This story contains consentual weight gain, with some mention of immobility. If this offends you, don't read it!
Dianne and I met quite by accident, at a local gas station. I still remember her first words to me: "Excuse me; could you help me get my top off?" Imagine my excitement when I turned and found the woman who spoke was a buxom amazon with long blond hair and a heartbreaking smile. Imagine my disappointment when I found she only wanted help with a stuck radiator cap.
I was glad to help her, just as I would any damsel in distress, not just because she had those broad hips, round butt, and of course those large, large breasts. It's true if she hadn't been so attractive I might not have helped so enthusiastically, but then maybe I wouldn't. I've never used a cry of pain as a pickup line before, but it seemed to work. At any rate, she agreed to go out with me Friday.
For our first date we went to an Italian place. You can probably tell I like big women; the size, the curves, the softness; all drive me wild. What I don't understand is why any guy WOULND'T like a woman with a little extra flesh. Or a lot. What I like most though is watching large ladies grow and become even larger. With this in mind I carefully noted what she ordered: Diet soda, which told me 'I think I'm fat' and fettuccini Alfredo, which told me 'but I'm not dieting right now.' I could live with that, I suppose. It's her body.
It turned out that Dianne and I had a lot in common. We were both fairly quiet, introspective people; we found we liked a lot of the same books and our tastes in music were identical. And of course, I liked fat girls and she was a fat girl; that was a good start right there!
As I found the first night, she really didn't like being heavy, though, but at the moment she wasn't dieting. This held true for the first few weeks we were going together. Once I brought her chocolates; she loved the attention and thought it was romantic, but she complained how fat they would make her.... And then she ate the box in a couple of days.
No, she wasn't happy with her size; I could tell by the way she dressed. Everything she wore was designed to disguise her true figure. For work she always wore a coat or vest; just bumming around, she wore huge baggy T-shirts and sweats that could have held two of her. Of course, none of this worked in the least. Seriously, at 5'11" and about 300 lbs., people just can't help noticing, and if she thought a baggy sweatshirt could disguise the size of those breasts, well, look in a mirror, Dianne!
As was only natural, after a short while we ended up in bed together, and it was only then I realized just how sensitive she was about her weight. She came out of the bathroom in Mother-Hubbard nightgown. It's just about impossible to hide a shape like hers, but she tried. Then she wanted to turn out the lights before she disrobed. When I told her how much I wanted to see her, she became so embarrassed I was afraid she would start to cry.
A virgin? No, there had been a couple of guys in college, I found, but she said they lost interest in her and broke it off; she had always blamed her weight, thinking she was just too fat to be attractive. I liked her more-than-plump figure, but I quickly found it wasn't good a good idea to tell her that. I could tell her she was beautiful. She liked that, though she didn't believe it. It was okay to say I loved her face, or hair, even her toes, but if I mentioned what a cute butt she had, I knew I wouldn't get to see it again for a month. The worst thing was that, to me, she was the most attractive girl I had ever dated. Actually, I thought those college guys might have felt the same way but found Dianne's hang-up to be just too frustrating.
Why didn't I feel the same way? I had to face it: I really loved Dianne. She was smart; she was funny, and the two us just clicked, somehow. And yes, she had this awesome body, too; that didn't hurt, I'll admit.
As we became more intimate, I quickly found out that there were certain things I shouldn't do, places I shouldn't touch. No, not that place; no problem there. But her tummy, soft and round and sexy as could be, was off limits. Oh, I could put my arms around her, maybe hug her tight, but stroke it, knead it, kiss it? No way!
"It makes me so ashamed, Steven; I've gotten better, you know I have, but you'll touch my fat and all of a sudden all I can think of is how huge and ugly I am." Gently pinching the rolls of fat on her sides or back produced the same reaction. Oh... and once I was kissing her chin, her cheeks, her neck, and she was loving it... until she realized I was nibbling on that cute little double chin, and she pulled away. Sigh.
I made a point to always tell her how lovely she was, and how great she looked. Not just 'Hey, baby, them big 'ol titties sure get me hard!' either... well, not all the time. After a few months, I could tell it was having an effect, too. We forgot about making love with the lights off, and she even started wearing sexy lingerie. She didn't flinch if I touched her belly, or those little fat folds at her elbows, or the dimples at her knees.
She even became proud of the way she looked, or at least some features. She began to pay a lot more attention to her hair and makeup, and her clothes lost some of that baggy, shapeless quality. When summer came, she lost the coats and vests at work, too; she started wearing shorts a lot more, and bought her first swimsuit in several years.
She still didn't care for the idea that I loved the way she looked because she was fat, not just in spite of it. And of course I wasn't about to tell her I wanted her even fatter. I was doing my underhanded best in that regard already, though.
"Steven, would you mind telling my why there is a cheesecake in the fridge? And I thought we agreed we would get the low-fat chips from now on."
"I forgot... Sorry." I hadn't forgotten, and I was only sorry she had noticed. Maybe I could get low fat chips, toss the chips, and put the real thing in the bag? Nah... too much work, not to mention dishonest. "And I just thought the cheesecake looked good."
"That's the problem... it looks TOO good. Tonight, or tomorrow, I'll see it and think "one little piece wouldn't hurt' and before you know it I'll have a new roll of fat to add to all these others." She had put on about forty or fifty pounds since we had met; asking her for an exact number would just have upset her. It was easy to see, though, that she was bursting out of all her old clothes; literally, in some cases. I thought it was great!
"You look wonderful. I would love you at any size." Which was technically true, I suppose, but given a choice I would prefer larger.
"You're sweet for saying that, but I know better." She paused, then said the words I had been dreading. "Honey, I think it's time for me to go on a diet."
I panicked; I'll admit it. I begged. "I don't want to lose you! Not even a part of you." She laughed... but it didn't change her mind.
Dianne rolled away from me so she could look me in the eye. She propped herself on one elbow and looked at me with concern in her eyes.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing"
"But you seem so sad." It was true; the thought of luscious Dianne withering away had me depressed. She looked the same; after all, it had only been a week, and she had only lost four pounds. Somehow, that didn't seem to matter; they say sex is in the mind, and I guess that must be right.
To make matters worse, she was so proud of it. When she weighed herself, she was so happy she ran to see me. "This is so great! I'm down to 283 now, and that's just the first week!"
"That's great." I lied; she didn't catch my lack of enthusiasm; she was excited enough for both of us.
"You know, I just feel so sexy now..." she grabbed me and started to unbutton my shirt. Any other time I would have been delighted. To make matters worse, she kept talking about it when she came to bed. "I think I've lost some in my tummy; my jeans don't seem as tight." I nodded glumly, but she didn't notice.
Now here I was in bed with a beautiful woman, a beautiful, horny woman, who had finally started to see herself as attractive ... and I just wasn't in the mood.
I felt sorry for myself, sure; my beautiful more-than-plump girl was going to melt away. I wanted her to gain, not lose. I wanted a huge jiggly belly, breasts like pillows, Dianne eating all the time... and it wasn't going to happen.
My next thought was 'That's so unfair to her. It's her body; she can be any size she chooses. She shouldn't have to gain just to make me happy. And she's so happy about this... how can I tell her I hate it?'
Finally she realized there was something wrong.
"Is it something I said?" she asked.
"No." I sat up on the edge of the bed.
"Something I did? Please, tell me."
"No, nothing you did... I love you, Dianne."
"If you love me, why won't you tell me what's the matter?" She was starting to get angry now, not because I wouldn't perform my studly duties, but because I wouldn't talk to her.
"Dianne, you look so fabulous you drive me wild; I'll catch sight of you in a crowd and think 'wow! Look at HER!" And then I realize I get to sleep beside that woman every night.' You just look so incredible... "
"Somehow that doesn't seem like it should cause this problem."
"But you won't have this body for long," I moaned.
She sat there several moments, amazed.
"You really do like me fat, don't you?"
"I've only been saying that for two years!"
"I thought you were just being sweet!"
"I was being truthful!"
"Okay," she said reluctantly. "I'll forget about the diet, for now at least."
Gone were the diet sodas, the rice cakes, and the synthetic cheese-scented food substitute. Over the next year or so, she even gained a bit, though I could tell she wasn't thrilled with that.
As time went on Dianne became more open, more accepting of her body. She would go out in public and not feel self conscious at all, even when showing more than a little skin. This was driven home when I took her with me on a weekend business trip; we were at the hotel pool when I noticed a guy staring at her. That wasn't unusual, although Dianne never noticed. In the mid 300's, she still had an almost hourglass figure: wide, flaring hips, huge breasts, separated by a relatively narrow waist. She had wide shoulders, thick powerful thighs, all topped by a huge mass of golden hair. The first word I thought when I saw her, 'amazon' was more accurate than ever.
She looked hot, especially in her new swimsuit. It was a wet-looking metallic blue, high cut on the legs so it showed half her butt. She didn't like it, but it was the off season so there wasn't a large selection in the supersize range. It had one of those zippers down the front... You know, zip it up and it was at her chin; down, and she's almost literally falling out. Even with her growing confidence, she thought it was too revealing, and kept the zipper all the way up; I thought it looked fine, and gave the zipper a tug down whenever I could get away with it. She would slap at my hands, but I knew she enjoyed my teasing as long as no one else was around.
She had jiggled her way into the pool area, and I was rubbing lotion into her muscular legs when I noticed this guy watching. As I said, that happens all the time, but this guy didn't make any attempt to hide it. I decided to tease her about it.
"Don't look now," I whispered, "But you have an admirer."
"What? Who? She looked about.
"That guy over there, in the red trunks."
"The one with the muscles? He's cute!"
"Uh... Yeah, I guess so." He didn't do anything for me. I guess I'm just hopelessly heterosexual.
She smiled at him. He smiled back. She stretched, slowly, then lay back. After sunning herself a while, she asked "Honey, could you get me a soda, please?"
I didn't suspect anything until I returned to find them talking. He departed hastily when I walked up, and she called "Bye, now... we'll have to talk again... remember 'balloons' at freemail dot com'.
She already had an email address, and it wasn't at freemail, either. "Balloons?" I asked incredulously. "Was that his idea?"
"As a matter of fact, it was," she told me defiantly. Then she giggled, and I noticed her suit was unzipped almost down to her navel. She was showing almost a foot of cleavage, and it was easy to see why he had picked the name.
"Look, we're two hundred miles from home," she reassured me, 'and you know I'll never see the guy again, right?"
"Right, " I agreed grudgingly. She made it up to me that night; she went crazy in bed. Was she thinking of the guy she flirted with? I didn't know and didn't care.
The next day, while I was conventioning, she went shopping. She modeled for me afterwards; everything was low cut, except the things that were stretchy and tight and form fitting. Actually, a lot of it was stretchy and formfitting AND low cut. And does a woman with more than fifty inches of bustline really need a push-up bra? Not that I'm complaining, you know, just asking.
Things went along fine for the next year. She had overcome any shyness about her size; indeed, sometimes she seemed to almost flaunt her body. She knew how it turned me on, and now she knew other men were attracted too.
Occasionally the name 'Balloons' would pop up in my email. I asked her if she were corresponding to the guy she met, but she told me that was now her name to the internet fat community in general, and not to worry. I figured if it made her more confident, it could only help.
She continued to gain, passing 400 lbs., but her growth was slowing. She was very active, and the extra pounds didn't slow her down a bit; her strong frame seemed to handle the weight quite easily. On and off, she began to talk about dieting again.
"Not a lot," she would assure me... "Certainly not enough to reduce my boobs by much... but it would be nice if I could loose a little of this tummy."
Oh well... as always, it was her body. Then my salvation came, as if from nowhere: A Big Beautiful Babes dance, in a city less than a hundred miles away. She heard about it on the net, of course, and we made plans to attend.
Dianne had a blast. Oh, I had fun too, dancing and talking, but I'm sort of shy; this wasn't really my element. Dianne didn't have this problem at all. She was everywhere, talking to everyone. She wore a dress cut so low it was a wonder it didn't show her navel. I think she danced with every man there... even once or twice with me. On the fast dances, I was amazed she didn't bounce out of her dress; on the slow dances, she held her partners belly-rubbing close. I remember one fellow, several inches shorter than she, who was almost buried up to his chin in her breasts; when he came up for air, he had a huge grin on his face, and I don't blame him.
We had barely stated home when she turned to me. "Did you see how FAT some of those women were?"
"Well, it was a dance for Big Beautiful Babes."
"Yes... but some of them... they were huge. And the men were just flocking around them."
"I told you I wasn't the only guy who felt that way."
"I guess you're right..."
"Sure. I noticed you were getting a lot of attention yourself. The darkness hid it, but I am sure she blushed. "Maybe a little. " She giggled.
"You liked it, didn't you?" I was a little jealous, but hey, she was going home with me.
"Yeah..." She reached over and gripped my thigh; that had to be a good sign. We rode on in silence for a while.
"You know, one of those ladies, just about the fattest one there, said she gained a lot of her weight on purpose. "
"She did?"
"She said her husband loved seeing her gain, and was always trying to get her to eat more. She told me how she would stuff herself with as much food as she could hold, just so she could get even fatter... And then I thought about all those fattening snacks and stuff you bring into the house." Uh-oh... I think it just hit the fan!
"Are you trying to do that to me?"
What to say? 'No' would be a flat out lie. 'Yes' had the advantage of being true, but I didn't think it would make either of us very happy. Maybe I could sidestep the question entirely.
"I want you to be happy." I said sincerely. " You eat whatever you want; that's all right with me. Of course, I wouldn't mind if you gained a little... but that's up to you." Ah, the beauty of understatement! All that was true, but I neglected to mention 'whatever you want' should become the same as 'stuffed beyond belief'.
"Good, because I'm not going to do that." She paused. I thought she was finished, but she added "But I don't think I'm going to start that diet either; I think you said it best: I'll just eat whatever I want. If I gain a few pounds, I guess that's okay. I certainly saw how beautiful big women can be... and how much attention big women get!"
That wasn't the only dance we went to... we became regulars, attending several a year. Dianne had always been a homebody, and our dates have usually been something like a movie or shopping, by her choice as much as mine. Now she longed to be out and about. Sometimes we went together, but she soon found new friends who shared her tastes. She even began to go out a night or two each week with 'the girls', a trio of plump babes who hit all the hottest clubs.
One day it occurred to me how much Dianne had changed. Finally she was comfortable with her weight. No, not just comfortable, proud: when not at her office, she dressed to show off her large, luscious body. Shorts, tops that were tight, clingy, and low cut, even halters and bare midriff tops.
More than her clothes had changed. She had gone from being a quiet stay-at-home type to a party girl. I pondered. She used to be quiet and reserved; now she was boisterous. If she laughed out loud a lot more, she also made fewer thoughtful observations. Fewer books, more TV. Was she still the same girl I had met five years ago?
New attitude, new clothes, new friends.... Maybe a new guy as well? When searching for a friend's address I found her e-mail was encrypted. No reason it shouldn't be, but it never was before. She started having long phone conversations, and always took the call in another room if I were around. I suspected but didn't say anything, so I wasn't surprised when she said she was leaving.
"Is it another guy?" I asked.
"No... not at all. Steven, right now I don't want to be tied down to just one guy. Growing up, I used to sit at home every Friday night, wishing someone would ask me out, and I thought it was because I was fat. Now I know there were probably a dozen guys who would have loved to go out with me, if I had ever asked THEM!"
"I'm so sorry, Steven," she said. "You've been so wonderful to me... and you've made such a change in my life! You've taught me that I can be beautiful and sexy. I'm just a completely different person now!" She laughed.
"That's the problem," she continued. "I've changed so much.... And now I want bright lights, and loud music, parties and dancing until dawn!" She looked at me and I knew she was right; I liked peace and quiet; a good book, maybe a movie or a cozy night at home.
'Don't go, Dianne; I'll change! I can be as cheap and trashy as you want!' No, I didn't say that, or even really think it. She wasn't like that; she just wanted to have a good time, and we simply didn't enjoy the same things. Instead, I smiled at her and said, "You're right. I'll miss you, Dianne."
"I'll miss you, too. You've done so much for me! Thank you, Steven." She hugged me. That was a mistake; my mind knew how different we were now; my heart could feel how we no longer belonged together; other parts of my body didn't agree. After a time that was all too short, I let her go.
She's gone. I knew it was for the best, but now there was a hole in my life where Dianne used to be. It was a big hole, but then she was a big girl.
The first time I saw Lisa was at lunch. There she was, right in the cafeteria at PseudoTech, where I worked. That's one of the great things about working there. I was sitting alone, facing the buffet line in the company cafeteria, checking out the women and commenting silently to myself. Good, Sheila, go back for some dessert, I encouraged silently. Nice butt, Brenda... those pants are definitely tighter, aren't they? Hello, new girl... what are you getting for lunch? I couldn't tell. Hey, Mary, nice to see you haven't lost all that weight after the baby was born.
It had been a couple of months since I broke up with Dianne. I had managed to push it from my mind, most of the time anyway, but sometimes I couldn't help feeling sorry for myself. I was so lonely; I would go home and not have anyone to talk to, and of course all those biological pressures were building up inside. I sighed; the women around this place were depressingly trim; I doubted if there were more than a few over two hundred pounds. Yes, I know I should focus on a woman's personality, and who she really is inside... I admit it, but to me the physical side of a relationship is important too. I'm a guy; sue me!
It was too much to hope for to find someone right here in my own company, but that didn't stop me from looking. Oh, Dianne....
"Excuse, me... is this seat taken?" I jumped! It was the new girl, standing beside my table, tray in hand.
"Oh, sure... I mean, no, it isn't." Smooth, I told myself.
"Don't you work in Reverse Engineering? I think I saw you there this morning when they gave us the tour."
"Yes... " I remembered a troop of new employees being herded though the department this morning. I introduced myself, explaining I was the head of the technical unit at Reverse Engineering. That's where we copy all the great features of other company's software, saving us the trouble of doing anything original ourselves.
"Hi...I'm Lisa. I just started today in Document Incompatibility." That's where they redesign file formats; I know you've seen their work. You know: when you create a document in PseudoBase 97.5, it looks fine but when you open it in PseudoBase 98, there are always a couple of things you have to fix. I'll bet you never thought that was deliberate, did you? It's a fine line... not enough to turn customers off, just annoying enough to encourage them to upgrade.
"Hi, Lisa, have a seat." As she did, I glanced up and down, the same as any guy, although we aren't all looking for the same thing. I saw a smartly dressed young woman, maybe 5'1" or so. I think the word 'petite' fit perfectly; definitely not type I'm usually interested in. I prepared myself to converse politely, welcoming her to the company... until I saw what she was having for lunch.
Her plate was piled high with ham, rolls, candied yams and more, but what caught my eye was the baked potato. At least I thought there was a potato under there... I could see cheese and bacon and a huge mound of butter, sitting in a lake of sour cream. She caught me staring at her plate and smiled nervously.
"I hope you don't get the wrong idea about me ... All my life my mom was a fanatic about what I ate. She always nagged me and watched what I ate. She would bitch at me if I had an extra French fry, and God forbid I should have something sweet.... But now I've moved halfway across the country, and I'm going to eat anything I feel like." She looked me square in the eye, as if daring me to comment. The day was looking up!
"Hey, no problem... I think that's great. In fact, I admire you for taking a stand like that, for not conforming to what society expects."
"Exactly." She began to eat. Quickly and efficiently she began to put away her meal. She began to slow down as she ate the potato, though, and finally she pushed it away.
"I have to save room for dessert," she said. True... she had three desserts on her tray, and they would take quite a bit of room. Now she ate with determination, deliberately swallowing every bite.
"I'm wondering... If you've been eating like this..."
"Why am I not fat?" she finished for me. "I'm sure I'll be putting on a few pounds, but the real reason is that I only started two days ago. I've just moved out from California, and what with moving and getting settled in, I haven't had time to do more than think about this...dream about it actually. But yesterday I think I ate enough for a whole week! Anyway, if I get fat, so what?"
"No problem," I repeated. "I mean... external things like that don't really matter... it's the person inside that counts." That was true, of course... but that wasn't what had me so excited.
"You know, I don't know anyone in town here..." She smiled; she had a pretty smile, even if she was so very thin. "Do you think you could show me around sometime?"
"After work today?" She agreed.
"Maybe we could have dinner," I suggested. That got a big smile; I looked forward to our date all afternoon.
I took her to a buffet, of course... when we walked in I realized it was the same Italian place where I had taken Dianne. No diet soda this time! Bite after bite, plate after plate went into Lisa's flat little tummy. I was amazed. Did she intend to eat like this all the time? I was excited, just imagining the effect this would have upon her.
How could a tiny girl like this hold all that food? I had eaten all I wanted but she was still going strong. I got a little more to be polite, then picked at it while she cleaned another plate... and then another. Finally I offered to take over trips to the buffet line.
"Good," she said. "All this food has made me woozy... and I feel the weight of all that food whenever I stand up. Could you please get me more of that Fettuccini?" Of course I could.
The entire meal I marveled at her appetite, and remember, I was used to watching a 400-pound woman eat. Lisa couldn't match Diane at this point, but it wasn't as one-sided as I would have expected.
"That's it." She declared finally. "I'm past stuffed... I really feel like I'm about to be sick, and I don't want to lose all this fantastic food." When I stood to go, she started to rise, then sank back to her seat.
"Just a minute...let me rest." After a few moments she said..."I shouldn't do this, but could you get me couple of the canolis?" As I left to get them, she called "Maybe three..."
I finally got her home, but not without getting her a dozen doughnuts "for breakfast," she told me, although she ate four on the way home.
"I usually don't invite men in on the first date... but you're going to have to help me or I won't make it inside!" I got her inside and she collapsed on the couch. "If you don't mind... would you rub my tummy? It's so full it hurts."
Would I? She pulled down the waist of her skirt and buttoned her blouse; her belly bulged out in a ball. Gently I touched the bulge of her belly; it was taut and stretched from all the food. I remember rubbing Dianne's belly, but even when I first met her it was padded with several inches of soft fat; this was very different.
"That feels so nice, " she said. "I can't believe how much I ate. At first I was ashamed to think of you seeing me eat like that... but then I noticed how you were looking at me...and smiling. You like watching me eat, don't you?"
I nodded. "As much as I like stuffing myself, right?" she persisted.
I confessed that her gluttony excited me, and asked if she planned to do it again.
"Of course," she replied. "If you're there to help." What could I say, except yes?
That tummy didn't stay flat more than a week; already it was softening. The pounds really showed up on her pixie-like figure. In less than a month, she was twenty pounds heavier, a dramatic difference. I think she worried about that for all of thirty seconds... in fact, she seemed proud of it. Each day or two she would show off the changes brought on by her insatiable eating.
"I have to confess," she told me after we had been dating a couple of weeks. I don't just want to eat... I want to get fat! I used to fantasize about this all the time... eating and eating and getting really fat. My college roommate told me she wanted to do that, and I've wanted to do it ever since. We talked about it all the time; how much we would eat, how big we would grow, how lazy and out of shape we would become. For me it was all just talk... she actually gained about a hundred pounds in three years."
"Why didn't you?"
"I was on scholarship, tennis. You stop winning, they stop paying."
"And after college?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I wanted to find someone to help me gain, to encourage me... and of course I always had my mom bitching at me, too." She sighed. "It was so great, watching my roommate gain all that weight."
"You're going to do that too, if you keep eating like this." I teased her.
"Would you like that?" she asked seriously.
"I would love it! Do you really think you could gain a hundred pounds in a year?"
"Oh, I'll do better than that, " she said with determination. "Just wait and see."
"Hmph," I complained, patting her almost-flat belly. "Still pretty skinny, if you ask me." She knew I was kidding, and smiled back at me.
"That's because you're not feeding me," she wailed, grinning. "Here I am, starving.... wasting away... and you've kept me here almost an hour and haven't fed me anything except that bag of candy. Get me something before I pass out."
"Okay, okay... " I laughed. From the kitchen I called "What do you want? Cookies? Nuts? More chocolate?"
"That sounds good," she called. I was about to ask which when I realized she meant all three. "Hurry!" she urged. "It's almost time to go to supper!"
She was so different from Dianne. She wasn't sensitive about her weight; she was proud of every pound she gained, and loved to show it off. "Look!" she would exclaim. "Cellulite!" Sometimes she would model clothes she had outgrown: jeans that wouldn't zip, a blouse with gaps between the buttons, maybe a skin-tight T-shirt. Somehow, I didn't think 100 lbs. in a year would be any problem for Lisa, and I was right.
Over the next few months we saw a lot of each other, and almost every date involved huge amounts of food and passionate love. She was aggressive in her lovemaking, vigorous and active, though I thought this might change as she got larger, at least after a certain point. After a couple of months she asked if I would move in with her when she had doubled her weight. Even at the rate she was going, that would be a while, but she said it would encourage her eat more. She was always trying new recipies, new ways to gain. To her, it was important to eat as much as possible, and as many calories as possible. Two hundred pounds came within nine months.
She was fanatical about eating and gaining. She was always talking about how much she wanted to eat and how fat she wanted to be. Soon she was eating amounts of food no one else would ever dream of; the more fattening a food was the better.
As much as she ate, she never felt it was enough. Soon after I moved in, she led me to the bedroom where she had set up a table full of food. "I've been slacking off," she explained. "Yesterday I only had two plates of spaghetti for supper, plus those sandwiches; I have to do better than that... and you have to make me. That's your job, right?"
"Right," I agreed unsure what she had in mind. Then I looked at the table and my eyes bugged out. Today she had gone for fats: butter, a jar of mayo, peanut butter sandwiches, and real cream to wash it down with. In terms of volume, it wasn't a lot more than she normally ate, but it had more calories than I would eat in two weeks.
"First, the butter," she instructed. I handed her a stick. She spread a thick layer on a cracker, then munched it down. Soon the stick was gone... then most of another. After a while she got impatient and finished the second stick in a few bites, swallowing big chunks. Man, how could she do that? Just the thought made me queasy, but I knew she loved it. "What next?" I asked.
"You don't ASK me," she said, exasperated. "I've been bad, not eating enough, and you're supposed to see I make up for it. Now hurry up...I don't want to spoil my dinner."
"Oh, yeah...." What to feed her? I picked up the first thing I set eyes on.
"Now you're going to eat cake icing... a whole can!"
I knew she could put away a can of cake icing in a snap... I had seen it often enough. "You're going to make me so fat!" she mockingly protested.
"Oh yeah, like I'm really having to force you to eat all this!" We both laughed. I watched her finish the can of icing and asked "Do you remember how you looked when I met you? Half this size!"
"I had a flat tummy... Before I moved east I used to run three miles a day...Just look what you've done to me!"
"Me? You wanted this as much as I did!"
Yeah... Isn't it great?" She then began to demolish peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, one after another."
I gave her my best mad scientist laugh. "Ahahaha...You've doubled," I gloated, "... and we're going to double you again, and maybe again after that!"
"No... no... I can't!" She squirmed about, trying to roll over. "I can't ... reach the cream! I've got to have something to wash down that peanut butter!" It took her an hour to empty the table, which wasn't long considering how much food she had piled there. And yes, when she finished, she did go to supper, and polished off two pizzas as well. That was when I asked her to marry me.
"You deserve it," I told her. "Look at the commitment you have made to me by gaining all this weight. You know it's going to be permanent, you can't go back to the way you were. If you are willing to do that for me, well... you deserve the same level of commitment from me."
"I don't know, Steven," she said skeptically. "I didn't gain all this just for you; I had already decided to do this before we even met. This has been as much fun for me as it was for you. I just LOVE being this fat!" I must have looked dejected, because she added "Look, I haven't said no... I just don't want to you marry me because of some obligation you think you have."
I was sure I wanted to marry her, that much I knew. How to convince her? "I love you more and more, the longer I know you."
"You mean as I get fatter, I turn you on more and more? Is that it?"
"That too... but not just that. I really do love you. I want to make sure you will always be there. I couldn't bear the thought of living without you "
"Ah... so you want to trap me in a relationship, even if I decide I want to leave?" Couldn't I make her understand? Then I saw the twinkle in her eye and realized my mischievous girl was playing games with me. Fortunately she saw my pain and relented.
"Listen... I love you too, you dummy! I didn't gain all this just for you, but you've made it a lot more fun.. and you're nice to have around, too. Hmm... I wonder if you feel this way becasue of the way Dianne left you?"
"You know Dianne?" She must; I had never mentioned Dianne to Lisa.
"I've known her for years, online. Before you and I met, actually. In fact, she told me to look you up when I came east."
"What!?"
"Oh, yes... We were talking and I mentioned I was finally going to start gaining for real, as soon as I moved. When I told her I was going to PseudoTech, she told me to check you out!"
"I can imagine what her recommendation was like," I said bitterly.
"She said you were one of the nicest guys she had ever met: loyal, dependable, honest, and smart. And good in bed."
"She did?"
"Oh yeah... she warned me you were a real stick-in-the-mud, totally dull, and all around boring."
"That's more like I expected."
"Fortunatly for you I like that in a man. She also said you adored supersize women, and that you were always trying to get her to gain, but never pushy about it."
"Did she really say I was good in bed?"
"I had already signed with PseudoTech, so I made sure to meet you as soon as I got there. At lunch that first day, I recognized you from the picture Dianne emailed. I loaded up my tray and said hello, and sure enough you asked me out."
"Sounds like I didn't have much of a choice. You girls had it all planned out."
"Of course we did," she said, nodding.
"Uh... did she really say...."
"Yes, she did... but she'll never get to have you again; I'm saying yes."
"Huh? Yes to what?"
"To your proposal... I assume the offer is still open?"
"Oh, sure!" And in less than a month we were married. Lisa made a lovely bride, and amazed everyone when she wiped out all the food at the reception. I managed to lift my bride and stagger over threshold; I'm glad we didn't wait another month or I would never have made it. I made sure there was a complete second wedding cake waiting in the honeymoon suite, and she ate it all on her wedding night. It's traditional. Well, that's what Lisa said, anyway.
Marriage agreed with Lisa. She ate more than ever, and added another hundred pound in the next nine months. Married life was great! We quickly settled into a routine. Dianne would have thought us deadly dull, but our routine included lots of fattening food and even more sex. And I didn't really care what Dianne thought anymore!
Along about this time we moved into a bigger place, and when we did we made a few changes to accommodate Lisa's increasing size. A king-size bed. Out went the bathtub, to be replaced by a walk in shower. Of course our new place was all on ground level, with no steps or stairs. We traded in Lisa's sporty car, too, for something with a lot more belly room.
Another year; four hundred pounds, up from one hundred two. There wasn't anything firm or solid about her body; everything jiggled and shook whenever she moved. Her belly hung down, forming a nice apron of fat. Her breasts, once just firm little points, more nipple than meat, sagged down to rest atop that belly; as she had grown, they had moved far apart. Her pert little butt had almost doubled in width; of course, it was pretty narrow to start with. Her arms were far larger than her legs had been when we met, and her legs were now larger than her former waistline. She wasn't quite as big as Dianne ... but Dianne had been eight inches taller, with a stocky muscular build; Dianne would have been a big girl even if she wasn't fat. Lisa on the other hand was a tiny girl buried deep within three hundred pounds of fat.
As large as she had become, her appetite had increased even more. Every day we smuggled two briefcases full of candy into her cube at PseudoTech; every day we went to lunch in the cafeteria. There the other workers had grown used to Lisa's huge meals and my frequent trips back to the buffet to get her not just seconds but fourths and fifths as well. Some large women don't want to be seen eating but not Lisa! She quickly got into the habit of letting me bring her plate after plate of food.
But the day was only half over! A quick stop at a drive-thru would furnish food for the commute home, perhaps five or six burgers, sometimes two or three Chinese meals. Another quick stop supplied two boxes of doughnuts for the reverse commute the next morning. Then it was time for supper, the main meal of the day. Actually, suppertime started when we walked in the door and continued until she fell asleep.
All this might have raised a few eyebrows among her co-workers, but PseudoTech as a company didn't mind a bit; they were delighted with her work. She had done a great job at Incompatibility, then wrangled a transfer to the moribund Development Division; as I said we don't really develop anything ourselves, but Lisa had other ideas. She created a whole new concept for PseudoTech: Online Updates. Sure, other companies have done the same, but not like this.
Each package would touch base with Pseudo whenever the user logged on the net; automatically it would download plugins, bug fixes, templates, you name it. Most of these were free, and some were quite useful; no one refused this service. Even the files that weren't free only cost a dollar or two, and no one could mind a dollar or two a week painlessly deducted by electronic transfer. It was definitely a good deal for the affluent, slightly dense user, and an even better deal for Pseudo, especially since we snagged most of this stuff off the net and didn't spend a dime on development.
That was the beauty of her scheme: we sell an application for maybe $200, then tack on perhaps fifty dollars pure profit ... and our consumers are grateful! Oh, and of course we offer a semi-major update a couple of times a year, for only $10. And did I mention that each new program comes out of the box as hungry as Lisa herself, eagerly demanding all the new add-ons and extensions?
She might have been a bundle of energy behind the keyboard, but not physically. Lisa had developed into the laziest person I have ever known. At the same weight Dianne was still quite active, her Amazon frame carrying her weight with no problem at all. Lisa, on the other hand, was very out of shape, she might still be able to most things; she just didn't want to. Let the phone ring, sitting on the far end of the couch, and she would call me from the other end of the house to answer it. "You want me to be fat, don't you?" she would say, munching cookies.
If we went shopping, I had to drop her off near the door, and when we left I would have to fetch the car and pick her up. Sometimes she would plant herself on a chair or bench and send me all over the store hunting stuff while she never took a step.
Housework? Forget it! "I can't bend over to get that stuff," she would grumble jokingly. "I should be sitting right there, eating. A guy who wants me to be really fat wouldn't make me do this." With this in mind, I did almost all the cleaning. I didn't really care for housework myself, so maybe it was time to start thinking about a maid. We both made good money, and could we possibly find anything better to spend it on?
God forbid I should ask her to help with dishes or laundry. "You must be joking! Me?!" she complained. "Maybe I should just lose a couple of hundred pounds so I can slave away for you like that." Of course she was joking... Lisa wasn't about to lose an ounce. Guess who did the dishes and laundry? "You take such good care of me," she would say as she cuddled close.
One day I came home to find she had hired a maid. Of course, by this time we had moved into a larger place. She paid most of the rent, so I guess she could hire a maid if she wanted. It certainly made things easier on me.
Five hundred fifty pounds.... maybe closer to six hundred. Now Lisa had to struggle to move her huge body more than a few steps. Her thighs had swelled to the point they pressed firmly together, all the way down to her knees. They were far past the point of rubbing together, instead, the masses of fat rotated and stretched with each step. Her belly hung halfway to her knees, and as she walked her thighs would push it from behind, causing it to jiggle like crazy. Of course she waddled from side to side as well, causing her belly to sway back and forth, almost sloshing with every step. I was almost like her whole body was made of Jello; that's how much she jiggled. What a treat to watch!
As I said, she could only walk a few steps without a break. Her longest walk each day was into Pseudo to her office... she was too important for a cube nowadays, not that she would be comfortable in one any more. I would drop her at the door, of course, but she had to walk all the way across the lobby to the elevator. I'm almost certain they added those new marble benches to accommodate her; considering her value to the company, it was a good investment.
As she had passed from skinny to plump, through pudgy, fat, and on past supersized, Lisa had loved every pound, but I had been afraid that as it became hard to move and do things she would begin to change her mind. Not so! Lisa loved the effect all her new fat had on her body.
"Isn't this great?!" she would say, her round grinning face flushed from the exertion. Halfway across the lobby she would sit to catch her breath. "I can really feel everything jiggle.... And I feel so heavy today; I'm sure I've gained." she would whisper, delighted. "And did you catch my reflection in the glass over there? This belly is really bouncing around! Wow! Did you see it?"
"Of course, but I get to see it all the time."
"True... but you don't get to live inside of it!" After sitting a few minutes, breathing hard, she would attempt to finish her walk to the elevator.
After a while, though, it became clear it was just too much stress for her to go to work each day. I still made good money, better than ever, but I have to admit that Lisa made a lot more, maybe three times as much. That's why it came as such a relief when Pseudo asked if she wanted to work at home and do everything online. Lisa thought it was great; she would have jumped at the chance, if jumping were the sort of thing she did.
Instead, she told them yes on the spot and began making plans. A new computer. A huge rolling chair. Shelves, a work table, all her books... and a fridge and microwave right beside. She could spend the entire day sitting in one place, always eating. A couple of times a day she would waddle heavily to the bathroom, maybe moving to the living room in the evening.
Once she began working at home I don't think she ever stopped eating during the day. I know I bought enough food to keep ten people fed. When I told her that, she politely pointed out she only weighed enough for seven, or at least seven times what she weighed when we met... but said she was working on it!
Now that she could eat all day without interruption, her appetite increased even more. Now that she never had to walk into work, or even to the car, she set her mind on becoming the largest, softest woman possible. She delighted in her weight, in being so out of shape, and her laziness reached new heights. I began to wonder just how fat she would go, but we never talked about it; whenever I asked, she just said 'Bigger'.
Then, one day she was sitting on the couch and dropped the remote control. She tried to reach it, but couldn't, quite; it lay just past the tips of her pudgy fingers. She tried to get up, but couldn't make it unassisted. She called, but I was in another room. She screamed, and finally I heard her on the fourth or fifth try.
I rushed into the room... the way she was yelling I knew it had to be something serious.
"Could you get that for me, Sweetie?" She reached for the remote, showing me how it was out of reach.
"Huh? What?" Lisa wasn't the type to yell for no reason.
"I found out I couldn't stand up by myself. I was tired, I know; I walked into the kitchen for a snack, and that wore me out."
Uh-oh... I had a bad feeling about this.
"I just wanted to see if you could hear me, and how fast you could come help if there was a real problem. Just testing... I didn't mean to upset you."
"Oh... okay."
"I didn't realize how much I needed help to stand up... you're always there. A few more pounds and I won't be able to stand up by myself at all. And if I keep gaining, it won't be too long until I can't walk at all. We are going to have to make some changes."
I could see it coming: diet time. Should I beg? Plead? No. I resolved to do the right thing. And was it so bad? How many feeders get to see a woman grow beyond supersize? How many get to see a wife gain over six hundred pounds? And besides, I knew Lisa, and how much she loved being fat.
How much would she lose? Two hundred? That still left me with a five hundred pound wife.
'And she might gain it back' crossed my mind, but I firmly pushed the thought aside. Even if she lost down to the size when we met, she would still be Lisa, still be my wife, and I would always remember the fantastic proportions she had reached.
"Steven?" She asked, wondering why I had fallen silent for so long. I gathered my courage, then spoke.
"Honey, you know I love you, and I'll support anything you decide to do." I looked her in the eye. "It's your decision to make, and I'll go along with whatever you wish."
"Okay..." She looked at me oddly.
"This is a big change; after this, everything is going to be different.... But I want you to know I'll always be there for you, no matter what you decide."
"That's nice, Steven... but what the hell are you talking about?"
"You losing weight. I can understand why...." I stopped because she was laughing at me. Her whole body was shaking, waves rippling though the fat. In a few moments her face was red.
"Me?! Lose weight?" She gasped, breathing hard from the exertion. "You're joking, right?"
Here I had tried so hard to be noble and unselfish, and gotten laughed at in return. Of course, this probably meant she wasn't planning to diet, so I brightened up.
"I thought, when you couldn't stand up... and then said you wouldn't be able to walk..."
"Steven, you know me... or I thought you did. I love being heavy and out of shape! Here I was on the couch.. I couldn't get up... and every time I tried I got more and more turned on! I was calling because I wanted you to take me to bed, you dummy!" She reached up to me; the fat of her upper arms hung down in swaying folds.
"Oh..." I braced myself, took her hands, and pulled, hard. She took her first waddling steps toward the bedroom, leaning heavily on my arm. "But when you talked about big changes..."
"I want to remodel the house! Taller, firmer furniture, wider doors, intercoms, hire a second maid, so there's someone always here around the clock... that sort of thing."
"Oh..." I repeated. "I just thought..." She reached the bed and sank gratefully down. As she sat, I noticed her belly spilled between her legs, dangling halfway to her ankles. I could see it clearly, hanging out below the bottom of her knee-length nightgown. She pulled the gown off, revealing her huge body. She was fat, fat, FAT. Ponderously she lay down, rolling over to the center of the bed. Lying on her back, her belly flowed off to both sides, touching the bed on both sides of her hips. Her soft arms and legs flattened out, spreading wide on the bed.
As I watched, entranced by her beauty, she smiled at me and patted her belly.
"Steven, if I wanted to lose weight, don't you think I would have started before I got this big? Just look at this!" She rocked from side to side, sending sloshing waves through her body. "That's six hundred pounds of pure fat I've added to this body! And you know what? I want MORE! I'm going to keep eating, and growing, and getting even fatter because I LOVE IT! Now go get a couple of pounds of chocolate to feed me while we make love."
What could I say? I hurried to the pantry, but on the way back I heard.."Honey? Could you make it three pounds? And maybe a carton of ice cream too?"