ashitaka2

Madeline and Alexander Painter were about the most picturesque pair of newlyweds one could imagine. They were college sweethearts back at a big state school down in Texas, inseparable ever since they met in their freshman-year literature class. Maddy was an English major, a player on the varsity tennis team, and a sister in one of the most influential sororities on campus. Alex studied History, pre-law, and balanced his extracurricular hours between the soccer field and debate club. He proposed as soon as they graduated, still in the football stadium in their flowy gowns. Maddy couldn’t say ‘yes’ more emphatically: she wore that ring for another year and a half before they finally tied the knot, and boy did they keep up appearances when they did! The wedding was a fairy-tale (made possible by the combined wealth of the betrothed’s affluent parents), everything exactly as Madeline had dreamed about since she was a little girl. Their wedding photo was immediately framed and hung proudly on their living room wall: Maddy’s delicately curled, golden hair framed her beaming face, a smile with the most perfect teeth you can imagine. Her thin, toned, 5’4” body worked in tandem with her generous bust (which was often the subject of jealousy among her sorority sisters) to give her a model-esque allure within her tightly-draped white dress. She clung to Alex’s muscular arm, his handsome face and wavy, dark hair completing the image with a final brushstroke of beauty. That’s how their marriage began, a fantasy-start to their next chapter in life. Alex was nearing the end of law school, on track to pass the bar exam in about a year’s time and get a high-paying job at a firm somewhere in the city. Maddy put her degree to use as an English teacher back at her old high school. It made her smile to see her old teachers again, see the glimmer of pride in their eyes as their old student developed into the educated, ambitious beauty before them. Her students loved her too, many a teenage boy leaving class with a big crush on Mrs Painter, the hot young English teacher with a smile that brightens the room. It took no more than a few months before Maddy achieved the English teacher cliche: the Painters were expecting a baby! Her and Alex were ecstatic. They had always daydreamed throughout college about having a massive, tight-knit family, a spacious house in the suburbs, the whole Texan package. While Alex was still finishing his studies, they knew this baby would just be the first of many Painters soon to enter their increasingly-comfortable life. Maddy relished in experiencing the first several months of her pregnancy. Her and Alex got a kick out of her newfound cravings and mood swings, cackling about them together as she indulged in chocolate-covered popcorn or very specific fast foods. She was always beaming as she admired her growing baby bump in the mirror, and couldn’t help but feel it with her hands every chance she got throughout the day. At work, she was the pregnant teacher who couldn’t help but bring the topic into every conversation, whether it be chatting with the mothers in the teacher’s lounge or joking with her students about anything baby-related she could. She just couldn’t help it, she was over-the-moon excited! That excitement started to make room for exhaustion as she made her way through her third trimester. By nine-months she felt colossal: her round bump stuck out past her swollen breasts, her back ached constantly, and a small layer of baby fat stuck to all parts of her body, particularly concentrated around her hips and her butt. She filled out her maternity wardrobe as she stood in front of her class – one hand rubbing her belly, the other on her back – finishing her last week before going on maternal leave. A couple weeks and a grueling labor later, Maddy and Alex welcomed their daughter Rose to the world. While Maddy was able to stack her maternal leave along with her usual yearly teaching breaks to take significant time off for newborn Rose, the timing for Alex was poor. Soon after the birth of their daughter Alex had to focus on studying for the bar exam, Maddy voluntarily handling most of the baby duties for the first couple months. This responsibility gave her no time to work off her baby weight as she originally planned, and at times she’d stop in front of the mirror to inspect the changes. Having started her pregnancy at her usual 124lbs (a lot of that weight concentrated in her large bust, which was now even larger), she had by now added another 20-25 lbs or so to her frame. Her muscle tone had long gone, and her trim thighs were now thick enough to slightly rub together as she walked. She turned to see how her thickened rear filled out her yoga pants more than it ever had, and in the process caught a glimpse of an unpronounced roll on her back and a small, round belly poking against the fabric of her tank-top. While she fully intended to get back in shape once she had the chance, Maddy made sure to give love to her softer mom-bod for giving her the gift of motherhood. After weeks and weeks of hard work (on both their parts), Maddy and Alex celebrated Mr Painter’s success on the bar exam with some well-deserved champagne! After Rose went to bed, the young couple took their celebration to the bedroom for the first time in a while. Maddy had the time of her life riding her handsome, soon-to-be lawyer husband; Alex, still loving every moment of the sex, couldn’t help but realize how much softer his wife’s hips felt in his hands. Alex’s career took off with a boom: his enormous salary helped the couple start looking for their dream house in the suburbs, big enough for the family they’d always dreamed of. Meanwhile, Maddy resumed her job at the high-school while her parents and in-laws took turns caring for Rose. As the months went by, Maddy made an effort to get back to her pre-motherhood athleticism but found it hard to meet the same level of activity as she’d once known. Between caring for her baby and the usual stresses/trappings of a teacher’s life, she only managed to keep her weight plateaued around 150 lbs. Once the little family finally moved into their dream home, Maddy found the comforts and isolation of suburbia counterproductive to staying active. She made it to the gym less frequently, and as a result her plateau started to very very gradually slope upwards. Time ticked by in this fashion until, about almost two years later, Alex and Maddy were pregnant once again! She took the test on her 27th birthday, the little rambunctious toddler Rose running around her feet, and Alex lifted her off the ground in joy when she shared the news! He hadn’t done it in years and could feel how his wife had changed since: weighing 162 lbs last time she checked, Maddy’s squishy tush conformed around Alex’s arm as he held her, her motherly breasts jiggled in his face, and her more rounded jaw was framed with a little double chin as she grinned from ear to ear with that perfect smile. As ecstatic as they both were at the news, within each of their minds was a hint of concerned curiosity at how a second pregnancy would impact Maddy’s waistline. As it turned out, their concerns were now two-fold: Maddy was pregnant with twins! The couple couldn’t help but cry with joy when they found out at their 12-week checkup, their dreams of a big family being accelerated before their eyes. Of course, twice the buns in the oven meant twice the impact – Maddy’s appetite grew steadily through the next few months, and she found it hard to keep her mood under control. She’d keep snacks to sustain her at work – both ‘healthy’ ones like pretzels and fruit, as well as her real cravings like cookies, chips, and chocolates – and at home she’d often put her feet up in front of the TV with some ice cream to weather her emotional swings. Alex supported his beloved wife through all of this, even going out late at night to buy her whatever she craved, but he couldn’t help but worry. He watched as she tried counteracting her increased appetite with jogs, home workouts, and extra trips to the gym, only to slowly give up as her belly became heavier with the weight of their two children. By the third trimester, Maddy knew she had gained a lot more weight but refused to evaluate it until after the twins were born. Her belly was enormous, covered in stretch marks and sticking at least a foot out from her torso (it was often difficult to avoid obscuring the projector with her giant bump in class, so she started staying seated during all her lectures). Her breasts had inflated to an unwieldy size, creating almost unavoidable cleavage in her soft chest no matter what maternity top she chose to wear. Her thighs, hips and ass felt wobbly as she walked and were dimpled with cellulite, and her face now had a softness and proper double-chin no matter what face she was making. She felt like a complete cow by the time she made it to her delivery day, but it was all worth it when she held her two sons – Peyton and Theo – for the first time. Over the first month of postpartum Maddy made a concerted effort to get rid of as much of the baby fat as she could. She’d do home workouts and try to jog around the neighborhood while the boys were asleep and Alex cared for Rose, having to purchase an embarrassingly large size of new workout clothes online since she had outgrown most of her wardrobe. By the end of the month she was disappointed to realize that it was having very little effect: stepping on the scale, she sighed when the number ‘197’ flashed before her eyes. Topless and disheveled in front of the mirror (as one tends to be while caring for newborn twins), she examined how pudgy her tummy looked, suspended a bit over her waistband along with her thick hips to form an honest muffin-top. Eyes scanning up, she saw how her waist formed a pair of rolls on either side of her stomach, building up to the pair of massive, swollen breasts hanging from her chest. Her arms, once firm and muscled, now added to her ‘plushy mom’ appearance by creasing at the armpit and jiggling when she moved. Were she not wearing her largest pair of sweatpants she’d see how her thigh-gap was a thing of the distant past, and her ass was more pillowy than ever. She knew that she’d never get back in shape if she kept this cycle going – have a baby, go back to teaching, get pregnant, repeat – so she knew what she had to do. After talking it through with Alex, she decided to quit her job and become a stay-at-home mom, giving her more time to care for the kids while allowing her to take better control of her exercise and eating habits going forward. A few days later she started getting ready to go to the school and talk to her boss about her plan: she fought for an hour or so with her pre-maternity pants, insistent that she must be able to fit into at least one pair now that she’s not pregnant anymore, before conceding that none of them could button over her increased girth and pudgy belly. She threw on her most professional maternity outfit and went to the high school. The principal took her decision well and was supportive of her desire to be a stay-at-home mother, as were the rest of the faculty. However, after her recent digestion of her weight problem and the morning’s battle with her jeans, Maddy couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as she said her goodbyes to her colleagues. She couldn’t imagine what they thought, these former high-school teachers of hers, seeing their once athletic, camera-ready student/co-worker turned into a chubby mother of three resigning to be a suburban housewife. The new arrangement worked great at first: with a bit of occasional help from her parents with the b**s, Maddy settled right into her role as stay-at-home supermom. She cooked, cleaned, played, breastfed, changed diapers, read stories, and stayed on top of her at-home workout routines just as she planned! While the workouts weren’t the most intensive nor was her suburban lifestyle without a good deal of snacking and laziness, over the course of the next year she managed to shave off a solid 18 lbs of fat! She admired herself in the mirror one morning: while not much weight had left her substantial chest, she could see a real difference in her thighs, butt, and midsection. She still looked pretty thick, but she no longer had a pronounced muffin-top and her legs had slimmed down just enough to not come across as ‘jiggly’. While she would have liked to look more like her college-self, Maddy saw this as a great start: she felt more confident in this softer mom-bod of hers knowing she would keep working on trimming it down, and she was at least proud to be at her short-term goal of 179 lb: just under the official “obese” designation. But the progress of this first year was not to continue for a myriad of reasons; the boys were becoming more and more of a handful as they approached their fussy toddler years; now nearly 29 years old, Maddy’s metabolism started slowing down as she grew closer to her 30’s; Alex landed a big promotion at work, and to flaunt their extra income the couple started going out on extravagant dinner dates more frequently; finally, Maddy’s full-time suburban mom status started integrating her with a new group of neighborhood mom friends – middle-aged women who loved afternoon brunches, day-drinking wine, sharing recipes and home-baked desserts, and romanticizing the life of an indulgent housewife. The culmination of these developments progressively wore down on Maddy’s weight-loss goals. While she continued to exercise regularly, her weight started to plateau, yo-yoing around the 180 lb mark for the better part of a year, before slowly starting to rise again on the way to her 30th birthday. A few months after her 31st birthday, Maddy shared the big news to her suburban gal-pals that she was pregnant with her fourth baby! They were of course ecstatic, both for Maddy and Alex’s sake but also since the rest of them could now split Maddy’s portion of their usual afternoon wine among the remaining women. These days, Maddy spent most of her time outside of housework, playing with the twins, and sending Rose off to kindergarten with the gaggle of mothers now gathered around her granite-topped kitchen island clutching their oversized glasses of wine. She felt as close with them as she did with her sorority sisters back in college; ‘Heh’, she thought, ‘What would some of them think if they saw me now?’ Most recently weighing in at 190 lb, Maddy gained back over half what she had originally lost in the first year of her workout regimen. The muffin-top fluff around her midsection had mostly returned, and her thighs had started to thicken again. If her sorority sisters saw the woman that their tennis-star pal was turning into … she couldn’t help but chuckle. She wasn’t as concerned with her weight these days as she had been a few years ago. Sure, she still worked out and would prefer a slimmer waist, some more muscle definition, less chub on her arms and face. But hanging out with these women – all of them mothers on the scale from chubby to downright fat – had slowly taught her that there are more important things in life than your weight. Like, for instance, taking care of your family, or baking a mean batch of brownies (or drinking as much wine as you want). The way they playfully joked with each other about their flabby arms, plushy bellies, etc., gave her a small amount of confidence that she was just experiencing the inevitable throws of time, of age, of motherhood. Each passing day, Maddy felt less and less concerned about how many calories she was eating or what Alex would think of her appearance. If the way he treated her in the bedroom was any indication, Maddy assumed Alex couldn’t care less about her changes. Going into her third pregnancy with this developing mindset set Maddy up for some big consequences. The doctors warned her about keeping an eye on her weight as she was clinically obese at the start of her pregnancy, however when the appetite started to climb once again her newfound lifestyle did nothing but facilitate her pregnant gluttony. Any time her stomach called for something, she answered, no hesitation. As a result, she found herself snacking constantly. Her newly-trained skills in the kitchen (and the couple’s overflowing bank account) gave her imagination endless reign to create extravagant breakfasts, dinners, desserts, you name it. Her neighborhood friends would spoil her with their own home-made treats, things they knew first-hand a pregnant woman couldn’t resist. It wasn’t uncommon for one of the moms to bring over a tray of brownies when their kids came over for a playdate with the twins: by the time the playdate was over, Maddy had finished over half the tray! Alex tried to talk to Maddy about her habits as his worry for his wife and unborn child’s health grew and grew; however, he was met with a mixture of denial and lack of concern. “I’m just eating when I’m hungry, it’s just the baby!” or “It’s no big deal babe, I have it under control!” or “I’ll be fine, I’m still working out regularly, right?” were her go-to responses. After a few months of trying, he decided to let the topic go. Maddy waddled all through her last few weeks of pregnancy, often having trouble getting off the couch due to the massive size of her belly. Her friends started poking fun at how big her arms were, how she wheezed while eating, how she had to buy new maternity clothes to keep up with her expanding backside. There was a pang of fear in her heart while she laughed at these jokes, a bit of understanding that maybe she’d let herself go too far. These thoughts were waved away by the next thing she found to shove in her mouth. Delivering the baby proved challenging, and the doctors told the couple that they should avoid having any more kids or else they may risk complications in childbirth. Alex and Maddy were saddened to hear this, but didn’t let it take away from meeting their new daughter: Penelope Painter was born. A few weeks into caring for the newborn, Madeline finally built up the courage to step on the scale. She looked at herself in the mirror first: she looked huge. Her face was unrecognizable from her early twenties, a round, pudgy thing with no hint of jawline and a permanent double chin. Her arms looked almost as thick as her legs were in the peak of her varsity athletics career, but instead of firm muscle they were dimpled, jiggly flesh that struggled against the sleeves of any shirt she owned. Her breasts were enormous mounds of flesh that hung under their own weight, resting on her big potbelly. It stuck out as far as her breasts once did when she was thin, buckling under its own weight to form two large rolls, the bottom of which hanging a few inches over her crotch. Her hips were thick and wide, ridden with cellulite and squishy to the touch, her ass was bigger than a couch cushion and starting to droop and flatten, a doughy seat that swayed enough to force her walks into more of a waddle territory. She lugged her thunderous thighs onto the scale, one by one. ‘262’. She wasn’t really shocked, nor was she necessarily disappointed. She just grabbed her soft belly with her hands and shook it gently, examining the bright red stretch marks spread across its surface. She wasn’t chubby, she told herself. She was fat now. Very, very fat. According to BMI, morbidly obese. What were the odds she could actually get skinny again? After four kids, with the habits she’d learned over these past few years and bad influences around her at all times? ‘No,’ she thought to herself, ‘I’m a fat girl now, a big, fat, blonde housewife. I just have to accept it.’ And so, she worked to do just that. Alex took her to the store to buy a new wardrobe, in bigger sizes than Maddy even once knew were available. She kept up with her exercise only as much as her gluttonous body could take (which wasn’t a lot), and didn’t hold back on all the indulgences she felt she deserved. A couple more years flew by; Maddy was 33 years old, and the day was her and Alex’s 10 year wedding anniversary. They handed Rose, Peyton, Theo and Penelope off to one of Maddy’s friends to babysit while they went on a fancy date. Alex took Maddy to her current favorite restaurant, a fancy Italian place with desserts to die for! They had to ask for an extra chair to accommodate Maddy’s width, which made Alex blush in embarrassment but Maddy paid no mind. She went to town on the complimentary bread, ate an appetizer herself and an entree built for three, and capped it off with a big slice of decadent chocolate lava cake. She wheezed in-between bites and started sweating halfway through the meal, but she didn’t let it keep her from flirting with her husband on this important day. When they made it back to their house, Alex started leading her to their bedroom before he noticed Maddy had stopped in the living room. She was staring up at a framed photo on the wall, her hand rubbing her stuffed belly through the fabric of her strained dress: it was their wedding photo, taken ten years ago this day. Alex asked her if she’s alright… “Alex, you know how much I weigh these days?” Maddy asked with her usual Texan twang. Alex shrugged sheepishly, “Uh, no honey I can’t say I do…” Maddy stifled a belch, “285 lbs, I weighed myself this morning. You realize that’s more than double what I weighed in that photo?” “Yeah, I guess it is…” Alex put his hand on hers, “you coming to the bedroom, babe?” Maddy took his hand and slowly pushed it into her soft belly. “Tell me, baby, completely honestly. Are you still attracted to me?” Alex paused, but after a brief moment looked Maddy in the eyes, “Of course Maddy, of course I’m attracted to you!” “Really? Even after I let myself get so fat, turned into a big, fat, lazy cow? It doesn’t bother you?” Madeline started pulling him closer. “I mean, yeah, it bothers me a little? It’s not the same body I married, I can’t deny that, and at times I find it hard to… look past all the fat, y’know?” He could see her face starting to fall, and continued, “But that means nothing, honestly. Because it is the body that made my beautiful kids, and you’re still my Madeline no matter how huge you get. I will always be attracted to you in the end, love. All this…” he shook her fat belly with his hands, “This is just what a decade can do, nothin’ more.” Madeline pulled her husband in for a kiss, squishing her fat body into him as hard as she could. That was the final confirmation she needed, the final words to let her fully accept who she’d become. The years had changed her into a total cow, a morbidly obese housewife who can’t go a day without stuffing her face. But that cow was happy. “C’mon babe,” she whispered into her husband’s ear, “this fatty needs a good fucking.” The skinny, smiling model in the photograph looked on as the whale of her older self waddled her way into the bedroom, never again to worry about her growing size or the ever-ticking number on the scale.

Liz’s alarm went off at 5:30 AM: time to get up for the first day back from winter break. The bedroom was dark as the winter sun had not yet risen, but Liz could see the silhouette of her sleeping husband to her left, snoring soundly. She gently cradled his big gut (which grew a few inches over the holidays) and gave his dick a passing stroke. “We’ll have some fun tonight, baby” she thought, “Your big fat cow needs a good fucking.” Her weight tilted the bed considerably as she rolled to the side and started to get up: sitting up was the hardest part, and by the time she was on her feet she had to catch her breath for just a moment. She waddled to the bathroom to start her routine – brushed her teeth, did some skincare, showered, and then her favorite part… “285 lbs…” she read from the scale, struggling to see past her massive stomach, “I can do better than that.” The woman in the mirror was almost 80 lbs heavier than the one who ripped her favorite dress and had to wear maternity clothes to go out on a date: this one wouldn’t even be able to get the maternity dress past her thighs. The weight had exploded over Liz’s body: her face was now pudgier than ever before, her neck a thick column of fat adorned with two, often three visible chins. Her arms had expanded beyond belief, bigger than her thighs once were with swinging fat as a sign of her age. Her midsection was a mess of flabs, rolls and stretch marks – her large breasts rested on a massive stomach, extending so far from her body that it hung several inches below her waistline and completely obscured her view of her pudgy feet. The stomach had formed into two large rolls which traveled around her sides and to her back, which itself was made of several defined handle-like rolls. Often Rob would grab onto these rolls as they fucked, sending waves cascading through her doughy, flabby body with every thrust. Her ass was gargantuan, a real “lunch-lady butt.” It had been shaped by countless hours engorging herself while seated in one spot, extending outwards in large, jiggly hips more so than backwards. It was absolutely covered in cellulite. Her giant hips cascaded into her enormous thighs – Liz imagined that her 20 year-old could fit inside the girth of one of these things – which shook upon her every move and made an audible clap each time she took a step. The woman in the mirror was not the Mrs. Roper her students knew at the start of the year. No, they made that very clear as their amazed stares and secret conversations became more and more obvious, outright wondering “what happened to Mrs. Roper” and “are we sure this isn’t a sub?” An earlier Liz would feel broken by these comments, feeling as though she’d lost her identity or disappointed in her job as a role model. But now, feeling the weight of her fat, flabby body pull her to the ground, she didn’t know why she should feel that way. She only knew that for the first time in months she had control of her body, her sex life, her self-image. She had never been happier, and she was committed to keeping it that way one pound at a time.

From that point on Liz was as intentionally gluttonous as she could possibly be. She ate constantly, morning through night, and wore only the baggiest, laziest clothes she could buy. Even as she was lecturing her students would watch as their once-slim Mrs. Roper spoke through mouthfuls of fast food, packaged cookies, thick milkshakes or frappuccinos. Often a student would come by her classroom in her off-time to see her hunched over a mess of wrappers and crumpled fast food bags, gorging herself on thick, greasy burgers at an alarming rate. “Mrs Roper?” they’d say sheepishly, prompting her to grunt (almost oink) as she finished chewing and sat back to let her belly rest. “Come on in,” she’d say in-between belches once the food was swallowed. By the end of the day she would struggle to stand through the pain of her bloated belly, opting instead to teach from the comfort of her straining desk chair. At home, Liz was sure to put on a show for her husband. They never spoke again about the events of their anniversary night, but each evening Liz would be sure to be gorging on junk food and desserts when Rob got home from work, changing into tighter-fitting PJ’s to put her growing body on display. She would be extra touchy with him when he came over for his home-from-work kiss, often pulling him in by his ass until their bellies squished together and making a soft (but comical) oink sound as she pulled him in for a kiss. She could tell this disgusted him, but that was all the fun. The kids started to express concern about their mother’s behavior, but she assured them that she had it under control. Of course Liz was determined to not just disgust Rob with her fatness, but to force him past the point of disgust until he started liking it. So every few nights before bed, Liz would get completely naked in front of Rob and get her body all over him; sitting in his lap, shoving his face in her belly fat, getting on all fours on top of him, etc. She would push him to insult her, call her a fat cow, a pig, a disgusting whale, you name it. This turned her on so much that she would enter a sex-crazed frenzy, sucking his dick and talking dirty to him until he was erect. She would fuck him hard, harder than they had gone since they were in their twenties: even if his eyes were closed, she would push him to the point of stimulation where she could put his hands all over her fat rolls and talk about her body without his dick losing rigidity. When he came, she made sure to let him know the score, “You fucked this fat pig so good baby,” she would say with another oink. Sometimes she would even bring food into bed, eating a tub of ice cream in its entirety while rubbing her body sensually. Rob would complain, saying it was gross, that she was going to get the sheets dirty, etc. But she would just ignore him or say something along the lines of “Your fattie needs her dessert, babe.” Whether or not this was working, Liz knew she was asserting dominance. And over time Rob complained less, only mocked her in the sharp, jeering ways she begged him for, and while he would often still close his eyes during sex Liz felt that he was slowly exploring her body more and more, staying hard throughout. The months went by and so too did the holiday season. As she anticipated, Liz’s mother was heartbroken by her daughter’s appearance when she showed up on Thanksgiving. Her criticisms only made Liz feel more and more turned on, and through Thanksgiving dinner she engorged herself enough to make the entire extended family stop what they were doing and stare in disgust at her behavior. Her panties grew more and more wet, and after cleaning another heaping plate of stuffing and pumpkin pie she had to excuse herself to masturbate in her childhood bedroom. Christmas was similarly food-packed: while her mom refused to come over for Christmas due to Liz’s absurd behavior at Thanksgiving, Liz and Rob invited Jane, her husband and their newborn baby over for the holiday. Carrying a good 20 lbs of baby weight she was trying to lose, Jane kept her portions small. She watched in astonishment as her close friend and coworker stuffed herself with enough food to feed a family of six, and noticed the look of defeated obedience in Rob’s eyes as he made his wife more plates on her command. Liz couldn’t comprehend how many calories she was consuming each day, let alone how much cream, butter, sugar, any number of unhealthy ingredients. But through the holiday break she watched as her weight accelerated, her body blossoming into true obesity.

Liz didn’t stay to chat, promising to fill Jane in on the situation when she had more time. She got the dress and rushed back home, only minutes to spare before she was supposed to be ready. When she made it through the door she rushed to the bedroom and threw her clothes on the floor. The dress was still fairly tough to get over her thighs, but the stretchy fabric managed to fit her fat body in a snug embrace. As before she looked ridiculous, belly-button and fat rolls on full display. But at least she had a dress, and after the hellish day she’d had Liz pushed her worries from her mind and focused on the hot date she had ahead of her. Rob pulled into the driveway right on time, already dressed to impress. Liz felt his eyes on her as she walked to the car. From the look on his face she could tell he recognized the maternity dress, understood what had happened. He seemed a little baffled, eyes locked on his wife’s midsection with a sour look on his face for a few moments. He quickly snapped out of it and put on a smile, “You look great, baby. Ready to go?” They kissed and drove to the restaurant. A fancy italian **, they were shown to their reserved table as soon as they arrived. As she sat down to the candle-lit table, Liz felt her tummy scrunch into large rolls and eventually rest on her lap. She adjusted her straps as they were digging uncomfortably into her meaty shoulders. The dinner went well: determined to fully enjoy herself, Liz’s new appetite took hold. Rob watched as his wife downed almost two whole baskets of bread by herself, slathering each piece with a generous amount of salted butter. They shared a bottle of red wine, flirting and chatting while they waited for their meal. Liz got the chicken fettuccine alfredo: a large plate was put in front of her dressed with a substantial mound of pasta, smothered in rich creamy sauce and a whole chicken breast, breaded and pan-fried in copious amounts of oil. She didn’t resist, inhaling the dish mouthful after mouthful and mopping up the extra alfredo with more bread. She was having so much fun after the traumatic day that she didn’t notice her husband’s worried glances, nor did she pay any mind to the pig-like display she was giving the other diners. Liz cleaned her plate entirely, looking forward to dessert. It was their tradition, after all: each year on their anniversary they would get a nice dinner and never skip on dessert. But when the waiter came by to check on the table, Rob avoided eye-contact with Liz and gave him the go-ahead for the check. Liz looked at her husband, disappointed. She had abandoned all thought of her weight concerns for the night, so she only assumed Rob had just forgotten. She chimed in, “Actually, we would love two slices of the chocolate cheesecake. Right honey?” Rob looked at his wife, astounded. “You… you’re sure you have room?” “Always room for dessert,” Liz winked, “I can’t believe you forgot our tradition!” She laughed. The table felt tense as the cheesecake arrived. Liz dug in immediately, spouting its praises with her mouth full and mindlessly rubbing her stuffed belly between bites. She didn’t pay it any mind, but her stomach had expanded significantly through the course of the meal, enough so that bystanders would likely see her in the maternity dress and logically assume she was a couple months away from having her fourth child. Rob lost his appetite halfway through the dessert, reluctantly accepting when Liz asked if she could finish it for him. When the check came and went, Liz strained to rise from her chair. She was so full that her walk to the car was more like a waddle, her distended belly drawing stairs throughout the restaurant. As soon as they got back home, Liz was ready for action. She pulled Rob by his tie into a sloppy kiss while they stood by the bedroom door, her hand grazing over his large gut then down to his crotch. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it baby?” she whispered in his ear. Rob stroked his wife’s back, looking down at how his gut made contact with hers. “Yeah… it has…” Liz pushed him onto the bed and they both started undressing. Seeing her husband’s big, strong hairy body made her thighs start to get wet. She peeled the dress off and threw it to the floor, her pudge revealing itself and jiggling as she moved. She climbed on top of Rob with some effort, sitting in his lap as they made out. The feeling of their respective fat rolls squishing against one another was bizarre, but the intimate touch of it all made her even more wet. She felt Rob’s hands on her body. They explored her new softness, squeezed her cushiony ass and back fat, but felt increasingly more hesitant. Liz noticed that Rob was struggling to get hard, so she pushed him back and got down on her knees to suck him off. Stroking and sucking his member, it took quite a while for it to get stiff. When it eventually did, Liz looked up to see her husband biting his lips with his eyes shut tight. She kissed her way up his body then positioned herself upright, sliding his cock into her. It felt so good as she rode him: her fat bounced up and down as she went, making an audible smacking sound as her tits slapped against her belly. She ran her hands through Rob’s chest hair, moaning loudly, “Yes baby, fuck me so hard! Touch my body baby…” Rob didn’t respond to the command, just grunting with his eyes shut and hands on his chest. She took control, taking his hands and placing them one on her ass and one on her tits. His dick started to soften again, but when he removed his hand from her lardy ass and moved it to her other breast he started massaging her tits, getting harder and grunting louder. Eyes still shut, he moaned, “That’s it baby, keep going.” Liz bounced faster, her pussy dripping all over the bed. Within a few minutes Rob moaned and shot his load into her, and shortly after she climaxed as well. She smiled and climbed off of Rob, watching as he opened his eyes. When he looked at his wife his climactic grin faded and he looked away: Liz thought about the sex, about his trouble getting turned on and hesitancy with her body, and felt her heart quiver. “Babe,” she said, “why did you have your eyes closed the whole time?” Rob scoffed lightly and sat up, “I mean… I don’t know, it just helped me get hard I guess.” “You never had to do that before, did you? I mean, what were you picturing?” Rob shrugged, “Look I’m sorry hon, but I think it’s pretty obvious. You’ve let yourself go and it really turns me off. I was only thinking of you, just with less…” he gestured to Liz, “...you.” A mix of sadness and absolute rage swept over Liz. Was she hearing what she thought she was hearing? “So what, you’re not attracted to me anymore? Is that it?!” “Well no… I mean yes… I mean…” he threw his hands up, “What do you want me to say, Liz? I know you’ve been a little stressed with work, but you just let yourself get super fat and that’s not okay! I mean look at yourself,” he poked her soft belly, “this isn’t the track star I married!” Liz could feel her face heat up. Over their 18 years of marriage she’d given him everything – three kids, a loving partner with a fit body, all he could ask for. She didn’t press him at all when she watched him go from star quarterback to fat dad-bod over the last decade, and never once let his body get in the way of their intimacy. Yet here she was – middle-aged mother of three with a high-intensity, underappreciated job – gaining a little weight and all of a sudden she’s an unattractive swine to him. She couldn’t believe his gall, his immaturity, his hypocrisy. Brewing beneath this rage was a complex mix of emotions and reactions, one that only Mrs. Elizabeth Roper could make sense of. You see, as we’ve discussed Liz was a perfectionist; stubborn is another word for it, feels the need to take control and be assertive of herself at all times. So while other women may turn this disaster into motivation to get back in shape, Liz felt a deep need to one-up her spoiled husband. He was challenging her, claiming that he had more license to the state of her body than she did herself. To lose the weight may be the healthy thing to do, the right thing for her marriage perhaps; but the stubborn thing to do was to double down, make Rob live with a whale of a wife and force him to like it. On the other hand, part of Liz’s perfectionist attitude has always been a tendency towards self-deprecation. She was always hard on herself, as she was earlier this afternoon when she took in her new body. But something about the depreciation coming from Rob had a different effect: like a deep itch she always wanted to scratch, it felt oddly… good. Veiled behind her anger and sadness was indescribable pleasure, and as strange as it was for her she could feel a warm wetness spreading between her thighs once again… “Say it again…” she demanded in an aggravated growl. “Say what? That you’re fat now?” Liz shivered, “How fat am I, huh? Do tell me what parts of your wife turn you off…” Rob felt uncomfortable, like he was in a trap. “I don’t know what you want from me…” “Is this gross?!” Liz grabbed her gut and shook it around, “Tell me how disgusting I am, Rob, I’d love to hear it!” Her angry, sarcastic tone was a veil for how turned on she was getting. “YES, yes it’s gross I’m sorry! I love you I really do, but I think your body has gotten kind of gross. I never liked fat chicks…” “Call me a cow…” “What?! No!” “Do it!!” Liz was so wet she couldn’t stop caressing her body, “Fine, you’re a cow, babe! You just eat and eat like crazy and it’s embarrassing, it’s like I’m married to a pig or something!” Liz couldn’t help it and started touching herself, Rob watching her with terrified concern. She only went so far before she got up and stormed into the kitchen. At this point she was driven by necessity: she needed to get back at Rob for his attitude, and she needed to feel this pleasure as much as possible. Unlike the past few months of mindless stress-eating, what she was doing now was entirely intentional. She raided the fridge and freezer for all she could find, sitting naked on the kitchen floor with the doors wide open. She ate a whole tube of unopened chocolate chip cookie dough, stuffed her face with ice cream using her bare hands until the tub ran out, then started tearing through leftovers of mac’n’cheese, chicken nuggets, any and all previous dinners she could find. Before long she was a mess – a naked disaster covered in crumbs, grease and chocolate. She reached for the gallon of whole milk in the back, over half-way full as it’s used only for her morning coffee. As she touched her dripping wet pussy she raised the gallon to her lips and started to chug. It dripped down her face, over her double-chin and onto her stuffed belly. Liz just couldn’t stop, climaxing once again just as she finished the whole jug. When Rob finally walked out of the bedroom he found his wife sitting naked in front of a nearly empty fridge, catching her breath. He couldn’t believe his eyes, nor could he imagine what his words had just gotten him into…

She spent the next few hours crying, probing her fat in the mirror and obsessing over all the ways she could have avoided this. She just couldn’t believe her eyes: after 41 years of keeping her body in check, within a span of under three months she had ballooned into a lazy cow, the same fat mom she watched her peers turn into throughout the years. She imagined how ashamed her kids must have been to watch her spiral like this, what kind of example she was setting for them. She eventually picked herself up and frantically decided to do something about it: her panicked mind could only think to go for a jog, desperately dreaming that all her mishaps would melt away in time for the evening. Rummaging through her wardrobe, she dug out her largest pair of workout clothes she could find. “I haven’t gone jogging for a month,” she thought, “Please, God, let these fit…” She put the shirt on first, an Adidas athletic top that had always been too baggy for her. Her meaty arms squeezed through the sleeves like sausages oozing out of their casing, her circulation constrained by the tight fit. She just barely managed to stretch the shirt over her large midsection. The shirt would frequently slip up to reveal her pillowy belly, forcing her to tearfully pull it down every couple minutes. Her workout shorts couldn’t make it past her thighs: they pooled into the fabric like soft dough, jiggling aggressively as she tried to force them up to her ass. Finally she tried pulling with all her strength, ripping the shorts along their middle. Liz threw the shorts to the floor and started sobbing again… She eventually put on one of her pairs of XL sweatpants and started the jog. Liz had never imagined what being this out of shape would feel like: with each stride she was shaken by waves of jiggling fat, throwing her slightly off balance. Her thighs crashed into each other with each passing, getting uncomfortably chaffed and warm. Her belly rose and fell with each step, the bouncing causing her shirt to ride up towards her breasts and revealing a pale, sweaty gut to the neighbors every few seconds. She didn’t make it far before her fat body was drenched in sweat and she had to stop to catch her breath, feeling a searing pain throughout her body. Defeated, she returned home with her head hung low. For the rest of the afternoon Liz did the only thing she knew how to do at this point: eat. She sat naked on the couch with a bag of potato chips, munching through a daze of intruding thoughts. She thought of what her mother would say if she saw her now. “Damn,” she thought, “If I don’t slim down by Thanksgiving, I’ll never hear the end of it from her.” She imagined a fit, 20 year-old Elizabeth seeing her future – an obese, gluttonous mom who can’t even handle a basic jog – and felt chills run down her spine. The one relief she held onto was her date with Rob: no amount of self-loathing was going to keep her from enjoying herself tonight, forgetting her situation and just celebrating with the love of her life. And as far as she could tell, Rob didn’t mind her recent transformation; sure, her hectic schedule had kept them from being intimate for some time now so he may not have seen her naked recently, but he must have noticed the changes in his wife’s body and nonetheless chose to say nothing about it. After all, she reminded herself, Rob has been quite out of shape for some time now and Liz still showed him the same love she always had. Liz was looking forward to a night of pampering, unconditional love and passionate sex to take her mind off of things. Things got complicated when she started getting ready, about an hour before Rob was set to pick her up. She started with her hair and make-up, admiring how the fullness of her face had masked many of her least favorite wrinkles and age lines. Her hair now had noticeably gray roots. “Shit,” she thought, “no time to dye those away now!” She dressed it as best as she could, framing her pudgy face and neck with salted blonde waves. Then she went back to her wardrobe, and a sudden realization made her heart drop – Through all her stress and avoidance of addressing her weight gain, she completely neglected to get a bigger dress. She had planned to wear her favorite dress: a beautiful crimson gown cut just above her knees, with wide shoulder straps and a tastefully revealing bust. Logically she knew it would never fit her now, but Liz was desperate and stubborn. She pulled it from the closet and took a deep breath, unzipping the back and slowly stepping her feet into the opening. She struggled to pull the silk over her thighs, but with a few minutes of fighting she managed to force it up past her expansive butt. The poor dress was stretched to its limit: like shrink-wrap around a ham, the fabric squeezed against her thighs and dug red lines into her skin, a good five inches above her knees. Liz took stock of her abdomen, her belly protruding even more than before from her frantic snacking. She forcefully tucked the belly beneath the silk, managing to just fit her squishy arms through the straps. “The moment of truth,” she thought, looking at herself in the mirror. The dress was not flattering in the slightest – her belly was clearly defined, belly button visible, and the fat spilling over her waistline looked like an over-risen muffin. But now it was time to face the dreaded zipper… She couldn’t even get the zipper to rise an inch. Her back fat spilled through the opening, obstructing her progress even further. She got aggressive, tugging on the zipper with all her might. Finally she took a massive inhale, tucking her belly in as far as it could go, leaned forward into the dress and pulled. Amazingly, the dress just barely managed to zip up to the top; however, as soon as she exhaled ready to celebrate, her expanding belly burst through the fabric and sent a tear traveling up along the length of the dress. Looking at the sorry state she was in, Liz couldn’t bring herself to cry at this point. She just sighed at the loser she saw in the mirror, squeezing the pesky belly with both hands. Liz thought through her options, “I only have 20 minutes until Rob shows up, but I don’t have any more dresses that would be bigger than this one. None of my other clothes would be dressy enough for the restaurant… If they even fit, that is…” At her lowest point, she thought of maternity clothes. She once had a pretty nice dress that she wore while 8 months pregnant with Jonathan, if that can’t fit her fat body then nothing could. But as quickly as she thought of the idea, she remembered that she gave all her maternity clothes to her co-worker, Jane. Jane was the other teacher who was set to pop any day now, the one whose Pre-Calc classes contributed to Liz’s current situation. Liz and Jane were good friends and she lived only a few blocks away: when Jane announced her pregnancy, Liz was confident she would never need her maternity wardrobe again. Now it seems she was incorrect about that, and as uncomfortable as it made her she knew she had to make a call. Picking up her phone, Liz dialed Jane’s number, “Hey Liz, what’s up!” “Jane,” Liz sat on her bed, hand resting on her protruding stomach, “how are you feeling?” “Like an absolute cow, I can barely get off the couch! I don’t know how you did this three times and still look the way you do…” Liz felt a pang of sadness, remembering that she hadn’t seen Jane in person since her gain took off. “Don’t worry about it, you’ll be back to your skinny self in no time.” Jane laughed, unconvinced. “Did you need something, babe?” “Yeah, I… uh…” Liz couldn’t believe she was in this situation, but she had no choice, “Do you still have that one maternity dress I gave you? The green one?” “Yeah, of course! Why, do you need it?” Jane got ahead of herself, “WAIT, Liz are you pregnant?!” “No no no, I’m all done with that I promise! I just… need something to wear…” There was a pause as Jane thought through what was being implied, “Oh. I.. uh… of course! It’s yours after all. When do you need it?” “I can stop by now, I’m in a rush. Is that okay?” “Yeah for sure, I’m not going anywhere haha.” Liz wrapped up the talk and quickly threw on a pair of sweatpants and her baggiest sweatshirt. She drove to Jane’s house in a rush and knocked on the door. Jane answered – she was huge, her round belly sticking at least 10 inches from her abdomen. She had gained a noticeable amount of baby weight as well, her ass and thighs thicker than ever and her face full of a motherly softness. Upon seeing her friend and coworker for the first time in months, Jane couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping. She always knew Liz as the ambitious, fit teacher, something of a role model to her. Even through the baggy sweats and makeup, Jane now saw something much different: a sedentary woman, stretched-thin with a doughy mom-bod and sweat stains on her clothes. She didn’t know what to say, “It’s been quite a year so far, huh?”

The first week went well: she packed a healthy salad for lunch each day, took walks around the school whenever she could to get some movement in, blocked out some time in the evening for a brief jog and held back from the snacking and beer. But with the onslaught of important, coinciding tests in all of her courses, Liz's routine was shaken once again by writing exam problems and answer keys, holding extra study halls and dealing with unprepared students. The jogging was the first thing to go as she gathered more work to do at home and had less energy at the end of each day. Soon she kept forgetting her prepared lunch at home, scatter-brained from all she had to prepare for. Since she didn't notice it was forgotten until after she got to school, her only option was to swing by a drive-thru in one of her few ~15 minute windows between classes. The closest option: McDonald's once again. She would get the same deal at first, but as her stress grew so too did her appetite. Eventually she was getting an extra double cheeseburger with each meal, and instead of the McCafe she would stop by Starbucks to cash in her gift cards (given to her by her students and their parents over the years) for a large caramel frappuccino (much needed energy and stress-relieving sugar). It also didn't help that, given the sheer number of students she was teaching, birthdays were frequent. As it turned out Liz had entered a particularly dense span of classroom birthdays, many of which came with home-made treats like cupcakes and brownies. Due to the effort she put into her job, many of these students saw Liz as their favorite teacher; as such, they would routinely come by to offer her extra desserts that Liz found hard to turn down -- after all, was she supposed to decline such a nice gesture with the excuse of "I'm on a diet," while the student just saw her dig into three McDonald's burgers and fries? Nearly twice a week Liz was given a couple fudgy brownies, chocolate cupcakes, cookies or a big slice of cake, and besides her better judgment she always had them finished before the next period. Liz knew these eating habits were getting extreme, but the longer they persisted the harder it was to stop. Stress-eating was the easiest way she found to handle her situation, and the more she ate the more her appetite grew. But it was about to get worse: her exams were done, she waded through a week or so of intense grading, and, at long last, she released the results to all her students. Within a week she was swarmed with parent-teacher conferences, some pleading for easier exams, less homework etc., some screaming at Liz and calling her incompetent, claiming that their child (who couldn't find the slope of a damn line) is the next Einstein and she should treat them as such. These had always been Liz's least favorite part of the job, and with the amount of parent-exposure increased dramatically with her extra workload Liz felt more strained then ever. She left each meeting feeling defensive, angry, and stressed out of her mind. The Mrs. Roper of a few months ago may have handled this differently, with an intense jog, maybe venting to Rob or screaming into her pillow. But now, with the habits of the past two months instilled in her psyche, Liz followed her gut. Her stress eating exploded: by the first week of October, Liz would consistently grab a 20-piece McNugget on her way home from work, eat the whole thing before 5:00, shove chip after chip into her puffy face as she worked on the couch, make an easy dinner for the family then lie in front of the TV with a tub of ice cream in her lap. Rob would come home to see his wife halfway through the tub, the taste of countless calories on her lips. Liz's wardrobe didn't last long. With her appetite accelerated to such a pace, she started wearing her stretchiest work-appropriate pants to class as her usual jeans and slacks stopped being able to button rapidly. The school didn't allow her to wear sweat-pants, so her go-to became these stretch-fit pants with an elastic waist that pass as regular slacks or chinos with the right top. Her tops tended to be the baggiest blouses and t-shirts she had to offer: she knew her body was taking a toll, but she hadn't the time or emotional energy to really assess the damage at this point. However, late in the second week of October, Liz had an incident. She was about to teach her first Honors Algebra course of the day, the one with her son in the second row. As the class shuffled in she shoved the last of her second burger in her mouth and washed it down with her frappuccino: she stifled a deep belch as she chewed, rubbing her bloated belly as she swallowed. The class began, and she stood up to begin the lecture. The first ten minutes went very well, until... ~RIIIIP~. As she bent slightly to grab a whiteboard marker from the tray, the back of her pants split right down the middle. Liz quickly jumped up and covered her ass with her hands, in the process causing her ass, arms and belly to noticeably jiggle. She turned red, no coming back from this. After a silent pause, the class couldn't hold it in anymore and started laughing hysterically. Liz held in her tears and looked at Philip, who was hiding his face in embarrassment. After that incident Liz convinced the school administrators to let her wear sweats, buying a few pairs in XL. She was devastated by what happened, but couldn't bear to face her failure to get in shape before her anniversary. Her habits continued, and she avoided paying any attention to her growing body to shield herself from the pain. But of course the day soon came, and after a week of more stress binging and hiding under baggy clothes, Liz had to deal with the consequences of her actions. It was the day of their 18th anniversary, a Saturday. Rob had business downtown for the afternoon, but he would come to pick up Liz for their anniversary date -- a nice dinner and a night alone at home -- in the evening. While the kids were over at Rob's parents' place for the weekend, Liz got out of the shower and looked in the mirror. As she avoided looking at her naked body for some time, what she saw was quite a shock. She was massive. Her face (which she couldn't avoid looking at before) looked inflated, a prominent double-chin on her neck. Her arms looked like tubes of pastry dough, jiggling with every movement and rubbing against her body constantly. Her thighs had completely devoured her thigh gap, and the cellulite trail along their wide exterior led all the way up to her huge ass. She turned around and looked at it in astonishment, "No wonder my pants ripped," she thought, "this is fucking huge!" She grabbed her ass with her hand and felt how soft and squishy it was; she could grab a fist-full like a handle and shake, sending ripples throughout her body. Her belly protruded as far from her body as her breasts did, sagging under its own weight and forming into rolls along her sides and on her back. Seeing it bare in the mirror in all its flabby, stretch-marked glory made her start to cry. She took a deep breath and got on the scale, "You're fucking kidding me..." Liz looked in horror at the numbers on the scale. She thought 20 lbs in one month was atrocious, but through her impressive eating habits Liz had managed to gain over 50 lbs in 1.5 months, "209 lbs?! I'm so fat, what the fuck!" Not just fat, Liz was officially obese.

Perhaps she underestimated what she was getting herself into. Liz hadn't been this busy since her Master's, and it was taking a toll on her disciplined routine: each morning she got ready by 6:00 AM, frantically made breakfast for the family and downed a cup or two of coffee (with whole milk and sugar) before sorting out her mess of notes and catching up on math topics that she hadn't taught since before her daughter was even born. Most days she felt too rushed to make herself a lunch: she told Rob to pack the kids' lunches before they caught the bus, meanwhile she drove to school early and picked up a lunch for herself on the way. She tried to be healthy as best she could, grabbing a salad or smoothie to keep in the mini-fridge she had under her desk, but often (more and more as the weeks went by) she would cave to the easier and cheaper option of fast food drive-thrus. In particular there was a McDonald's just down the block from the school -- she would get the $6 deal for two double cheeseburgers and a basket of fries, often picking up a McCafe frozen coffee drink as well. She told herself she would eat only half of the meal today and save the rest for lunch the next day, but this was never the case. With almost no free period in her schedule to be considered 'lunch time,' she would find herself mindlessly snacking on the fries during tests and classes and taking big bites of the burgers in-between bells: before she knew it, her desk would be littered with crumpled wrappers and bags, everything eaten. Through the endless grading, teaching, faculty meetings, lesson-planning and one-on-ones with confused students she would often not realize the state of her desk until the end of the day. She blushed with embarrassment as she swept the trash into the can and shook the remaining crumbs from her shirt. Of course, Liz felt terrible about these dietary choices. She swore to herself that she would do better the next day (generally false) and as soon as she had some more time -- the weekend, the next school break, whenever -- she would get back on track and go on a diet. The problem was, as much as she felt the need to take firm control of herself and maintain her body as she always had, she felt a much greater need to excel at her job. She was a great teacher, always has been, and Liz was convinced that meant she could never cut corners, give everything her all lest she disappoint herself or, worse yet, one of her students. So, after coming home from work around 4:30 PM she would start grading right away, often while downing a beer or some wine and grazing on various snacks like chips or pretzels. While before she would go jogging every other day before dinner, these days Liz only managed to go once, maybe twice a week. Rob had a long commute from his sales job downtown so Liz would be in charge of dinner, often heating up frozen food or ordering take-out rather than her usual home-cooked meals. By the time Rob got home at 7:30 PM, Liz would be taking some much-needed rest on the couch, lounging while flipping through channels with another beer. The weekends weren't much better; while she did less work over the weekend and Rob was around to help with dinner, she was so exhausted from the week that she would often stay reclined for most of the day, staying in her PJ's and reading or napping. A month into the school year, these habits obviously had an effect on Liz's appearance. The stress of the past month had introduced more than a few grey hairs into her shoulder-length blonde hair, but the main impact was on her body. Liz's ass was at least an inch wider and significantly squishier, jiggling whenever she adjusted in her seat or stood up too fast. Her thighs started to close the gap between her legs, slightly rubbing against one another with each step she took. She noticed marks on her arms where her t-shirt sleeves had started to dig into the doughy skin, and she could feel them wobble as she gestured to the whiteboard in class. Her jawline was getting rounded away and the slightest hint of a double-chin was beginning to form. Her belly was often bloated from her fast-food habits, constant snacking and beer drinking, reminding her of the early-showing stages of her past pregnancies. When not bloated, Liz's stomach was noticeably softer, hanging slightly over the waist of her pants and forming into rolls while she bent forward in her chair. Liz noticed all of this passively, through occasional observations and fleeting glances in the mirror. However, she had yet to face it directly, yet to have any wardrobe mishaps or uncomfortable encounters with another person noticing her gain. Out of curiosity one morning she stepped on the scale, ready to catch the situation before it got out of hand. "153 lbs?!" she quietly gasped to herself, "23 lbs in a month? Jesus..." She remembered being this heavy with baby-weight, but knowing the damage was all her doing astonished her. "Rob and I's anniversary is about a month and a half away, I'm sure I can lose it by then." With that she formed a goal: by October 23rd, about 45 days from now, she would reclaim control of her routine and get back down to 130 lbs. What Liz failed to consider: exams, birthdays, and the power of stress.

The morning sun seeped through the curtains, lighting the bedroom more and more as the hours went by. Elizabeth awoke to the sound of her alarm: 7:30AM, time to get the day started. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. "Last day of summer," she thought, "Going to miss waking up this late..." As a teacher at the local high school and mother of 3, her sleep schedule was going to take quite a hit in the next few days. So, she took her time to enjoy this lazy moment, watching the sun dance around the room. A loud snore came from her left: her husband, Robert, was out cold. She smiled and gently ran her hand over his body before getting up and walking to the bathroom. Liz went through her usual bathroom routine -- brushed her teeth, did some skincare, took a shower -- then found herself in front of the mirror as she dried her hair. She examined her body: her 5'5'', 130 lbs frame had seen better days to be sure, but Liz knew things could be much worse. Her high-school and college years were packed with athletics, swimming and track primarily. Thus through her teens and twenties she was accustomed to a very tight, fit body: flat stomach with visible abs, toned ass, generous yet perky breasts and a slender waist. Now at the ripe old age of 41, the woman in the mirror had none of those things. Her stomach was soft, not big but just padded enough for a tiny tummy when viewed from the side and no sign of abs. Her breasts had grown through her pregnancies but had also started to droop, and her muscly ass was now like a pair of moderately-sized squishy cushions. Overall she was fairly proud of her appearance: given her 14 years of motherhood and 15 years as a teacher, her fate up to now had been excellent compared to many of her peers. She watched as her college friends and co-workers ballooned through the years and turned more and more sedentary: Liz on the other hand stayed quite active, jogging every couple days, going on and off of diets every so often, maintaining what her husband liked to call a 'mom-ish bod'. While there were some things about herself that she couldn't control -- her ever-more noticeable crows' feet, slowing metabolism and pregnancy-induced stretch-marks -- her perfectionist, controlling personality was more or less satisfied by what she saw in the mirror. Giving her somewhat doughy arms a little jiggle, she shook herself away and continued with her routine. The morning was entirely typical. She let the kids (and husband) sleep in while she made pancakes, sipping the first of her several daily cups of coffee. Her eldest son, 14 year-old Philip, awoke first, then 10 year-old Jonathan and finally her 8 year-old daughter Madeline. Her 45 year-old hubby didn't wake up for almost another hour, giving his wife a kiss on the lips and a sneaky smack on the ass. Liz loved how playful Rob could be, biting her lip and giving him a wink. He was a big guy with big strong arms, a doughy beer gut and a scruffy short-cut beard. Although she often wished he had taken care of his body as well as she had throughout the years, he still turned her on just as much as he did when she met him -- a jacked, handsome quarterback on their college football team. Liz sighed as she watched him inhale two stacks of pancakes and a tall glass of OJ. Throughout the day Liz and the kids prepared themselves for the upcoming school year, relaxing and freaking out in their own respective ways. This was a significant year; for one, Philip was starting his first year of high-school, and he was slotted to take Honors Algebra taught by his mom! He felt a little embarrassed by the idea, but was nevertheless excited to see his mom at work. Second, Liz had a busy year ahead of her; while she usually splits teaching her other course (Pre-Calculus) with another teacher, the other teacher was expecting a baby early in the school year. To save on hiring a long-term sub, Liz now had all periods of the course to herself -- two more classes to teach than usual! While she knew she would be a little stressed, being the perfectionist she was she was excited to show off more of her teaching prowess. Or at least that's what she thought, until... *Incoming Call: Principal Rodriguez* Liz was surprised to see her phone light up with this message, and took the call. She leaned on the kitchen counter as the conversation went on: "... Liz, I'm really sorry to ask you this as I know you've got a big schedule as it is. If you can't accept we can try to figure out a substitute or something but it just wouldn't be easy." "So you're saying he really just quit? Just like that?" "Yes, Mr. Bernard resigned just this morning, says he has to move out of state for a family emergency. His other classes we can handle, but you're the only faculty member with the certification to teach his AP Calculus classes. I know it's last minute, but if you are willing to take on the challenge we can arrange a raise." Liz's heart was pounding: on top of her already hectic schedule, would she really be able to take on another busy couple of classes, let alone an AP? And she hadn't taught that material for almost a decade, she would have to practically improvise in class, or put in extra hours at home to prepare and jog her memory! But then again... "I'll do it sir, you can count on me." After all, Liz Roper was a perfectionist, always looking to push herself and prove her excellence. With the offer of a pay raise and the chance to look heroic, how could she refuse?