“So, this has been… enlightening, to say the least. I'll have to watch the footage back again…See what else we can do to try and help you…”
049 had caught his eyes on his own gut again, letting out a whisper that could barely be heard. The physician didn't pursue it.
“I look forward to doing…Well, maybe not this, but- another check-up with you, in a week’s time. Unless you have anything you want to say or ask…?”
The subject was now prodding and poking his slightly jiggly belly, preoccupied and apparently fascinated with what happened to him.
“...I'll leave you to it…”
And with that, the doctor packed his notes up, and rather awkwardly left the room, both because of what happened and because of how he was strangely aroused from what was on display today…
Soon enough, the physician figured out a way to fix 049’s problem, and it was actually quite funny how simple it was: Just stop giving 049 human test subjects again.
And thus, that was what Week 5 was for: fulfilling every desire of 049’s, except for any human test subjects. Although he initially pushed back against the decision, he quickly came to accept that it might be the best course of action, and let off on resisting the change.
After they withheld the subjects, and thus the pressure of good performance, 049 steadily got back to normal…Mostly. Those thighs were still quite thick for a supposedly average sized humanoid, and he’d still occasionally gorge out on food and drink. But all in all, the SCP was finally back to a feeling of normalcy again. He no longer felt anxious about his performance, and although he was still a bit bigger than usual, his food intake drastically lowered.
When Week 6 rolled around, it was clear that a week of no human subjects did just the trick. 049 was no longer, erm…’enlarged’, and his appetite was back to his normal, evenly-paced rate he had before this whole test subject business started.
The doctor called for a check up in Week 6 just like he’d been doing every week prior, but this time, he had high hopes of good news!
“Nice to see you again, 049. I see you're back to normal!”
“Yes, everything’s back to the way it was. Well, mostly. I know my legs are still a bit plump and…’Thicc’, as they say.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“Some members of the security team…They think I can't hear them, but I do.”
“...And what does ‘thicc’ mean, in this context?”
“...Apparently, sexually attractive.”
The awkward silence after that statement was stunning, and the two occupants could imagine what fresh panic was incited in those poor guards, who might very well lose their positions over such comments.
“...Anyway, Doctor, I'm glad to say that I'm much more at ease than I was a couple of weeks ago.”
“Ah, well, it’s great to hear that you feel that way!”
The doctor smiled, looking down and filling in the appropriate box with that update.
“Yes, yes, very good, indeed. Though there was something I wanted to ask you about.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“...Could you bring in some more mints and drink some time?”
THE END