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Fattening the Personal Trainer


>_< 0_0

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2 hours ago, >_< 0_0 said:

That happened once before, so we have to out-do it next time hehe

No... ehehe funny enough, I was visiting a friend going through some stress and lowkey attempted to stuff her. That didn't quite happen, but I did tell her that the diet she broke the last three days was only a natural reaction to her cutting food groups out for so long and that her body needed and craved what she called "junk food," and thus, she was actually eating healthy "again." She agreed 😃❤️

Also, next chapter's half done. Standby.

It alright art takes time!

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Alright! It begins!

Chapter Thirty-Six

               This being the first weightlifting competition I’d ever been in – or even seen for that matter – I chided myself for not paying attention to the way it was going to be done. There were three weight classes competing, and interestingly enough, there was no separation of male and female contestants. Apparently, this was because the whole point of the contest was to let the gyms show-off their best people – a publicity stunt, I guess – and therefore it mattered more which gym you were part of. I guess that was what Eric meant when he said we were all on the same team.

Anyway, both genders either fell into the lightweights (under two hundred pounds), the midweights (two hundred to two-fifty), or heavyweights (over two-fifty). Each would perform as a group one at a time, light, mid, and heavy. Each contestant would have a full set of all the weights ready for them, and at the blowing of an airhorn, they would do a max set of deadlifts. A second airhorn would trigger squats, and a third would trigger benching. Each contestant would have a coach recording the number of reps completed, and each rep would be worth one point.

Now here’s where it got interesting: since each rep would be one point, the strategy would be how to hold back on one set while saving-up for another. Once the scores were tallied, the five high scores of that weight class would compete again for first, second, and third place. This time, the scoring was more complicated: squats were one point while deadlifts and benching were two points. The strategizing would intensify, and I personally was unsure of what I should do… yet.

But I better hurry-up strategizing, because the lightweights had just finished and we, the midweights, were about to walk outside. I glanced at Candace, who stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot but looking confident.

“Hey Candace,” I nudged her.

“What Cody?”

“Um… what’s a good strategy for this? These dudes around us are pretty buff, you know.”

“Strategy? Strategy, Cody?” Candace smirked. “We’re lifting. What part of that requires brainpower? Just lift. It’s raw power,” she clenched her upturned-fists, as if powering herself up.

“Okay…” I mused, unconvinced. Did she really not get that this would require some thinking, or perhaps she didn’t mind if I underperformed compared to her?

“You think too much,” Candace patted my back. “Just grab the weights and push. Like we always have.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” I said as I shook the nervousness out of my arms.

But I wasn’t.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the speakers blared. “That was our lightweight contestants, give it up as they exit…

I listened nervously to the speaker, knowing that soon I would be in front of a crowd of thousands. Again, I glanced at Candace, who was beginning to assume her Hulk persona, eyebrows bent down like panther's, ready to pounce.

And now introducing our midweight contestants, hailing from seventeen gyms across the state…

“That’s our queue, let’s go,” someone said.

Slowly, we herded ourselves towards the entrance to the stadium, which had been repurposed for the contest. Instantly, my heart began to pound as I felt the stares of thousands of onlookers in all directions. Music thrummed the air, vibrating the very floor I walked upon. It was so hard to look anywhere except the ground; it was a relief when we passed the lightweights. We stared at each other with some relief at having comrades to look at. I spotted Hannah pouting in the thickest part of the lightweight crowd.

“Way to go Hannah!” I reached out to pat her back as we passed.

“I dropped the bar!” she replied.

“What?” I could barely hear her.

“I said, I dropped the bar!”

By then, she had passed me, and I could only wave back at her. I’d have to talk to her about it later. Oh well, she always said she wasn’t quite ready; we’d laugh about it later today.

One by one, we filed into place, each of us standing by our own sets of equipment. I centred myself before the deadlifting bar and fastened my lifting belt around my waist. I still hated deadlifts, but I was more confident than before. I could totally do this…

Contestants, prepare yourselves,” the announcer boomed from all directions. “Deadlifts begin in five… four… three… two…”

I hunched down and scrambled to grip the bar. There was no chalk to rub my palms with, but that would be to my advantage because I usually didn’t use it – it was to counter sweaty palms, which I never had in the winter. The bigger guys would sweat more, of course…

The airhorn was deafening. I rose up in a wide stance, easily lifting the hundred thirty-five pounds to my pelvis.

“One!” my coach called.

I dropped quickly to preserve my strength, keeping my grip to prevent the bar from rolling away. Coaches were bellowing numbers in all directions against the blare of heavy metal and the roar of the crowds. Tightening my fingers, I rose again.

“Two!”

And slammed it down. I had a feel of the bar’s heft and knew how much it would bounce. Slow and steady, I worked myself into a groove, using the bar’s bounce to lift again and again. The floor shook to the beat of dozens of deadlifters. I could feel my body begin to strain with fatigue. I wouldn’t go all-out this time. I’d conserve my strength for squats. Yes… I was better at squats, and I wanted my arms to be fresh enough to hold the bar in place for that. Alright then, just ten more deadlifts then…

“Twenty-three!”

With some relief, I slammed the bar down and stood up to watch the other contestants. Some were still trying to squeeze a few more reps in, faces red with exertion. One or two had stopped altogether, obviously too weak to continue. Candace, however, was still lifting strong near the centre of the room. I watched her rise with another rep and scream with pre-workout-fuelled fury. The dude next to her darted a glance in her direction, shocked enough to be distracted mid-rep. Christ, she was literally scaring the competition away!

I saw her coach yell a number I couldn’t hear, and she finally dropped her weight with a snarl. Swooning slightly, she clenched every muscle in her body and roared skywards. Her coach took a half-step back. A small part of me wondered if she was a werewolf. No… were-bear

The final contestant has thrown down! The contestants will have sixty seconds to catch their breath before hitting the squats. Contestants! Make ready!

Only sixty seconds? That was barely any time at all! My take-it-easy tactic had worked. Taking some heavy breaths with my hands on my hips, I casually looked around myself and spotted several winded contestants who didn’t look close to ready. Sixty seconds was clearly not what they were used to. But I was small and fast. Candace had trained me to trade sets with her all day. Rest? Who rests in the heat of battle!? My heart was beating slow and hard like the drumbeat of a campaigning army. This was just like our time in the gym.

Contestants, prepare to get low in five… four… three…

The speaker’s voice was drowned within the roar of exuberant crowds. My grip was perfectly aligned with my feet. The roar rose to a fever pitch; it was time to go. I lifted an inch, took a step back, and bent deep.

“One!”

And up. The world faded into the background, the screaming like the static of an ill-tuned radio. Rep after rep, I cranked myself into a steady groove like a train pushing uphill. Amidst the static, I could hear the count going up, as well as a piercing roar behind me. Candace. She was in her element. She knew she was winning. She made sure everyone knew. If she didn’t love me, I’d have been terrified.

“Forty-one!”

Exhausted, I racked the bar and shook my arms loose. I’d pushed harder this time to take advantage of my leg strength, but had stopped just short. I needed my arm strength for benching. I would spend every last bit of strength for the final round…

Someone tripped backwards. I glanced towards the noise just in time to catch sight of a crowd of coaches dragging a man off the floor. He was obviously done. One less worry. Then again, I started walking in circles to make sure I didn’t go into shock like the last guy.

Candace prowled her corner, looping around other contestants like a hungry tigress. As she circled around her bench, she angrily tugged her yoga pants up by the sides before tugging the back. Her globular ass cheeks jiggled as her yoga pants rode up her crack for half a moment before resting in place again. Surely she was using her own hate and anger as motivation, channelling it from her furious glare and shaking limbs into her muscles. I turned away with a shiver as I faced my bench. She was a Sith Lord. Who was I? Her apprentice? Still? All this time, I thought I was the one guiding her, subtly and slowly making her gain weight without her suspecting anything. But she was the one in control all along, wasn’t she? Entranced by a lioness’s beauty, I had crept into her cage to feed her, and had created a monster – and she was going to eat me whole.

I was so hard.

Benching begins in five… four… three… two… one…

The weight was up! I swore and spat at the ceiling because I’d screwed-up my grip. But if I racked it to adjust myself, I was disqualified. I had to keep pushing! In spite of the lactic acid boiling in my limbs and my heart beginning to race, I couldn’t stop! Not until I couldn’t go anymore!

I didn’t even see the two spotters on either side of me until I started slowing down. They inched into my field of vision like vultures around a carcass. But I refused to die – they’d have to steal the bar from my hands!

If I could’ve thrown the bar up, I would. But I was finally wearing out. Was it my imagination, or were there fewer coaches counting reps? Were people giving up now? I didn’t dare stop. What number was I even on?

“Twenty-one!”

Fuck! I could still get more! This was the last chance! The last set! The final battle! Candace was screaming like she was lifting a tank off herself. If I could hear her pushing herself, I would keep going. No way I couldn't give up if she wasn’t either. We shared the same routine! We were choreographed – we fought as one! Side by side!

“Twenty-six!”

My limit was three reps ago. I watched the bar hover and shake over my head. I knew that if I lowered it again, it would not go up. I lowered it to my chest…

More people flocked to my sides, all yelling, all willing me to lift the bar just one more time, but the bar rested atop my chest, crushing my sternum. Maybe if I could take a few more breaths and wriggle my fingers into a better position, I could rack it. With Herculean effort I arched my back skywards, clenched my teeth, and began to push. It was rising, one inch, two inches…

“Cody!”

Out of a sea of faces, Eric squeezed himself into view. His meaty arm reached down, grabbed my bar, and began to lift.

“No!” I yelled at his grinning face. “I can still lift!”

“Get off him!” a coach made a move at him.

               All of a sudden, there was pandemonium. Coaches scrambled to wrest Eric away from me as four spotters heaved the weight from me. I watched the bar get set in place. It was over. I was over.

               Candace screamed in the distance and clanked her bar back onto its rack.

               It’s done!” the speakers blared. “Give it up for the midweight contestants! Get ready to welcome our heavyweight contestants, representing nine gyms throughout…

               I rose to a sitting position and drew in ragged, shaking breaths. “What the fuck?” I asked my quivering fingers. “What the fuck?”

               Eric had stolen that last rep from me. How could I have been so stupid? Candace was right! He’d planned sabotage all along! He stopped my reps at the most critical moment all to guarantee his placing in the finals. Of course! And now I’d lost…

               The heavyweights were closing-in on the equipment. Almost all the midweights were on their way out.

               “Can you walk?” a coach asked. “You good, man?”

               “Yeah,” I nodded with heavy breaths. “I’m on my way out.”

 

               Out of sight of the crowd, Candace hurried to my side, breasts wobbling against each other.

               “Cody,” she stood before me. “What’s wrong?”

               “You were right,” I said dejectedly. “Eric was going to cheat all along…”

               Suddenly, she was gripping my shoulders, fingernails digging into my skin as she stared wildly at me.

               “He’s disqualified,” she said maniacally.

               “…what?

               “He touched someone while they were repping! He lost his position in the finals!” in spite of herself, she laughed.

               Rick approached us from behind. “Yo! Cody! Did you hear the good news? You got bumped-up to fifth place! You’re one of the finalists, man!”

               “What!?” I could feel my body shaking with adrenaline. “How? What just…”

               Eric. He’d finished before me, done the math, and realized I could place as a finalist – if he disqualified himself. Oh my God… I could feel my eyes moistening…

               “Looks like it’s the three of us,” Rick grinned. “You, me, and Candace here against some dudes from the other side of town. Three against two! Our gym will take it all…”

               “Huh?” Candace looked at him, eyes wide and innocent. “You’re a finalist too?”

               “Hell yeah.”

               “Nice,” she squinted.

 

               About an hour later, a coach came in to see us resting in one of the back rooms.

               “So here it is,” he said loudly from the middle of the room. “We just confirmed the finalists, so listen for your names… Bruce Vaughn!”

               A tatted man with a survivalist-style beard stood up. Damn, was that beard thick; I couldn’t tell if he was smiling or frowning.

               “Candace… how do you pronounce this?”

               “Zon-ka,” Candace folded her arms. “It’s Hungarian.”

               “Phil Botorff.”

               A short red-head perked-up from his spot against the wall. His arms were easily as big as my thighs.

               “Cody Hogue.”

               I straightened, breathing in with wonder. It was really happening! And all this time, I thought I’d been losing…

               “…and Joseph McClaine.”

               Joseph?” Rick asked, slightly shocked. “That’s, like, not my name!”

               The coach looked casually towards him. “You did pretty good out there; I remember you. What was your name again?”

               “Rick,” he answered confidently. “Rick Dunford.”

               The coach looked at a list he was holding. Puzzled, he flipped to the second and last page before looking up. “Your name’s not on the list.”

               “I could’ve sworn I signed-in,” Rick shook his head.

               “I’m afraid the finalists are locked-in at this point.”

               “…bruh,” Rick looked at me awkwardly. “Dude. This totally blows. But… two finalists from the same gym? Overkill.”

               “We’ll make it,” I smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll stay and watch, right?”

               “Hell yeah. I’ll be right next to Eric out there. Kill it, dudes.”

               As the five of us walked out towards the stage again, I rubbed Candace’s back and smiled at her. “You ready?”

               She squinted at me mischievously, eating her lower lip to keep herself from laughing out loud.

 

               This time it was different. This time there were only five of us. They’d cleared the equipment and reassembled five sets of them in a circle so that we’d be facing each other the entire time. We shared a look at each other as the crowd began to rile itself up.

               Contestants, remember that there will be only one horn this time. The number of reps, the order of your sets, that’s all up to you. There are no rules for how you get them in. Ladies and gentlemen! The midweight showdown will begin in five… four…

               Physically and mentally, I scrambled to ready myself. This threw a wrench in my plans! Now I could binge squats, which I was best at… then again… had to arrange the sets just right so that I wouldn’t wear myself out too soon.

               Aaaaannnnd it’s on! Candace Csonka hits it off with deadlifts. Bruce and Phil – benching with all they’ve got, no rest! Cody and Joseph hitting the squat-rack with a passion! There is no stopping them as they fight to be number one! This is a battle of willpower as much as it is strength. Candace snarling her teeth at the competition – wanting the boys to know who the alpha is… Cody racks his weight moving for the bench – he’s followed close behind by Phil, throwing in the towel and going for the squat rack – a blood-curdling scream from Candace as she spots him, watch out! Bruce is cranking his benching out one by one with no sign of stopping! He’s putting his money where his muscle is! He has arms for days – Cody racks the bar and makes a move for the deadlift, shaking things up before bending down for that first rep… followed close behind by Candace moving on to squats… Joseph has finally had it with squats, he is making a move for deadlifts! It looks like Bruce is finally done with benching and can take no more! He moves for the deadlifts… Phil is off the squat rack and makes a move for deadlifts! Ladies and gentlemen, you can feel the energy and sweat tonight –

               “What’s this? Cody, coming off the deadlift and heading back for more squats! He’s running for it! Candace shows no sign of stopping as she pushes herself on – Bruce has tripped, it is too much for him! Benching followed by deadlifts is not recommended… it’s four contestants left! Cody running back to deadlifting! He’s switching it up, a few reps in the bag, cycling between sets, keeping fresh…

               “Joseph quietly cranking out his deadlifts – is he breathing? Does nothing phase him? Phil has had it! He is done throwing back the water bottle over his face… there are three contestants left. Cody running from set to set, Candace roaring at the competition, and Joseph lifting like no one’s watching! It’s going to be close, whoever wins from this group. Joseph has raw power on his side, but can he be beaten by the alpha female or the tricky one? It’s neck and neck, the scores are up in the air at this point… Cody has thrown the competition off their groove. His shuffling is keeping him fresh while the others sweat… a quick glance between Cody and Candace. You can feel their hatred and anger between each other! Both motivated by the other to push harder! But only one of them can win…

               “Joseph has moved on to benching – only one point per rep. His tactic is obvious, because he means to max-out the two-pointers before exhausting his strength on the low numbers… another terrifying roar from the alpha female! She shows no sign of stopping! Joseph can’t lift the bar! He’s done! He’s out! All his strength devoted to deadlifts… It’s Cody and Candace and – ladies and gentlemen – you can feel their determination! Cody the underdog is still dancing between sets. He’s moving – flinches at the roar of the lioness! But his small build and high endurance is working to his advantage! Where is all this energy coming from? He’s down to two reps per set, but he’s still moving! Can he defeat this beast before she rips his head off –

               “His toe! Cody has tripped over the bench and knocked his head! The coaches – sweeping him away to safety! He is done! Candace has racked her weight. It’s over! Standby for the heavyweight finalists after intermission. If you need food, if you need to hydrate, now is the time!

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2 hours ago, dj2k1357 said:

Darn! Really in depth good chapter, but personally, I think Candace should have got the injury at the end, so she could have a period where she is less active and starts to pack on the pounds. Still, excited to see what unfolds next.

Ooh, she would destroy you if she heard the words coming out of your mouth lol!

As if she needs any help gaining when she’s been purposely stuffing herself every day for a couple months 😏🤤

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She doesn't need to have an injury in my opinion. I could see her being encouraged by how strong she is after winning the competition and deciding she'd want to continue training/eating the same way (more like a powerlifter) and just piling on the pounds. When she gets big she realizes it's too late. Of course, having her be unable to workout after realizing this would be the icing on the cake.

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Chapter Thirty-Seven

               “How’s your head honey?” Candace brushed my cheek with her palm.

               “I hit my forehead,” I replied. “Not my cheek…”

               “I know,” she patted my cheek firmly. “But how about I leave that red bump alone?”

               “Thanks,” I smiled down at her.

               We were standing in the midst of the room, surrounded by the crowds once again. There was no equipment left around us; it was only me, Candace, and the other thirteen finalists. The announcer had manifested himself into human form before us (as opposed to a disembodied voice) and had just announced the top three placers in the lightweight class, who were now holding trophies of varying heights.

               And now, ladies and gentlemen, announcing our top three finalists in the midweight class. In third place! We have! Mr. Joseph McClaine!

               The crowd’s hands clapped like a torrential rainstorm as Joseph was handed his well-earned twelve-inch trophy, crowned with a bronze, flexing figure.

               In first place, we have! Ms. Candace Csonka!

               Candace’s chest inflated with a deep breath of pride and relief. With eager hands, she practically snatched the three-foot trophy being handed to her. She hugged it close to her chest as she looked up at me like a happy child with her favourite Christmas present.

               “Cody, I’m so happy!”

               For our heavyweights… in third place! Mr. Archibald Harrington!

               Candace laughed heartily. “That’s such a funny name! Hold on… what happened to second place for the midweights?”

               “I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” I rubbed her back as I stared off into the sea of adoring fans.

               In second place! Mr… Nguyen… Abayomrunkoje!”

               “Abby!” someone corrected. The crowd clapped none the less.

               “Hey…” Candace’s eyes narrowed as she looked at what I was staring at. “Look! My parents are walking up to us! What are they doing?”

               It was true. Lily “Lightning” and Dirk Csonka were leaving the stands and calmly approaching us.

               “Oh, look,” I laughed. “They’re wearing their wrestling outfits.”

               “Huh… Cody? Is that your family? The two parents and all those kids around them?”

               I looked where she was pointing. It sure was. Mom and Dad were coming – a little more shyly than Candace’s parents – with four kids milling about them like a herd of skittish deer. Dad was wearing his grey suit. Mom had a fancy dress on that she had sown herself.

               For first place… we have Mr. Benjamin Giles! The mountain!

               The crowd clapped vigorously, cheering and whistling as my boss accepted his five-foot trophy with one arm while he shook hands with the other.

               Candace gripped my arm tightly, sidling-up closely as she looked at the increasing number of people began crowding around us. I could see several friends and relations from my end of the family alone in the gathering mass of people. I couldn’t play dumb anymore. I looked down and saw her eyes widen with the realization that something was about to happen.

               And now, ladies and gentlemen… it gives me great pleasure to announce the winner of second place in the midweight class! Ladies and gentlemen! Give it up! For Mr… Cody Hogue!

               Beaming with glee, I saw my modest three-foot trophy being carried to me (well, modest compared to those heavyweight trophies), grabbed it, and shook the announcer’s hand like a lottery winner.

               “Congratulations,” he whispered as he handed me the mic.

               Grinning so wide that it hurt, I scanned the crowd until I spotted him: my close family friend, Father Llewelyn Dwyer, who had braved sitting casually in the stands in full garb as people no-doubt wondered why he was here.

               Candace gasped. “Cody,” she whispered. “Cody, what is this?”

               “Your family didn’t want a Catholic marriage,” I whispered back. “But from a Catholic point of view, we aren’t married unless we have a Catholic marriage. Don’t worry, we’ll still have the big wedding next week, alright?”

               Then I raised the mic to my face, looked up at the overwhelming number of people, and broke a nervous smile.

               “Thank you all for being here,” I managed to say before pausing for stage fright. The screaming crowd gave me an excuse to catch my breath. “First thing I wanna say is, I am so proud of my fiancé for winning first place in midweight class…” more deafening cheers. “She always did say, ‘you will never be stronger than me – never,’” some laughing. “She’s right about that… for now. Uh, don’t let her know I said that,” louder laughter. “This contest has meant the world to us because it pushed us to new limits, motivated us to motivate each other, and brought us closer together than I ever thought possible – and it’s only the beginning.”

               The crowd was ecstatic. I suddenly realized that we were about to be the next viral sensation on the internet with this gimmick. Oh well. It was still the best day of my life… again.

               “Father Dwyer, may you do the honours?” I handed the mic to the priest, who had silently and patiently positioned himself before us. I clasped Candace’s hands in my own. Heart pounding, I looked into her wide, moistened eyes and fell in love with her all over again.

               “Do you, Cody Hogue, take this woman to be your lawful, wedded wife?”

               Breath left me. “I do.”

               “And do you, Candace Csonka, take this man to be your lawful, wedded husband?”

               “I do,” she stared at me with childlike wonder.

               “I hereby pronounce you husband and wife… you may kiss the bride.”

               Holding onto Candace for dear life, I fell into her embrace and kissed her with all my might. No matter how tightly I kept my eyes closed, I could hear the entire chamber erupt with the full power of a volcanic explosion. My trophy lay at my feet, forgotten.

 

               Later that night, I carried Candace all the way to the penthouse suite I had rented for the weekend in downtown. She was quite a woman – in all the right ways – but I still insisted on heaving her up all the way from the lobby, through the elevator, and up to our room.

               “Oh, Cody, look at the city lights!” she giggled, hanging half her weight off my neck.

               “You like it?” I grunted. “The way each wall is a giant window?”

               “It’s fucking gorgeous!” she slurred, about as tipsy as I was.

               “Alright girl… I’m dropping you on this here couch… while I grab us a champagne from that open bar…” with a final grunt, I plopped her smack in the centre of the couch, which faced a flatscreen TV hanging off the glass wall. Her body bounced slowly against the cushions’ softness, breasts wobbling.

               “Don’t take too long,” Candace twisted around to face me as I made a beeline for the fridge behind the bar. “I’m aching.”

               “That’s my line,” I replied as I opened the fridge door. Excellent. Fully-stocked with all the alcohols. I plucked a promising bottle out and eyed the cork with some confusion. Right. I’d forgotten about corks. Now, where was the corkscrew?

               “Hey.”

               “What’s up girl?” I asked, scrambling through counter drawers to find the elusive corkscrew.

               H-hey!”

               I paused my endeavour to peek over the counter to look at my gorgeous wife. She was gripping the top of the couch in a vise-like grip, leering at me with white fangs and an arched back.

               “Yes?” I asked cautiously.

               “Bring that bottle here.”

               “But I haven’t found a way to open it yet…”

               “Come here! Come closer.”

               Ah. She was feisty. Best to leave anything made of glass behind. I side-stepped the bar and began to approach one small step at a time. So far so good; she hadn’t mentioned me leaving behind the champagne.

               I stood by the couch, instinctively taking note of the lamp-posts, the coffee table, and every other sharp object I could bump into. Candace smiled broadly from all-fours and beckoned me to get on the couch with her. How could I refuse? I bent down to sit next to her – and was instantly trapped in a tight headlock.

               “Easy!” I twisted in her embrace and flailed my legs like a fish in a bear’s mouth. “Wow, easy!”

               “Hah!” she sat up on the cushions, bringing me up against her soft, globular breasts and plump belly. Lips brushing against my jawline, they found their way to my ear: “You will never be stronger than me,” they whispered. “Never!”

               “Well, today’s the day!” I challenged her, pushing my legs against the far cushion and trying to mount her.

               “You’ll never get me that way!” she gloated. With arrogant abandon, she released me from her headlock to face me as an equal. I scrambled for dominance, arms flailing uselessly as she swatted them away. I tried to wrap them around her sides, only to slip against the fabric of her elastic shirt as she twisted around me. Now she was on my back, sitting on my hips. My face rubbed against a cushion as she began to twist my arm behind my own back.

               “Uncle!” my voice was muffled against the couch. “Uncle!”

               “Ha!” Candace released my arm. “You see? You will never be a match for me!”

               Still wedged in between her massive thighs, I twisted around until I was looking up at her grinning face. She leaned forward, still holding me in place with those thighs as she planted her arms on either side of me, her breasts hanging just above my chest.

               Her legs tightened suddenly. “Don’t even think about it,” she smirked.

               “You won,” I sighed happily, giving-in to her ultimate power. “I could’ve won though… but your shirt… its so smooth and elastic. Very slippery…”

               She chuckled as I reached up with both hands to show just how slippery her shirt was. “You like it? It’s just polyester, but it suits the likes of you just fine…”

               Her voice drifted off as my hands rubbed the sides of her shirt more slowly. Her grin faded as I reached for the hem and lifted it over her protruding belly, hanging over me like a lush, succulent fruit. My fingers caressed the soft flesh lightly at first, then deeper as my drunk courage took hold of me.

               “You like it?” her eyes widened. “You… like it?”

               I sank my fingers in, palming handfuls of warm, tanned skin. Months of denying myself the pleasure of feeling her was being fulfilled like an unbearable itch. I felt for the swell of fat below her navel, and grabbed it so I could shake it fondly and watch her whole belly move. Only then was I able to look into her wide, startled eyes.

               “I thought…” she quivered. “…that you were… I didn’t think you…”

               I reached up with one finger to her soft lips. “Shhh… some things make more sense when they’re felt…”

               Both my hands returned to her belly. With some wide, circling rubs, I held her whole belly and squeezed it softly together. With a ragged breath, she released a slow sigh and I felt her stomach relax. It oozed a couple inches further. Again, I looked at her. She was as lost as a kitten, looking at me for answers, for guidance. I obliged by holding her hips and pulling her softly, slowly down to me for a kiss, letting the weight of her belly press against me.

               “How much?” I whispered.

               “What?” she whispered back.

               “How much do you weigh?” I slowly rubbed my hands across her butt cheeks, smiling.

               Aroused and confused, Candace leaned close to my ear. “Two-hundred nineteen.”

 

               “And you wanted to rub my belly for how long? Since it started getting soft?”

               “It feels so warm and good… I don’t know how to describe it.”

               “Huh… weird.”

               “It does feel good – me rubbing it like this?”

               We were chilling on the couch watching Netflix as the city lights flickered outside. Candace was reclined against me as I devoted all my attention to massaging her belly as she drank more champagne from the bottle.

               Candace sighed as she placed her hands atop mine. “Yes. Goddamn, but you’re good at massages.”

               “You’re clenching your abs again,” I poked her stomach. “Here, do what I showed you again: suck it in… now hold it… hold it… now let go. Suck it in again… and let go. That’s a good girl.”

               Contentedly, I returned to massaging her belly – now looser and bigger than it had been a moment ago.

               We continued watching whatever was on television. Personally, I wasn’t sure what was happening. I was far too into massaging Candace to care.

               Candace raised her bottle up to take another swig. Then she stopped short and put it back down. “Hang on… do you want it to get even bigger?”

               I squeezed her stomach more firmly than before. “Remember our first night together? When you asked me what I thought was sexy?”

               “Yes,” she patted one of my hands as it circled her navel.

               “Remember how I said I liked progress? That I was attracted to someone becoming better over time?”

               “Is this what you meant?”

               “You’ve grown so nice and strong,” I kissed her head through her black hair. “You’re always improving yourself, getting stronger and curvier all at the same time – you’re the best of both worlds Candace.”

               “So strong girls are another fetish of yours?”

               “Of course they – hang on! That’s two fetishes revealed in one night! No fair! You gotta tell me some too.”

               “Fetishes?” Candace’s stomach clenched instinctually.

               “No, bad!” I patted her stomach lightly until she relaxed it again. “Yes… fetishes. There’s two types of people in the world. Those with fetishes… and liars.”

               “Um… sure…”

               “Come on Candace! You can’t just hide your secret fantasies forever. If you think about it, you’ll never be able to try them out if you don’t tell anyone – tell me. I’ll try them out with you.”

               “Are you sure?”

               “Well… I’m kind of scared of BDSM, but if you really want to try it, then we can go for it. Baby steps, though.”

               “That’s the stuff with the ropes and needles, right?”

               “Yeah…”

               “That’s for weak bitches. I don’t need a rope to tie you down.”

               “Ouch. That hurt.”

               “So… hm…” Candace lay against me, thoughtfully breathing as her stomach rose and fell against my hands. “Where’s my phone?”

               “Phone?” I reached behind me towards the lamppost and grabbed it. “Right here.”

               “Gimme…” she snatched it and began unlocking it with a flourish of her thumbs. “So I’m not sure if this counts as a fetish or anything, but ever since I was little – a teenager, I mean – I’ve been drawing some doodles and posting them online.”

               “Wow!” my eyes widened. “You draw? You never told me that! I’d love to see them!”

               “I’ve never shown them to anyone – not anyone I know, I mean,” Candace shrugged. “I was just drawing whatever came into my head. Some character sketches, a few short stories, and stuff like that…”

               As Candace opened her DeviantArt app, my eyes bugged-out at what I was seeing. It was nothing like what I would’ve suspected!

               “It’s not sexual,” Candace started scrolling through her sketches. “I mean, not really. I just think they look really cute…”

               “You’re a furry!?”

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8 hours ago, Deoxyribo9 said:

Unexpected plot twist. Glad he came out... but so did she? Still nice to see we're getting a strong fat Candance. The muscles will definitely help carry the extra weight.

You could say that she carries it well.

1 hour ago, scl04 said:

There was quite the unexpected things through this chapter in a LOT of ways but I'm glad that both of them opened about their preferences (it's great that Candance doesn't seem to mind Cody's fetish but I wonder how she'll react if she keeps getting chubby :3).

We will find out soon.

plotting dr evil GIF

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It's here! At last! The final chapter!

The Epilogue

               Months had passed since our honeymoon, and I was walking through the sweltering heat of summer. That is, I was strutting shirt-less just outside the gym. With bikini season in full-swing, Benjamin had the bright idea of having me advertise the gym by walking around outside and letting my muscles speak for themselves. I was two-hundred fifty-three at this point, having just cut about twenty pounds of fat, and every muscle bulged and flexed as I grinned at passers-by.

               “Hey Cody!”

               I turned and spotted Hannah walking up. “Hannah! How’s it going?”

               She beamed happily. “Just finished cutting.”

               “I see that,” I glanced down at her trim body and washboard abs. She’d essentially become just as thin as when I met her – except her ass and thighs were almost twice as big with muscle now. “So have you thought about what you wanna eat to celebrate? I’m almost done cutting myself.”

               “Steak,” her eyes fluttered at the thought. “Buttered steak, corn, and a baked potato – the kind where you cut the top and stuff it with cheese.”

               “Ooh, that’s a good dish,” I remarked, folding my arms. “Tonight? I can move my cheat meal a couple days, no problem.”

               “Sure! You’ll bring Candace, right?”

               “Of course,” I winked. “Hey, good luck working out today! Eric’s training you this time, right?”

               “Yeah, but I miss your sessions. Eric talks like a jock. Anyway, be seeing you!”

               “Bye!” I waved. I returned to my strutting. Plenty of people were walking around me at this point since lunch was about to start. The closest person was a waif-thin blonde girl with thick glasses. I instinctually figured she was a feminist hipster, then chided myself for using stereotypes and grinned at her.

               “Hey, how you doing?” I faced her when she stopped walking. “Wanna sign up for our gym? Free membership for a month and all…”

               She faced me with a wide stance and hands on her hips, barely a hundred pounds of self-righteousness. “What, is my body not up to your sexual standards?”

               Feminist. Damn it, I’d stepped on a land mine. “Nah, it’s not that. Working out is fun! You’ll feel great!”

               “So you think I’ll just fall into your arms and work out with you just because your body reeks of toxic masculinity? You think because I’m a woman, I’ll just submit myself to patriarchal societies' interpretations of the ideal woman’s body?”

               She was using all the buzz-words. Were social-justice articles the only thing she ever read? Maybe I could find a way to speak her language. “Actually, I’m happily married, so my wife’s the only woman I have eyes for. I’m just strutting around to tell everyone about what’s inside.”

               “Well I’m sorry I don’t conform to your standards of ideal beauty,” she folded her wispy arms arrogantly.

               “There is no ideal body,” I replied humbly. “I know I look pretty buff, but that doesn’t mean I’m a muscle-headed jock. Like, if I wanted to be a marathon runner, I’d have to lose about a hundred pounds, but I’m training for powerlifting at the moment, so that’s why I’m so big.”

               “So if you really mean that, then why are you trying to get me in the gym, huh? What’s wrong with my body?”

               “That’s not up to me,” I said diplomatically. “What do you want to be able to do? What do you want to look like?”

               “None of your business,” she pointed her nose upwards.

               “I’m not training anyone for now, so it isn’t my business,” I agreed. “But my wife might have some good tips for you. She’s inside right now, actually.”

               “I’m sure your trophy wife knows how to please, but that kind of life’s not for me.”

               “Now hold on,” I raised a finger, feeling my cool demeanour flare slightly. “My wife is definitely not a trophy wife. She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

               “Oh really?”

               “What’s gotten into you insulting women you’ve never met?” I said nonchalantly, seeing her eyes blink hesitantly at my oral jab. “Actually, my lunch break starts about now. Want to meet her? She’s teaching a class right now, but she should be finishing-up right now…”

               I palmed the door and swung it open, looking at her invitingly. “She’s a lot like you, actually. You’ll see! I love her to death; there’s nothing she can’t do.”

               Hesitantly, the feminist stood her ground, unsure of herself.

               “It’s the least you can do,” I began walking in. “After dragging her name through the mud and calling her a trophy wife. Now, how would you feel if a man called you that? Don’t worry about it! We’ll see her and you’ll see how amazing she is!

               “Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “Alright. Let’s see her real quick.”

               “Yess,” I walked in, feeling the air conditioner blow cool air over my glistening, sweaty torso. “What’s your name, by the way?”

               “Why do you need my name?” she asked suspiciously.

               “It’s weird having a conversation with a nameless somebody,” I explained as we climbed up the stairs. “My name is Cody, by the way.”

               “I’m Robertson,” she frowned.

               Her last name. How cold. “Last name? That took me off guard. Well, I’m Mr. Hogue.”

               She didn’t reply, but wrinkled her nose as a sweaty man approached us: Eric.

               “Yo, what’s up brother?” he fist-bumped me and clasped my hand. I returned the gesture with perfect precision. “This one of the new sign-ups?” he smiled down at the glowering woman.

               “Nah, we’re just gonna say hi to Candace for a second,” I said. “You still down for dinner after work? Hannah says she’s down.”

               “Hell yeah. By the way, your girl’s in room three. See you stud!”

               As we walked towards the room, Robertson simmered with just as much feminine justice as before. “Your girl? Like you own her or something?”

               “Well, I’m her man, so we own each other,” I said as casually as possible. Room three had glass walls, so I was able to peek inside politely without interrupting Candace’s class. Row by row, tons of women in yoga pants (and a couple men) were splayed out on a floor mat with inflatable yoga balls. That’s right… today’s yoga class.

               “What are you doing?” Robertson folded her arms.

               “She’s wrapping-up the lesson,” I waved her towards me. “Come on! She’ll be glad to see you.”

               Rolling her eyes, she made a wide arc around me and entered the room.

               “No… wait…” I rolled my eyes. I sighed and followed her.

               All my frustrations and worries faded away when I stepped in and saw my wife leading the class from the front (fortunately, Robertson had more sense than to just walk between everyone and stood in the back with me). There she was, stretching her soft, womanly thighs in a butterfly stretch. Her globe-shaped pregnant belly rested comfortably in her lap, helping to push her stretch further.

               “Now, for those of you who are pregnant, don’t forget to arch your back,” Candace explained, pushing her body forward. “And be sure to breath deeply while you do this. Don’t let the baby get in your way!” she inhaled as much as she could, breasts jutting forward in her custom-made sports bra like water balloons in a pillow case. Her cleavage jostled with every move like flickering fire, and she glanced subconsciously at it to be sure her breath wouldn’t free her boobs from their elastic prison.

               Then she spotted me and smiled. I gave her a look. She knew exactly what I was going through.

               “Just one more position, real quick,” Candace reached for her yoga ball and slapped her hand over it. “Then we can break and have lunch, how about that? So this move you do with your yoga ball. Go ahead and grab it. Now what we’re about to do is rest against it like this… and just slowly roll your back across the top. This will relax every vertebra, every muscle in your back…”

               As the class followed suit, Candace rolled herself over the ball like a giant dolphin. Her huge belly pointed towards the ceiling as her boobs threatened to roll themselves out of their confinement. With lightning reflexes, Candace shot her forearm in front of them to block their escape attempt.

               I glanced quickly at Robertson. She stood in place and glanced back. Somehow, I think I had offended her again, but I wasn’t sure how. Best to be patient.

               “And hold that position…” Candace continued. “Hold it… and very slowly… roll yourself back off. And that’s it! Good luck everyone! I’ll be seeing you next Thursday!”

               The classroom bustled with people putting away their equipment. Candace stood up, waiting for me.

               “Hey Candace,” I approached her with open arms.

               “Hey terminator,” she hugged me and leaned in for a kiss. With her belly in the way, I shifted to her side to accept that kiss while Robertson stood awkwardly in front of us.

               “How was class today?”

               Candace smiled with a hand on her belly. “Kevin caused quite a ruckus.”

               “He’s going to be a screamer baby,” I patted her belly. As taught as preggo bellies go, there was still a couple inches of softness coating it.

               “Hm, I wonder where he got that from?”

               “Oh!” I looked up at Robertson. “This is Robertson, by the way… she said I was married to a trophy wife.”

               “Oh!” Candace shared my mirth as Robertson turned a deep shade of red. “Me? A trophy wife? If anything, you’re the trophy Cody. I did build you after all.”

               “I guess,” I laughed. “Robertson, this is my wife Candace. She trained me from being small and skinny to what I am now. I owe her everything.”

               “I…” Robertson had finally lost her high ground. “That’s nice and all. Good for you.”

               “I know what you’re thinking,” Candace grinned as I casually hugged her from behind. “How did this balloon train Cody how to bodybuild?”

               “Oh no, that’s not what I was thinking…”

               “It’s alright! Sometimes I wonder how I did it. Well, don’t let appearances deceive you. I’m still the strongest woman in this gym – and as soon as I give birth, I’m taking-up pro-wrestling!”

               “But you’ll take maternity leave first,” I reminded her.

               “Whatever. Robertson, you see all this padding, right? That doesn’t mean I’m weak. You know, being healthy doesn’t mean you look like anything in particular, or even stay the same weight. Your body naturally changes over time; you just have to guide it in the right direction depending on what you want out of it. By the way, what would you be interested in?”

               “Me? I haven’t… thought about it.”

               “That’s okay! If you want, I can show you a few stretches and nutrition tips sometime. How about after lunch?”

               “Oh, well, I was actually looking for someone and…”

               Hannah stepped into the room. “Cody, we should go to Red Robin… oh! Star!”

               Robertson’s face broke into a girlish grin. “Hannah!”

               They rushed into each other like colliding magnets, lashing themselves together with their arms as they shared a passionate kiss.

               “What are you doing here?” Hannah asked.

               “I got off early today,” Star Robertson shrugged as she patted Hannah’s muscled glutes. “You’re lookin’ good today. Why don’t you ever wear this at home?”

               “Because I get all sweaty and… hey, so you met my friends? Cody and Candace?”

               “Uh… yeah,” Star’s voice rose an octive.

               Hannah’s eyes glistened. “You’re gonna start working out with me? I can teach you all kinds of tricks!”

               “It’s uh… I’m fine with how I look…”

               “Please,” Hannah waved her hand dismissively. “Life’s about growth and progress. Always working to be better than you were before… aw, Star you know I love you and think you’re sexy, but working-out’s so fun! Cody and Candace taught me that!”

               Star huffed in frustration. “But I’m fine! I don’t even need to diet or work out.”

               “Oh,” Hannah’s eyes glimmered. “Ohhh… Star, I almost forgot. I’m done cutting now!”

               “Is that what you were calling it?”

               “It’s bulking time,” Hannah smirked, squeezing Star’s shoulders happily. “We’re gonna celebrate by going to Red Robin and – oh, you should come! We’ll all eat together!”

               “Um…” Star glanced in my direction. “S-sure…”

               “And I can show you what bulking’s all about! I know you’ll love it! I’m buying…” Hannah looked at me and Candace as she began guiding Star out. “So we’ll see you two over there in a few minutes? I’ll reserve a table for us.”

               “Go ahead,” I smiled. “We’ll get dressed and meet you there.”

               I couldn’t help but grin as I watched the girls go. I rubbed Candace’s arm, looking down past her cleavage at the massive pregnant belly beneath.

               “You know,” I patted her belly again. “I almost thought for sure I never would’ve gotten her signed-up.”

               Candace leaned her head against my bicep. “Hopefully she calms down though. Hannah’s got some weird tastes for women.”

               I laughed heartily. “Me too! Me too…”

               “Stahp… ugh, it’ll take the whole gym to get her straightened out.”

               “Kind of like me, you mean?”

               “Well, you had a good attitude.”

               “Ha! Don’t worry about that. I have a way with people… hell, the more I think about it, the more excited I get! If I could get this strong, imagine what she could do? She’s got potential.”

               Candace hugged me once again. “Wanna try showering together again before we meet them?”

               It was a tempting idea.

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So that's it! 141 pages, 67,613 words, and about three months of writing is finished at last! Here's some end credit music for you:

Thank you everyone for reading this story. I honestly had no idea anyone would be so into anything like this. Like, the first weight gain story I ever wrote was when I was 15. I would write from 11 at night to 2 in the morning, constantly glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one knew my secret longings. I would label the documents things like "Essay 2" to keep them as hidden as possible. This is the first story anyone besides myself has ever read! Now that it's done, I have SO many other story ideas to try out.

For the past two months, I've had another story forming in my head. This one will put the first story to shame! It will be the ultimate story! As much as I want to talk about it, I don't want to spoil the surprise -- and it will be full of surprises! The only hint I'll leave here is that I listen to music while I write, and I wrote Fattening the Personal Trainer to my Bossa Nova/Samba playlist (see end credits above). The next story is going to be written to the beat of songs like this:

Standby...

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Guest JigglyArms
1 hour ago, >_< 0_0 said:

The next story is going to be written to the beat of songs like this:

Standby...

Damn, this story was an odyssey through the wonderful reaches of the weight gain space-time continuum.

You listen to ghostemane? One of my favorite artists, something I listen to when I'm writing as well.

 

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I'm not really into pregnant bellies but it was cute to read how these two were still doing great in their relationship :D, thanks for this GREAT story and you can count that I'll be reading your next work without a doubt (specially after saying that it would actually be better ;D).

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Can I just say a huge thank you to you. I just checked back and November 1st was your first post on this story, that means we’ve been spoilt to 12 delicious Weeks of this story.

 

latecomers who yet to discover this story, they’re in for a dream!

 

this was amazing! Although I’m left on tenterhooks as I hope your new story insects candace and Cody’s life and their new born!

 

thabk you again!

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Just want to echo all the thoroughly justified praise, this story is the the absolute dog's bollocks. It really is masterful and warm story-telling from a man who clearly cares about his characters.

And great to see you've got the hunger for a follow-up story. Hope you do pace yourself because writing should be fun first and foremost. But given your attention to detail and your ability to involve us in your story, it will be great.

Seriously, congratulations my man!

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