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FatPrincess

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  1. >w<, you got a fan! It cleaned up nicely, don't be too hard on yourself. The sulfur references were well done.
  2. Here's a link to get you started. Capture date nav is at the top. https://web.archive.org/web/20110201072542/http://fatgirlsarelove.deviantart.com/gallery/
  3. Archive.org Try different spiderbot dates if the story you want doesn't load.
  4. The Sweatpants of Nikki, Vol 2 by *FGAL June 16, 2010 Reposted without permission Gotten So Big Halfway through that July, I'd tipped the scales at 453 pounds and it coincided perfectly with my first gathering with my extended family since I'd started gaining weight. To make things even better/worse, depending on your outlook, said gathering was a cookout. Thankfully, I wouldn't have to go alone: Dan, who my parents still weren't quite sure how they felt about, had been given permission to tag along, mostly to give me a ride. They didn't say it, but I knew that it was because my parents would have a lot of stuff with them in the car and I probably wouldn't fit. I'd also started wearing The Sweatpants again, and they were actually starting to fit me rather well. But, of course, I wasn't going to wear sweatpants to a hot cookout. Instead I opted for a pair of jeans cut off at the knee and a red tank top, both of which were the perfect kind of tight: form-fitting but not ripping yet. "So," Dan inquired as we turned onto the road that led to my aunt's house, "How does the rest of your family feel about you being… big?" "We're still using euphemisms? Really? I'm twice as heavy as I'd need to be obese now, I think that we can call me fat. We're there. We've reached that point." "Okay, fine," he amended, "How does the rest of your family feel about you being a huge cow?" "They don't know," I said matter-of-factly as I licked grease from my recently-eaten bag of chips off my fingers and unscrewed the cap of my two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew. "I figure it'll be a nice surprise." "You're so evil," he laughed, turning to poke me in the belly for a second. The small prod made my gut wobble for a few seconds and I squeaked like the Pillsbury Doughboy. Things he did like that actually somehow encouraged me to stuff my face, which was how I was 20 pounds heavier than my usual ten-pounds-per-month schedule would dictate. Yes, he enjoyed it when I got fatter, but, weirdly enough, I was starting to go further than tolerating it and I was actually starting to like being, as Dan and I had recently called it, "double-obese." I liked that I jiggled with every movement, I liked that my thighs rubbed together with every step, and I actually seriously lovedthat I sometimes needed two and a half chairs to seat my massive ass on. This must be what Rachel feels like, wherever the hell she is. I'd even started to need to buy all of my clothes from that stupid store she liked. I gulped down four large mouthfuls of soda, screwing the cap on as I burped loudly. "But I think my family'll love you even if they don't love the complete havoc you've been wreaking on my weight." "Are you saying that you were thin when we started dating?" He said with an air of joking disbelief. "No," I corrected him, "But I've gained sixty pounds in four months, which is more than usual. I blame my latest twenty pounds entirely on you." "Well, if it means anything, I'm proud that I've made you fatter," he laughed, pulling over at a gas station. "I gotta take a leak. Be right back." He leaned over to give me a quick kiss before hopping out of the car and entering the gas station to empty his bladder. In my head, I went over how my family would probably take my sudden immense obesity. The aunt whose house it was had had weight issues in the past, so she probably wouldn't say anything. My cousins would probably make a couple of jokes, and my uncles might mock me a bit more, but I was pretty sure that nobody would be too bad. I lifted up my shirt and felt my gut, flopping it up and down a few times. My hands crept upward and felt my ever-gifted chest, now bursting out of all of my DDD (or, as I referred to them to sound bigger even though they were technically the same size, F) bras, beneath a rather sexy white bikini that I'd put on just in case my aunt's pool was open or my uncle started one of his famous surprise water-balloon assaults. "Having fun feeling yourself?" Dan's voice jolted me back to reality as I yanked my shirt back down. He tossed a two-pack of brownies at me. "You do realize that we're gonna be eating there, too?" I asked, stuffing a brownie into my face anyway and chewing on it loudly and messily. "I mean, I wouldn't wanna gain any weight." "No, no, that'd be unthinkable," Dan laughed. "But are you sure that you're okay with what your family might do?" "Yeah," I reassured him, shoving the second brownie into my mouth, "I mean, I'm shyer around them than I am at school, but I'll just have to suck it up. Oh, take a left here," I said, pointing. "Just go straight for a few more minutes and we'll be there." "So how big's your family?" "Three aunts, two uncles, four cousins. Oh, then there's my parents, but you already know them. Don't stress out, they're gonna love you." Just then, my assurance was cut short by my gut rumbling, drawing his attention. "Don't even stop again, I'll just wait for the cookout." "Wow, this is probably the first time in a few months that you've waited for food," he half-joked. But it was true; even at school, I usually managed to sneak a snack if I was hungry in class. The constant eating had been convincing me even more that I was starting to like being so fat. In only a few minutes, I breathed deeply and left the car. Dan and I had been the last to arrive, as I could hear everyone inside. I waddled up to the door and stomped in, noticing that my rear was brushing against the doorframe. A deadly, hushed silence fell over everyone, except for my parents who greeted us with "Hi, Nicole. Dan." As if they had just suddenly realized that the fat woman in the doorway was me, the rest of my family shouted "Nicole!" Everyone got up and began to crowd me, showering me in the customary hugs that came with family reunions. My incredibly tall uncle Darren was the only one who was able to fit his arms all the way around me, and even then barely. My aunt even let slip a "You've gotten so big since I last saw you!" that functioned as a wonderfully accurate double entendre. Suddenly, they all got away from me and flocked to Dan, attacking him with a barrage of questions that I couldn't make out because they were all being shouted at once. I put on a sympathetic face and mouthed "Sorry" to him before waddling over to the fridge to get a Coke, the bending motion making my rear stretch my jeans a bit. My mom came up to me. "Nicole, can I ask you something honestly?" "Uh… sure, Mom," I said, knowing that it was going to be about my weight. "Did you stop for food on the way here?" "You know, Mom," I lied, feigning anger, "I'm not some fat pig who needs to be eating all the time. I can control myself!" "What's that on your lip, then?" I raised my finger to my bottom lip and scooped off a bit of brownie residue, licking it off of my finger. "Fine, I had a brownie." "Weren't you going to get in shape by this summer?" "By the time I get to college," I bluffed, "I'll be thin. Promise." I opened my Coke and took a large gulp, leaving before she could say anything else. Although I didn't want to stuff my face in front of everyone, temptation was sitting on the counter in the form of two large plates, one of Aunt Lisa's cookies and another of Aunt Lynn's brownies. Both had always been my favorites, and their delicious aroma overpowered me to the point where I had to lock myself in the bathroom for a minute to get over it. When I came back out, the kitchen was empty except for Dan, who was retrieving a Pepsi from the fridge. I attempted to sneak up behind him, but my loud, heavy steps tipped him off before I was within ten feet. He put his drink on the counter and held me close, gently starting to rub my love handles. "So, how was the reunion?" "So awkward," I said, my eyes darting to the unguarded cookies, "Nobody could fit their arms around me… hey, watch the door, I'm gonna grab a cookie." He did so and I snatched one up, barely resisting the temptation to take a second. My reaction upon taking the first bite in years was so outrageously sexual-sounding that Dan actually looked a bit jealous. "Don't worry, Dan, I still like you better than food." "For now, at least," he joked, slapping my butt lightly, "You might as well be food-o-sexual." "Only a little bit," I giggled, kissing him and leaving chocolaty lip marks on his cheek, which I proceeded to lick off. His knees weakened and he grabbed the counter for support, turning to me and giving me a kiss. Suddenly, Uncle Darren rapped on the door. "Guys, badminton tournament's starting! Come on!" Dan and I stood there in the kitchen for a second after the door closed again. Dan looked at me, eyebrows raised. "Badminton tournament?" "Badminton tournament," I confirmed with an air of apology. I would have told him about it if I knew it was happening, which I should have assumed. The Woods always had annual matches of the game when we had cookouts, and I was actually a bit curious to see how well I would do now that I'd lost my advantage of being "the fast one." "Just play, it'll be fun." As Dan and I watched a few games pass, I started getting impatient from being able to smell the burgers and hot dogs being cooked behind me. Anxious to curb my hunger with something, I figured that sneaking inside and having one more cookie couldn't hurt. It never occurred to me that, since I'd had so much trouble fitting my ass through the arms of the plastic white lawn chair, something bad would happen when I tried to stand. Specifically, I stood up and the chair came with me, refusing to let go of my wide hips. I began to turn red as I wiggled my backside, the chair refusing to free me. Dan shot up and began to pull, and I started to whimper as the chair's arms started to cut into my love handles under my thin tank top. "Ow, ow, ow…" I cried, gently trying to ease the chair off of my butt. Everyone was looking now, which made me feel even worse because they were all whispering to each other as my parents sat there, looking embarrassed, not making eye contact with anybody. "Clench your cheeks together," Dan hissed at me as quietly as possible so that nobody could hear. I did so and the chair came off a bit, but it took one more final mighty tug Dan tore it off of me, tossing it to the ground as, mortified, I waddled quickly into the house and slammed the kitchen door. On my way by their table, my parents gave me that "We'll talk about this when we get home" look. I tore the cellophane off of the cookie plate and grabbed two, taking large bites and chewing fast, gulping down barely-chewed chocolate chip cookie much. I stretched the plastic wrap back over the plate and was just about to leave before the door opened for me, my 16-year-old cousin Amy standing on the other side. "Nikki, I gotta talk to you," she said, gently closing the door behind her. "Yeah?" I asked, not quite sure where this was going. "I'm not sure if you know, but… you're…" "Fat?" "That's not where I was going. You're… probably the fattest person I've ever seen in my life. You really, really need to go on a diet before you outgrow the house. Because, yes, I noticed that your hips brushed the doorway on your way in." Amy had always been rather annoying, but this was her straying into downright bitchy. I approached her. "Well, princess, I'm sorry that my whale-like physique is offensive to your eyes. Yes, I know I'm one of the fatter people a lot of people have ever seen in real life, but news flash: I don't care and it sure seems like Dan doesn't. I'm fat. I'm happy." Before I knew what I was saying I even let slip: "I love it." Amy just looked at me, slightly freaked out. "Whatever, weirdo. Food's ready, anyway, as if you need any more to eat." "Well, I do need more to eat, thank you very much. I'll make sure to gorge really messily, just for you," I said sweetly with an undertone of "I fucking hate you." She simply shook her head as she walked away. By the time I got outside, Amy was whispering to my other cousins and they were all looking me up and down with disgust. The cat of "Nikki likes being fat" had clearly gotten out of the bag. I was embarrassed, yes, but I wouldn't let that get in the way of the meal I'd been waiting for all day. With Dan by my side, I whispered to him "How much should I eat?" He shrugged and whispered back "However much you want. They've certainly got enough to spare." As my family did indeed make a serious excess of food, I helped myself to two cheeseburgers, a hamburger, and two hot dogs to start off. Since I didn't want to risk making my orgasmic food-pleasure moans in front of everyone, Dan and I excused ourselves to the den inside, which gave us the added advantage of having a TV, laptop, and couch. As Dan fired up the computer beside me on the couch, I grabbed my first hot dog and shoved as much of it as I could fit into my mouth, making a noise that was hilariously reminiscent of "Om nom nom" but with more lip-smacking and a small belch. I pulled my top up a bit to expose my gut and rubbed it with one hand as I took a few more large bites with the other, licking grease from the hot dog off of my fingers. As I heard Dan typing furiously beside me, I decided to snoop. Craning my neck to see the screen, I asked, "What're ya doin'?" "Gimme a second," he said, clicking on a few more things and then turning so that the screen was facing away from me. I then noticed that there was a small lens on the top of the back of the laptop and I heard a beep. Dan smiled. "Nikki, you're on webcam. Do something cool." I smirked, looking into the lens. "Wanna see something cool?" I asked teasingly, picking up my second hot dog, "Check this out." I opened my mouth as wide as I possibly could and stuffed in as much meat as possible, doing the same thing into my other cheek about a second later. My cheeks bulging with meat and the bun, I made a sound that sounded like a filled mouth's version of "ta-daaaaaa!" "Ladies and gentlemen, the lovely and beautiful Nikki Wood just ate a whole hot dog in two bites!This is truly a historic occasion in the history of Nikki being a fatass! Ta-da, the end-" "Wait," I interrupted him after ** down my hot dog, "You're stopping?" "Well, I was going to, but if you want me to keep going I guess I could oblige. What are you gonna do now?" "Promise you're gonna be the only one to watch this?" "Of course." "Then," I said, peeling off my tank top to reveal the white bikini top underneath, "Welcome to the 'Nikki Stuffs Her Face Show,' where I eat like a pig and my lovely boyfriend gets to watch." I grabbed my hamburger and raised it to my lips. "Bon appétit." As I took a large chomp out of it, I could see that Dan's jaw had dropped and still not gotten up yet, although something else on him sure got up. "Mm," I moaned every few bites, licking remnants off of my fingers, "Delicious." Dan's mouth was still open, and as I leaned over to fix his jaw I basically stuck my cleavage into the lens. "You sure seem to be doing a lot more than 'tolerating' being fat," Dan observed, and I nodded, answering him through the final bites of my burger. "Yeah, I meant to talk to you about that. Over the past couple months, I've been realizing… I don't know, being fat just makes me happy." "Yeah, you being fat definitely makes me happy, too," he laughed, "So is there something you'd like to announce to your audience?" "Oh, right," I giggled, directing my attention to the lens rather than him. "I, Nikki Wood, being of sound mind and fat ass, hereby state that I love being a big, fat hippo, and I want to get even fatter. I don't think I can really say much more." Dan shrugged. "Then don't talk. Maybe you can eat your cheeseburgers before they get cold." "Wonderful idea," I agreed, picking up the first one and taking a chomp out of it. Addressing the camera, I smiled. "Isn't my boyfriend just the best assistant?" Dan grinned and nodded as, over the course of two minutes, I emptied my plate and punctuated the meal with a belch and a tummy rub. "Okay," I said to the lens, "Time for dessert. Hand me my shirt?" I asked Dan, as I'd dropped my top on the ground and grown too fat to bend over effortlessly. He did so and peeked out the den door, seeing that my aunt was in the kitchen. "Uh, Nikki? Problem." "What?" "What kind of dessert were you planning?" "As many of the cookies and brownies as I could eat… why?" "Your aunt's in the kitchen." "Fuck," I hissed under my breath, "Wait, I got an idea," I said as I pulled my top back on and got to my feet, briefly needing to adjust to my center of gravity no longer being my ass. "I'm gonna distract her. You grab the cookies and haul ass back in here." "I like it," he said, "Let's go, Nik." He opened the door and hid next to the entrance to the kitchen as I waddled in and got my aunt's attention, making sure to face her away from the door. "Aunt June?" I asked pathetically, "Can I ask you something?" "Oh, sure, honey," she said, turning away from the door and towards me. "What's wrong?" "Will boys still like me now that I'm… fat?" As I finished the last word, I saw Dan pop in, grab the cookies, and pop back out with ninja-like speed and silence. I suddenly wanted the conversation to be over. "Oh, honey, of course boys will still like you," she said, pinching one of my fat cheeks- the ones of my face, mind you- and smiling. "It's what's on the inside that counts. I mean, that Dan sure seems to be infatuated with you." I faked a smile. "Thanks, Aunt June," I hugged her tightly before hurrying back into the den and slamming the door, kissing Dan passionately. "That was awesome! I can't believe we're actually stealing food!" suddenly, the reality of that set in. "Oh, wow, we just stole food so I can get fatter. That's… well, that's pretty awesome, actually." I sat down on the couch and popped out the footrest this time, opting to keep my top on as I began to quickly devour the sweets. Dan pointed the webcam at me and faked a horrible Aussie accent. "Lookit this! The Nikki in her natural habitat! Watch as she quickly stuffs her face and marvel that, two and a half years ago, she was rail-thin!" That news got me excited and I began to start eating one cookie before the previous one had been swallowed yet. I could feel my gut starting to get full, but I hadn't had my favorite cookies in years and I figured I was just collecting interest, not to mention now that I loved being fat and everything was perfect I could gorge myself in good conscience. I took a short break halfway through the plate, burping loudly and licking chocolate off of my lips. I looked at Dan. "Wait, are you still recording this?" "Well, duh, I'm gonna need something to watch later," he smiled. "Oh, you don't look so good." "My tummy hurts," I pouted, placing one hand on it, "Rub it?" He complied and we both smiled at each other, knowing that things couldn't be better. The gentle pressure he was putting on my stomach allowed me to let out a belch, which rid me of the ache. I began to feast again, and he went back behind the computer, surfing the internet as the computer continued to take evidence of me making a pig of myself. And make a pig of myself I did, food being shoved into my gullet whenever there was room. The bottom half of my face was smeared with chocolate and crumbs. Between the brownies and chips in the car, the three burgers, the two hot dogs, and all of the cookies, not to mention breakfast and lunch, I suspected that I'd probably gained a lot of weight and the day wasn't even over yet. Every time I moved, I could hear my gut slosh from its fullness. I laid back, rubbing my gut and groaning. Dan looked worried. "You okay, Nikki?" He approached me, placing one hand on my stuffed belly. "You look like you're gonna pop." "I feel like it, too," I groaned, "Wanna go home?" He nodded. "Sure. You need some rest… that was quite a meal you just had. You just stagger out to the car and I'll excuse us after I email this video to myself and get it off this computer." As Dan went about his business, I waddled out to his car, holding my aching gut the whole way. It hurt, but in a way it was satisfying and almost pleasurable, the overwhelming fullness that indicated a big binge. I opened the car door and opted to lay in the backseat rather than sit in the passenger one. I laid there on my back, rubbing my tummy as the bumps and vibrations of the road lulled me to sleep, Dan lovingly driving me home. Night of the Living Fed By next Halloween, I was all set to go to Dan's party. Having now bloated to a massive four hundred and ninety-two pounds, I was ready to gorge myself on candy, too. Since my parents left Dan and I alone to pass out candy, I devoured all six bowls in a matter of fifteen minutes and we proceeded to put our heads together for a costume idea. It was going to be a zombie, we knew that, but it needed to be a theme: for instance, Dan was going as "Nerd Zombie," in a stereotypical geek getup, enormous fake glasses and all. But, me being nearly 500 pounds now, my clothing options were limited, but as it was a relatively warm night I was willing to get skimpy if I had to. Dan was all for me being in a revealing costume, as most of his ideas had been centering around the general theme of "Slut-Whore Zombie." Although I knew it was a blatant attempt to get my clothes off, it was also quite practical; nothing that still fit me seemed to fit Halloween, so I was coming very close to throwing on a bikini and being "BBW Beach Zombie." But, being sort of a romantic in a really weird way, Dan wanted us to be able to share something that night, so he managed to secure a last-minute "Hot BBW Nerd Zombie" getup, involving a button-up shirt that couldn't button anywhere but below my boobs and glasses that filled half my face. A knee-length black skirt and some pens sticking out of my shirt's breast pocket completed the ensemble, and then came the dilemma of needing three whole sets of zombie makeup to cover my huge body. But, after everything was finished… well, I don't want to pat myself on the back, but I was a fucking hotzombie. I mean, I'd do me. As Dan and I talked for about an hour at his house, I managed to snack on two more bowls of candy without even realizing it, only needing to stop to hand it out two or three times. My center of gravity had shifted permanently to my ass, as I now needed to take a few seconds to keep myself from falling over backwards whenever I stood up. It was in no small part due to most of my eating taking place sitting down, and it felt a bit weird to both feel and hear that I was making Dan's staircase creak. Another bowl of candy later, I was starting to feel a little bit sick and people were finally starting to arrive. Paul Sullivan arrived in a convincing convict getup, the rather fat Leslie Carraway showed up as "BBW Beach Zombie," and Matt Gallagher turned up in a hysterically cartoonish Batman costume. All the while, I sipped on a water bottle to prevent myself from puking out the contents of my candy-stuffed gut. Although I was huge and okay with it, nine bowls of sickeningly sweet treats was definitely pushing it. Several times throughout the night, I had to stop mid-sentence to suppress a near-upchuck, and the water was barely settling my bellyache at all. I held my big, blubbery belly with my hands and moved it up and down a bit, feeling it jiggle and smiling. I could practically hear all of the sweets I'd ingested bouncing around inside, so I had to waddle by the counter full of chocolate while, excruciatingly, being unable to touch anything for fear of barfing my insides out. However, I'd never had great self-control, and Dan soon brought out something that I just needed to force myself to eat: a chocolate cake with frosting pumpkins and ghosts on it. As he placed it on the table and began to slice, he noticed me waddling up, licking my lips greedily. He pointed the dull knife at me jokingly. "No, Nikki. If you eat a piece of this, I can guarantee you're gonna be projectile vomiting all night." I pouted, but he didn't relent. "Hey, I told you to ease up on the Kit-Kats, didn't I?" My bottom lip began to quiver and I glanced into a lamp to make my eyes water. "Oh my God, Nikki, are you actually gonna cry?" "I won't spew, I promise. Can I just have a little piece? Pretty please? Pretty pretty please with whipped cream, hot fudge, and a cherry on top?" Dan smiled, patting my cheek. "Okay, fine," he gave up, cutting me a decent-sized piece and dropping it onto a black plastic plate. "But you are going on a diet, missy." I giggled as I shoved the first forkful into my mouth. "Daniel! Are you calling me fat?" "Yeah," he smirked as I chucked my fork into the sink and shoved a handful of cake into my mouth, my piece almost gone. I was starting to feel so sick that I couldn't even take it, but I didn't care. "But, seriously, Nikki, how much do you weigh?" Putting down my plate for a second, with my mouth full of food, I used my fingers, signing out "four," then "nine," and finally "two." "Holy crap," Dan gasped, surprised, "I've been destroying your figure." As I gulped down the last of my cake and immediately regretted pushing myself beyond my limits, I smirked and hugged him. "Yeah, but I'm enjoying it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna sit in front of the toilet until this blowing-chunks feeling passes." I kissed him on the cheek, leaving a chocolate frosting lip print. I sat in his bathroom for twenty solid minutes, gazing into the immaculately spotless toilet bowl as I gagged. Yes, I loved being fat and I loved stuffing my face, but… maybe I could afford to tone it down just a tad. That said, by the end of the night I'd managed to pack in three Hershey bars and a peanut butter cup before passing out on the floor to avoid regurgitating my guts out. Diet and Exercise "C'mon, fatso, you ready to lose some weight?!" With Thanksgiving and my standard winter weight to help me along, I weighed 556 whopping pounds by February. To celebrate our anniversary, Dan and I had agreed to whip me into shape… kind of. It was kind of a diet and technically exercise, but it still at least looked like I was doing something. As the "workout" was taking place in my house, which we had to ourselves, I felt that I didn't need exercise clothes, opting to remain in my tight red undies. Since I knew I wouldn't be doing too much real moving, I didn't feel the need for a sports bra. As Dan ordered me to get on the ground on my back, I heard a plastic crinkling that could only mean one thing: cupcakes. "Okay, Nik, think you can still do a sit-up?" "No," I whined pathetically, putting my hands as close to the front of my gut as possible. "Do you think cupcakes are a good enough motivation?" My eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "Maybe." "Okay," I felt Dan sit on my thighs as I put my hands behind my head. Just over my gut, I saw him holding a cupcake out with its wrapping off. So chocolaty, so much vanilla frosting… I bent up to snatch it with my mouth, but my fat gut wouldn't let me bend that far. "Uh oh, can't reach your dessert?" "Dan, I'm starving," I cried, "Can't I just lay here while you feed me like last week?" "No," he rejected the offer, but a sudden pressure I felt on my fat thigh from his crotch area indicated that he desired otherwise, "We've gotta at least do a little bit of exercise like you promised your parents. Just do enough sit-ups to snag three of these delicious cupcakes and then we can take a break." I wasn't happy about it, but I had to agree. This time I heave the top half of my body up with all of my force, managing to close my mouth around the cupcake between my boyfriend's fingers. I slammed back to the ground with a loud bang and munched happily, licking some stray frosting off of my lip. "See, Nikki? Not too hard, just do two more." I managed to do one more, but I just couldn't bring myself to get up enough to get the last treat in my mouth. "Can't you just give me this one?" "No, tubbo," he denied me, "Just do one more." "Give me that cupcake or I'm gonna go upstairs and put on pants." Victory. Dan climbed off of me and helped me to my feet as I grabbed the cupcake out of his hand and shoved it into my mouth, moaning as I chewed slowly to savor the spoils of our mini-argument. "Okay, what's next?" "Next is diet food," Dan informed me with an inordinate amount of glee, "Get in the dining room and take a seat or two while I get it out." I waddled into the dining room and plopped down into two seats, one gigantic ass cheek taking up a full chair, as Dan dropped my meal in front of me: a large bowl of baby carrots. I glared at him with a look of utter revulsion. "Are you serious?" "Not done yet," he warned me, jumping back into the kitchen and coming out with a Tupperware container in each hand. He put them on the table on each side of the carrot bowl and peeled off the top of the first one. "Frosting," he pulled off the other, "And your favorite fatty goop. Believe me, baby, dunk every carrot in one of those and you'll do a lot more than cancel out the health factor." Tentatively, I grabbed a wet carrot, slathered as much chocolate pudding onto it as I could, and stuffed the contradictory concoction into my mouth. Oddly enough, the two tastes mixed very well and I found myself eating vegetables with the zeal that I usually reserved for French fries or onion rings. "Don't forget the frosting," Dan playfully reminded me after a minute, prompting me to dunk a carrot into the white topping and eat that as well, letting out an instinctive pleasure moan. "Do my eyes deceive me, or is Nikki Wood of all people stuffing her face with carrots? Health food? Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?" I simply giggled. "Health food sure is good when you drown it in sweets and kill the health aspect." As I crunched on the last carrot, I looked at Dan. "Are we done with this diet and exercise bullshit?" "Definitely." "Good," I grunted, grabbing the pudding and shoving it into my mouth by the handful, making a tremendous mess, "'Cause I'm in the mood for untainted fatty goop." "Gimme a second to go upstairs and get my camera so I can record this," he said, but I just started eating without him. You snooze, you lose, and those two and a half sit ups had me starved. Since the family cookout, Dan had made sort of a hobby out of taping some of the more erotic things I did. He taped the aftermath of Thanksgiving dinner. He taped the jiggling that I'd done for his birthday lest month. And now that I was in his favorite underwear of mine, making a fat pig of myself with pudding my the fistful, he just had to have a record of it. I didn't mind one bit; after all, if I were to suddenly die, those were surely what I'd want to be remembered by. Dan refused to flat-out tell me what he did with the videos, but it was fairly obvious that he was abusing the wicked stick, if you know what I mean. And, as I was beginning to fear that college would cause a rift in our relationship, I was preparing myself to present the possibility of becoming one by doing the horizontal tango. Sticky Fumblings Ever seen Silence of the Lambs? Well, there's one scene that I really like, mostly because Hannibal Lecter says something that perfectly condenses how I imagined having sex would be like into a few words: "tedious, sticky fumblings in the backseats of cars." Although I was often a very overtly erotic being, particularly when Dan and food were involved, the concept of actually having sex was terrifying to me. What if something went horribly wrong? Like, I'd gone through sex ed, but what if one of us were to screw up with something we' never been taught about? Or, more importantly than potential pain… I can't handle a kid. I can barely even take care of myself, screw that. At least I'd have more than enough body fat to support a child. But that wasn't really the problem. The problem was simple: I was scared and I didn't know why. Even compared to me, a bit lighter than 600 pounds by the end of June, sex was really, really big. It wasn't an act to me; it was a concept, a representation of everything that was big and scary that I knew I'd have to take on eventually but really, really didn't want to. Nevertheless, I wanted to do it. This was a tidbit of information that I thought prudent to drop to Dan after a "romantic" dinner at Old Country Buffet that left me ready to pop. His response was far from the ecstatic "Oh god yes, let's do it right here on the floor" I was worried about. He simply coughed awkwardly a bit, considered my points and agreed that it would be a good way to truly consummate our relationship before we went off to different universities. Deciding that it needed to be the climax of a truly romantic, love-filled day, we planned for that Sunday to be the date. It started with breakfast in bed, with four strips of bacon, a chocolate-chip muffin, and eight butter-and-syrup slathered pancakes under four or five equally afflicted waffles, all served with a gallon jug of orange juice. As Dan helped me slip into my pink underwear, daisy dukes that my ass cheeks were practically bulging out of, and a white tank top that made my fat-swollen HH-cup tits look downright gigantic, I tossed a few extra things into my purse and waddled out the door with my loving boyfriend in tow. We spent the next hour kissing in his car until the public pool opened. I snatched my black bikini out of my purse and, after changing, knew that I outweighed everyone else at the pool by, oh, 450 pounds. Dan spent the whole time by my side, massaging my body all over and constantly telling me how beautiful I was to him and how great that night was sure to be. He'd even wisely steered me away from risking breaking the diving board, instead walking into the pool with me. I was still getting comfortable with being to uncovered in public, but Dan sure made me feel like I was the hottest girl ever to wear a bikini. After I'd gotten all dried from the pool and changed back into my regular clothes, my gut started to rumble to let me know that the making out and swimming had worked my appetite back up. "Danny," I whined, jiggling my belly as I left the changing room, "I'm hungry." "No problem, Nikki," he smiled, giving me a quick kiss, "We've got all day. What do you wanna do?" "Eat." "Well, obviously, dummy. Where?" I thought for a moment before I remembered that my old mega-fattening workplace deserved a visit from its favorite employee now that I was a full-on gainer. "Glut Burger." "Somehow I knew you were gonna say that," he smirked as I crammed myself into the backseat of his car, as my butt was now far too wide for the passenger seat. It was only a four or five minute drive there, and Dan stopped just before the drive-through to ask me what I wanted. I smiled. "Just tell them Nikki Wood wants her usual work snack. They might still know what it means." Dan did so when asked for our order, adding a burger for himself. The crackling voice on the other side replied with "Oh, Nikki! How's my favorite cashier doing?" "Great!" I shouted from the backseat, "How 'bout you, Beck?" "I'm 25 and I work at a fast-food restaurant, so of course my life's just fantastic," she replied in her voice, still as high as it had been nearly two years ago. "Pull up, it'll be great to see you again!" On our way up, Dan just had to ask: "So what's your usual work snack?" "Three cheeseburgers, two orders of fries, an order of onion rings, and a large vanilla milkshake," I admitted with absolutely no air of bashfulness about my gluttony at all. "If I hadn't quit, I think I would've exploded." "Gee, I wonder how you got fat with a job like this," Dan remarked sarcastically as we reached the window. I could see from the back that Becky had put on the weight that came with being a Glut Burger employee, although she hadn't packed on as much in two years as I had in three months. "Beck!" I yelled from the backseat, leaning forward and making my boobs almost jump out of my top, "Beck! How you doin'?!" I saw Becky's jaw drop. "Okay, Nikki, I don't wanna be a bitch, but-" "Yeah, I sure got huge, didn't I?" I giggled as she handed Dan our food. "Well, I wish we could talk more, but the boy and I have stuff to do, so see you." "See ya," Becky said, still in shock over how fat I'd become. It was actually making me rather excited. "Did you hear her? She couldn't even believe it!" I took a chomp out of my first burger and siped some shake. I sighed. "How'd we get here, Dan? I mean, really." He shrugged. "What does it matter? All that matters is that now you're fat and you're happy and I'm having the best time of my life and we love each other." I smiled and added redundantly, "I love you." "Love you too," he grinned, pulling into a gas station parking lot. "I gotta take a leak. Enjoy your lunch." I did indeed, managing to decimate the whole thing except for half my shake by the time he got back and started to munch on his burger. "So, Nik… what do we do now?" "I don't know… you thinking 'it'? Or is it too early?" "'It'? What are we, five? But, yeah, I think it's a bit too early for sex just yet. We still haven't done the best thing of all yet!" "And that is?" "We're gonna go to your house and get rid of all the 'fatty goop' so your parents don't throw it away when they get back tomorrow." My face immediately lit up. "Great idea!" We sped home and I waddled into my house as fast as possible, opening the fridge, but Dan simply slapped my ass and told me to lie down in the living room. Just for effect, I took my top off. In came Dan with 4 bowls of chocolate pudding, all needing to get in my belly as fast as possible or they risked being thrown out. Dan spoon-fed me about three spoonfuls before I took over gorging duties, my "stuff-by-the-fistful" tactic being much more effective. The main advantage of getting so fat was showing: even after my huge breakfast and fast food feast, I was still gulping down gallons of pudding without a problem. As I dropped the first bowl, emptied, with a belch, I noticed that Dan was looking rather awkward, not knowing what to do with himself. "Danny," I purred, "Come help, please?" He obliged, and I was now getting two flows of pudding: my big, fattening handfuls and Dan's loving spoonfuls. As I licked some excess from my lips, he laughed cutely, which made me laugh too. Three and a half years ago, I'd punish myself for pudding with an hour on a treadmill. Now I was a certified fatass who chugged the stuff like it was healthy yogurt. Not to mention I sure was happier. I had a dream body, a dream guy, and my stress level had gone down considerably. By the time I'd stuffed myself with all the pudding, Dan and I were both a bit loopy and I was letting out regular burps from him resting partly on my belly. "Dan…" I got his attention. "Yeah, Nikki?" "I think it's time." My bloated stomach twisted into a knot when I said that; here it came, the big, scary threat known only as sex. As Dan gently helped me to my feet, he reached into his wallet and pulled out a condom, which he held tightly all the way up the stairs as if he was scared of losing it along the way. We both took turns in the bathroom to make the appropriate alterations to our clothing or lack thereof until we were together, stark naked, in my bedroom. And all I could say was "I'm gonna assume that I'm gonna be on the bottom?" We both laughed, even though it was terribly awkward. I slowly lay down in my bed, spreading my thighs as far apart as I could. I left the rest up to Dan as he slowly and deliberately separated my flabby thighs and began, making his pleasure heard. But something was wrong. "Dan?" "Nikki?" "You're screwing my thigh-flab right now. A little more to the left- yeah, move the gut out of the way there- oh!" So, although it was scary, we managed to get through it together. And I owed that happiest moment of my life all to my gaining weight and confidence with it. And it was far from tedious and sticky, believe me. Now Okay, so I realize that I might've rambled for a bit, and some of that was way too much information. But it's your own fault for asking the question, and it wasn't like any of it was irrelevant. But, if you ever want to hear the story again in a more condensed and personal form, just think: Something as dumb as buying some sweatpants on a whim changed me forever. What kind of stupid, trivial thing might change you?
  5. The Sweatpants of Nikki, Vol 1 by FGAL, reposted without permissionHow'd I get fat? Well, that's kind of a weird question, but I guess it's worth answering.When I was a freshman in high school, I bought a pair of dark blue sweatpants with the understanding that they were always going to be far too huge for me and I'd put them on whenever I was insecure about my weight. I'd console myself with the knowledge that, hey, at least I wasn't a fat whale who fit into them.Now that I'm 19, I've come to the rather startling realization that I'm a fat whale who doesn't fit into them. That's right, there's a big tear right in the ass and I can see my pink panties right now. But I'm not some fat-loathing wreck who's about to go puke until I get thin; no, it's actually the contrary. I rather like being an obese whale, thank you very much.My name is Nikki Wood. I weigh 630.8 pounds. And, unlike most girls, I know exactly how it happened.The Beginning: Buying the PantsI always hated going shopping with Rachel. It wasn't that I hated shopping- no, I lovedshopping- it was that Rachel was, to be blunt, so, so fat. She weighed 520-ish pounds and we were only 15! Unfortunately, the mall had a store dedicated to clothing the huge, which Rachel used to drag me to all the time. After all, it was the only place she could go; with her cartoonishly large breasts, balloon belly, ass that took up two chairs, and thighs that seemed like they wouldn't separate, my dark-haired friend didn't have a lot of resources for clothes.To provide some contrast, I had a mild hourglass, with a decent butt, small waist, and C cups, meaning that I was the approximate size of an average Rachel dinner. What blew my mind even further was that she didn't even seem to mind being so huge; in fact, she absolutely reveled in it. She would intentionally wear super-revealing clothes, always pig out in front of everyone, and made more fat jokes about herself than anyone else did.I wanted to poke around in Gamestop to try to catch a glimpse of this guy Dan I'd been crushing on for a little while, but no, Rachel needed sluttier clothes and she wanted me to tag along. While she was in the dressing room squeezing into a pair of daisy dukes that were sure to look revolting, I was browsing the section that contained clothes for girls fatter than Rachel. It was then that I found them.The pants.My first instinct when I picked them up out of curiosity was to laugh. I didn't even think anybody had the kind of ass that would fill those pants! And the thighs! The waistband was so stretchy… I needed to own these. 20 bucks was a small price to pay.Rachel burst out of the dressing room, shirtless, having busted the jean short shorts and her black bra didn't seem to be holding on too well either. I knew that I'd never be as fat as her, ever.The First Inkling That Something Might Be WrongI'd bought the sweatpants two months ago and, as a direct result, had seriously mellowed out about counting every last calorie. I could now enjoy some ice cream every once in a while or, God forbid, a second slice of pizza. I'd even developed a whole new respect for chocolate pudding, which I used to refer to as "fatty goop." Looking back, I can sort of see how my diet started to slip, which I learned thanks to an incident with my favorite jeans.They'd always been tight to show off my impressive backside, but I noticed that day that getting them on was slightly more difficult. Almost as if I'd gained weight or something. It wasn't too unthinkable; I'd assumed that my boobs were just growing naturally, but maybe they were being swelled with… fat? No, no, impossible. But, then again, my belly was starting to feel a bit less firm than usual… and I had to admit that my favorite red panties were pinching into my waist a bit.After three or four minutes of struggling, I'd gotten the jeans up to just below my butt and I finally had a reason to dislike my booty. I pulled and pulled as hard as I could and I was only able to slowly hike my pants onto me, taking about a minute for that small stretch alone. I couldn't even close the front of them.Beginning to feel bad, I tore my jeans off and put on the sweatpants, simply grateful that I was thinner than them. Holding them up with one hand, I walked into the kitchen and stared into the freezer, grabbing a carton of chocolate ice cream to complete my night of sweets and TV.Higher Than IdealIt took another three months before anything truly confidence-devastating could happen. After the last day of finals, it was time for my annual checkup and I was feeling a bit apprehensive; although I didn't want to admit it to myself, something inside me knew that I'd been putting on weight, particularly in my belly and ass. I had never really addressed it, though, as whenever I noticed how much bigger I was I would just put on the sweatpants and… well, eat.Although I'd bought bigger clothes, I stubbornly refused to go more than two sizes up, which left me in clothes that were still tight, but less so. I was wearing a pair of tight black pants and a pink top that showed off my expanded breasts excellently, but also showed some belly, which I ignored.When I was called into the doctor's office, I also sort of noticed that, to my horror, I was starting to develop a slight waddle. The nurse administered the usual eye test and figured out my height and then came the weigh-in. I stepped onto the scale, which always made me self-conscious because it made a loud CLANG regardless of weight, and faced away from the numbers. I knew I'd gotten fatter, but I refused to find out how much so."Alright then," the nurse said cheerily, "I'm gonna go, and Dr. Walker should be here in a few minutes. If you could just please remove your clothes to your underwear, and if it makes you feel more comfortable then you can throw on that gown," she gestured to the hospital gown sitting beside me."Okay," I smiled, but my face immediately became a frown when the nurse left the room. Someone else was gonna see me in my underwear? After I'd gotten chubby? To me, that was hell, but I sucked it up and removed my clothes anyway. That was when I looked in the mirror and had to accept that maybe I'd put on a couple of pounds.My butt had grown, to my horror, jiggly beneath my black panties, which cut into my cheeks a bit. My stomach, which had progressed to something too big to be a potbelly but too small to be a gut, hung and wobbled a bit and, when I tested out "pinching an inch," I discovered that I could pinch about three. My boobs, now swollen with flab, were bursting out of my bra.Seeing all of this, I hurried to throw the gown on over the front of my body just before Dr. Walker, a middle-aged tall woman with black hair and a few wrinkles, entered the room and held out her hand for me to shake. "Hello, Nicole. How are you?"I smiled politely as I shook her hand. "Fine, thanks. And you?""I'm alright," she said as she grabbed a blood pressure meter and patted the couch-thing that I never knew the name of, her hand crinkling loudly against the sanitary paper. "Now, if you could just hop up here, please." I did so and realized, scared, that my butt had padding when it was only covered by my underwear. My real terror didn't come until the blood pressure cuff was wrapped tightly around my left arm and I found that I actually had… arm-flab.But I kept my cool as she took my pressure and wrote down the results, but my façade of stability started to fade as she told me to stand up and face away from her so she could observe my spine. I had to remove the gown, but thankfully she couldn't see my belly yet. Unfortunately, my gross love handles were still visible, spilling over my panties."Okay, turn around, please?" I groaned to myself as I did so, exposing my belly to her.Nothing else too bad happened for the remainder of the checkup until Dr. Walker told me my results: blood pressure good, general clean bill of health, but the bad part was news that she delivered with nonchalance: "Weight's quite a bit higher than ideal, though."I simply nodded with a look that conveyed semi-annoyed acceptance, but on the inside I was a rage of emotions over confirmation that it was now a fact: I was overweight. Quite a bit overweight.The Last Day of SummerTwo and a half months later came a day that was universally hated by the under-18 population: the final day of summer. And, aided by the sweatpants of denial, I had made the vacation a heaven of ice cream and lounging around. I'd suffered the effects, as well: the previous year, I was wearing small bikinis, and by the end of that summer I'd missed medium entirely and now larges were getting snug.The only thing that made me feel comfortable in a bikini was being in a bikini around Rachel, because at that point she'd make Jabba the Hutt look like Jenny Craig. In the seven and a half months since I bought the pants, my gargantuan buddy had bloated to almost 600 pounds and wasn't showing any signs of slowing. Her ass took up three- three- seats on its own, her tits were so ridiculously large that everyone incorrectly thought they were fake, and her gut was roughly the size of an overinflated yoga ball.Of course, I was no supermodel either. Ironically enough, I'd let Dr. Walker's assessment that I was quite a bit high than my ideal weight get to me and make me seek subconscious comfort food. One day at the beach, I'd eaten three ice cream cones and followed those up with a cheeseburger, then promptly went home and napped in the sweatpants.On the last day of summer, I'd gone to the beach with Rachel again, but since she was off gorging herself with burgers I was forced to sit there alone. As I laid back on the beach, I took another look at my body and wasn't quite happy with recent developments. My belly was sticking far enough out to be slightly visible beyond my fat-bloated boobs while I was lying down. My thighs were starting to touch a little, and when I got up I discovered that my ass had left a crater in the sand that indicted something far bigger and rounder than a simple "booty" anymore.Now that I was standing, I'd seen the ass-crater, I felt fat, and I had no access to The Sweatpants, I didn't know what to do with myself other than track down Rachel and have a little snack. To find her, all I really had to do was follow the noise of a crowd chanting "Stuff! Stuff! Stuff! Stuff!" I pushed through the crowd to find my morbidly obese friend rapidly cramming all sorts of food into her mouth while people cheered her on.Then something really scary happened: I realized that that girl may be me someday. Disgusted, I made my way out of the crowd and semi-waddled- oh my God, how gross, I semi-waddled- to a hot dog stand, where I ate two and then passed out in Rachel's backseat, waking up halfway through the ride home.Naturally, the first thing I did was throw on my sweatpants, heat up some leftover pizza, and go to bed, dreading the beginning of school.ObeseFour months into the year and I was fatter than ever, having gone up several clothes sizes in the past near-year. My fashion sense had gotten looser, as the only part of my body that I especially liked anymore were my boobs, but to show them off I'd need to make the world see my overstuffed gut.This particular moment of fatness overlapped with the day of gym class every girl loathed: height, weight, and BMI. All taken by the fitness-crazy gym teacher. And we weren't allowed to keep our shirts on while getting weighed.Given that I'd annihilated an entire pizza the night before and gorged myself on six large pancakes with whipped cream that morning, and then it was right after my lunch of two bottles of chocolate milk, three cookies, and a small bag of potato chips, I was terrified. Yes, I was starting to realize that I'd gone beyond overweight and into fat, even gluttonous, but I refused to diet because I was still downright swimming in The Sweatpants.The suspense was killing me as, one by one, girls were called into the teacher's office and came out moaning about how fat they were. Angela Brennan, whose ribs were visible, shot out wailing that she was so fat and needed to go on a diet. If Angela was fat, then I was downright obese. I wouldn't have been surprised if I was, either; my gut hung to about my crotch and my butt had grown to a size where it spilled off of both sides of all of my chairs and tore a small hole in the backside of my already-big jeans."Nicole Wood! You're up!" The coach's female voice bellowed. As I did something that was just barely not a waddle to her office, I passed Rachel, who was jiggling out with a shirt that only covered her boobs.Wearing an enormous grin, she whispered excitedly "82!"It sounds ridiculous, but I wasn't at all surprised that Rachel was more than twice as fat as she'd need to be to be considered morbidly obese. She was so fat that just being around her was making me fatter in that, last Halloween, she'd convinced me to put on eight and a half pounds in chocolate and now that it was almost Christmas she's have me eating cookies by the plateful."Hi, Nicole," my blonde ultra-toned gym teacher said with the air of coldness that she'd been giving me since I'd started gaining weight, "Remove your shirt and step on the scale." I did so and it made a loud CLANG reminiscent of Dr. Walker's scale, but my teacher's surprised jump indicated that it didn't always happen.This time, I knew I had to suck it up and face the numbers, watching the fit-nut's hands fiddle with the weights until her voice read out "220 pounds."220 pounds? Two-hundred-and-twenty goddamn pounds? Oh my God, I thought, I was going on a diet the second I got home. Ms. Williams took my height and then plugged it into her computer before reading out "30.7." She turned to me somberly. "Nicole, I hate to tell you this," she said in a tone that sounded more annoyed than sympathetic, "But you really, really need to lose weight. You're just barely obese now, but if you lose, oh," she paused to think for a moment, "Ten pounds, you'd fall back into overweight range, but even that's overweight. Now, I don't mean to violate your personal space, but," she put her hand on my exposed pregnant-looking belly, "This… needs to go away." She patted it a few times, causing pressure to build up and I knew what was coming but couldn't stop it. "Okay?"I nodded, but when I opened my mouth to speak I instead unleashed a large belch from all of the food that I'd consumed since last night's pizza feast. Ms. Williams looked somewhere between surprised and angry and I burst out without my shirt as I heard everyone laughing at me.The Snapped StairThe next four months brought food, food, and more food, and as April came and the weather began to heat up I found that calling my new softness "winter weight" would be pushing it a lot. The "diet" that gym class had convinced me to go on began with a big bowl of "fatty goop" when I got home and ended with that night's dinner of two hot dogs.I knew that I'd gotten a whole lot fatter, but I had to still just be in "obese," however bad that may have been. There was no way I'd entered "morbidly." No way. As I waddled around shirtless, I realized that I no longer needed to hold up The Sweatpants; my waistline was doing that on its own. It then occurred to me: maybe I should weigh myself on my own.I entered the bathroom and pulled the scale out from under the sink, stepping on it and realizing that I could only see the numbers if I sucked in my gut and craned my neck over my tits. The dial spun until it finally settled at 266 pounds. I gasped and raised a hand to my mouth; 46 pounds in 4 months? What had I been eating, lard? At this rate, I'd end up like Rachel, immobile and moved out to the West Coast.I noticed that I was starting to sweat, but refused to take off the heavy pants that still allowed me to delude myself into thinking I wasn't twice as heavy as would be healthy for a girl my size. I figured that the best solution would be to go into the attic and grab a fan for my room so I wouldn't be pouring perspiration at all hours of the night.I entered my parent's bedroom and reached up to grab the hook in their white ceiling, and as I pulled down a wooden ladder folded down as well to grant me access to the unbearably hot attic. Then something occurred to me: I hadn't been in the attic in over a year, and the steps had always been creaky. Now that I was officially obese, was I going to make it up? Oh, of course, of course, I thought. After all, I might be fat but at least The Sweatpants are loose on me. I grabbed the sides of the ladder and stepped onto the first stair. I smiled; yeah, it creaked, but it was supporting me. I took another step tentatively, but stair number two held me as well.You know how they say "third time's the charm?" Well, that day I learned that the third time is always just awful. On the third stair up, all 266 pounds of me proved too much for the dumb little wooden step to handle and it smashed, making me fall to the floor on my ass. To my horror, I bounced a bit.I got to my feet (with a bit of difficulty, I might add,) folded up the stairs, kicked the shards of step three under my parents' bed, and locked myself in my bedroom to eat potato chips. At least The Sweatpants were more resilient than the stair.The Summer JobAfter another month, I figured that I should get a summer job to give my savings the extra boost that they needed if I was to afford a car by next March. Given that I'd put on a bit more weight (okay, fifteen pounds is more than "a bit," but still) I wanted to work somewhere simple with very little temptation, like Borders or the library. Since they were both semi-decent distances away from my house, walking to work might help me cut the fat a little bit too.Naturally, my joke application to Glut Burger was the only one that got accepted. The combination of being a fast food ** and the place being called Glut Burger didn't give me high hopes of losing any weight. After working there for a week, I was sure that my diet was doomed because of one simple fact: since it wasn't the busiest place even at lunch, my manager encouraged employee snacking to not let the food go to waste. After my third week of work, I had to trade in my XXL uniform (which made me feel gross) for an XXXL uniform (which made me feel downright gigantic.)The addition of greasy fast food to my already food-packed lazy days didn't help, nor did the fact that walking to work and back wasn't enough to work off half a burger, let alone the three or four daily ones I was munching on. It got so bad that, by the first of July, I'd outgrown a bikini I ordered off of the internet in mid-June.I was an even bigger cow when I was given the responsibility to closing, as being alone made me feel comfortable enough to help myself to some fries and maybe a milkshake. I'd feel better if the other employees looked at least pudgy as well, but I was the only one who was above 200 pounds. Even on my days off, I'd usually come in and exploit my employee discount for a burger or two.My rapidly worsening obesity began to worry my mom toward the beginning of August and she came to talk to me about it after I'd just gotten home from a long shift, having changed into a loose cotton shirt and The Sweatpants."Nikki," she said, sitting down on the bed beside me, "It hurts to have to tell you this, but… your Dad and I are worried that your weight is getting a bit… unhealthy," she spoke slowly and deliberately, as if she thought that one wrong word would set me off. "We're not going to makeyou do anything, but we'd really, really appreciate if you could maybe try to lose just a couple of pounds… for your health?"I smiled and nodded. "I know, Mom, we don't need to sugar-coat it. Over the past year and a half, yeah, I've gotten pretty fat. But… hey, it's not like I'm obese or anything," I flat-out lied, "And I promise that I'll whip myself into shape by next summer, okay?"That seemed to satisfy her. "Okay. How was work?""Good," I shrugged, but on the inside my first reaction was "Delicious."As the summer wound down and came to an end, my manager had noticed that I was having some serious issues with my uniform and graciously granted me permission to wear any pants that I wanted for comfort reasons behind the counter, but I just had to deal with my huge boobs and gut hating my shirt. Naturally, I wore The Sweatpants to work every day and my tendencies to snack on the job became far more pronounced. Now that I had pretty much no pressure on my waist, I was allowing my daily intake at work alone to be between three and five cheeseburgers, a large fry, and usually what amounted to one and a half large vanilla milkshakes.The week before classes began, I turned in my uniform, took one last free burger to go, and promptly weighed myself when I got home to see what kind of havoc three months of Glut Burger employeehod had done to my figure. What made matters worse was that I now had to use the camera on my phone to take a snapshot of the numbers because I couldn't see over my mountainous chest and belly.I stepped on the scale, reached around my gut, snapped the picture, and promptly became confused because I was being told that I only weighed 5 pounds. Yeah, if only. I stepped off and picked up the scale to observe what went wrong, and the answer was actually rather scary: after the wheel hit 300 pounds, it just kept rotating. Simple addition put me at 305 pounds. That number was pretty shocking to me, yes, but at least I was still skinny in The Sweatpants. Of course, after that consolation was when it hit me:I was now morbidly obese. Great.Trick or Lots and Lots of TreatsSince gaining all this weight, I'd also gained a whole new respect for Halloween. It gave me an excuse to shovel candy down my gullet and insist that, since it was Halloween, everyone was pigging out. The previous year, I'd gone to a party with Rachel and gained a horrifying eight pounds in one night, but this year I was staying home and handing out the candy. I wore The Sweatpants and my biggest pink shirt and insisted that my costume was "a girl who recently lost a lot of weight." Hey, it was barely less plausible than "fat girl trying to feel skinny."My parents went off to watch over a party that a friend of theirs was hosting, leaving me, now slowly inching my way towards 320 pounds, alone with six large bowls of candy and nothing to do. Well, nothing to do but eat. The first treat I snuck was something small and deliberate. I rooted around in the first bowl for a single Tootsie Roll and unwrapped it slowly, trying to work out whether or not gorging myself on all of the candy was such a good idea. After all, I'd promised my mom that I'd go on a diet and in the two months since then I'd packed on almost 20 pounds of pure fat.It was then that I revised my diet plan: I'd start dropping pounds when I couldn't fit into my favorite pants anymore. So, with my diet postponed and the misconception that one tiny little Tootsie Roll wasn't gonna make me fatter all by itself, I put it in my mouth. Then, since it was so good and one little Three Musketeers wasn't gonna make me fatter all by itself, I ate one too. And since one little Hershey's Bar wasn't gonna…Okay, you get the picture. I guess my point is that I'd already emptied one bowl before kids even started showing up, and I even "amended" my mom's two-pieces-per-kid policy down to one for reasons that should be obvious to you. As I sat hunched over that orange bowl stuffing my face almost as fast as I could unwrap candy, I didn't care if I was skinny, chubby, fat, overweight, obese, or even Rachel-sized; the only thing that mattered was that I was gorging myself on chocolate and it was goddamn delicious."Uh… Nikki?" I heard a voice and I looked up at the door, my cheeks bulging with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, to see my rather attractive classmate Dan, who I'd had a crush on for almost two years now, standing there in torn clothes, with a few fake cuts and slightly greenish skin coloring with dark makeup around the eyes. "We're having a party down the street, wanna come?""Shorry," I said through my mouthful of food, "I gotha sthay here and ghive out candhy." I didn't like to talk with my mouth full, but considering I'd just been caught gorging myself on candy that was supposed to go to little kids I figured that courtesy was mostly out the window. I swallowed all of it and let out a small burp, blushing. "I really would love to, though. Maybe next year?""Yeah," he said, somewhat disappointed, "Maybe next year. Now I'm off to eat." He held his arms out in front of him and began to shuffle away stiffly, moaning "Brrrraiiiiiinssssss…""He's kind of cute, "I giggled as I tore open a bag of Skittles, poured some into my hand, and swallowed them. I placed my other hand on my huge stomach and realized that, although I'd eaten a lot, it wasn't really too full yet. I started to eat a bit faster, as less and less people were coming. My parents sure had grossly overestimated how many people would come to our house. So, since it was the day where I could pig out and be okay with it, I would just have to make up for them.Another group of kids did show up eventually, but by then there was only a bowl and a half of candy left and I was a really scary sight. As I'd overheated, I removed my shirt and put some bruise-y makeup on it to give an appearance that, however vague, looked a bit unsettling. The entire lower half of my face was covered in chocolate and I was letting out mild belches every five or so minutes. Stuffing my face with candy had become a slow and sluggish task, and I almost felt like some kind of overstuffed evil queen being approached by terrified peons. And being in that position was pretty scary, too, because when I bent over to hold out the bowl and tell the kids to take one I just ended up burping in their faces and grunting "One."Each took a Hershey's Kiss and hauled ass away from me, leaving me to my fattening feast. A few minutes later, as I dropped the sixth bowl to the ground with a clattering noise, I massaged my aching gut and let out one more thunderous burp, bumping the front door closed with my ass as I laid down on the couch to sleep off the feast.Winter WeightI always freaking loved Christmas. The music, the fun, the general feeling was always fantastic to me. The holiday had come at a great time, as well: I'd hit 345 pounds two weeks ago and needed a crapload of new clothes. I just assumed it was normal; I mean, everyone puts on winter weight, right? Of course, as I'd somehow managed to gain nearly 200 pounds in almost 2 years, my winter gain felt a lot bigger than everyone else's. All of the chocolates and cookies and cupcakes and candy didn't last long with me around. I didn't really like always eating so much, but I just couldn't help it and, honestly, I didn't really mind too much anymore. I swore I'd just lose weight over the summer because I was nevergonna work at Glut Burger again.I couldn't even fit into the foxy Christmas underwear that I'd bought on the first day of December. The bra and panties were red and lined with white fluff, and even at my extreme weight I felt truly sexy wearing it. Of course, now that my adipose-swollen tits were busting out and my gigantic bubble butt was straining the fabric to the point where it was just barely hanging on, I'd retreated back into The Sweatpants, which let me stuff my face with Christmas cookies and not feel an ounce of guilt.But things didn't really heat up until the night before Christmas, when I got up for a midnight snack and let things get a little out of hand. It was 3 A.M. and my parents had already finished going about their business. My dad stubbed his toe getting back into bed, which woke me up and sent me into full "I won't sleep unless I eat something" mode. Scratching my mostly-bare ass and yawning, I waddled down the stairs and flipped on the lights in the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what my options were.Nothing. My parents had clearly caught on to the fact that, if there were sweets in the house on a school vacation, I'd eat them faster than you can say "Nikki, you got fat." However, I did still have one option… but I just couldn't…But…I guess I could. Reaching into the back of the fridge, I grabbed the cake that I'd bought for my friend's Christmas party tomorrow that I was going to attend because my extended family was busy. The intention was to split it up tomorrow, but it wasn't exactly a huge cake and I wasexactly a huge girl at that point.Slamming my fat ass down on the wooden dining room chair with a weird "plop" sort of noise, I decided against utensils, grabbed a handful of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate syrup and stuffed it into my mouth with a loud moan that was almost orgasmic in nature. I greedily licked the remnants off of my fat fingers before digging into another two handfuls, not even caring about how much weight I was clearly putting on. It was then that I realized:I didn't care about how fat I was and I wasn't wearing The Sweatpants.This knowledge was relieving, empowering, and a little bit scary: why didn't I mind being fat? I'm a seventeen year old girl and I'm probably a little heavier than 350 pounds… and I'm okay with it? Oh, jeez… am I like Rachel? These worries quickened my gorging speed and I pushed an empty plate away from me with a belch after only five minutes, going into the bathroom to survey my enormous body.My gut, still just one big, flabby mass rather than the collection of rolls that some big bellies often became, hung and jiggled greatly with each of my movements. My breasts, still big even in proportion to the rest of my largeness, begged for release from my white bra, and its matching panties were barely hanging on against the force of my gigantic, wobbly ass, which led into a pair of thunder thighs that now touched no matter how hard I tried to spread them.I smirked; this wasn't just winter weight. This was me being really, truly obese. And, finally, I wasn't a wreck about it anymore.Merry Christmas.ValentineTo reflect my newfound confidence, I stopped dressing so loosely and I'd almost completely abandoned The Sweatpants in favor of shorts and tank tops. Of course, with my confidence I stopped having so many reservations about what I ate and started getting fatter faster; in only two more months I weighed in at 380-ish pounds on the brand new scale that I'd secretly bought and stashed under my bed. My mom didn't seem all too pleased, but she didn't confront me about it for whatever reason.While my gain was previously uneven with no specific body shape, my new poundage had shown me that I was really, really bottom-heavy. Yes, I was sporting a DDD chest and my belly was still big enough to fuel pregnancy rumors, but I simply got wider the further down on my body I went until my booty, which was now big enough to make me need between a chair and a half and two pretty much everywhere. I'd always had wider hips than shoulders, but now that I was fat it was getting ridiculous.On Valentine's Day, I made sure to dress my best: while the old me would have worn The Sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, I stuffed myself into tight jeans and an orange tank top with straps that cut into my shoulder-fat. It still felt awkward; I wasn't horribly ashamed of my obesity anymore, but I still wasn't a huge fan. I straightened my hair, which had grown to hang to my lower back, and put on just a tiny bit of makeup (as I'd learned last year, too much eye makeup makes you look really, really slutty.)Also contributing to my quickening weight gain was the fact that I'd managed to get a car earlier than I'd expected, meaning that I could now stop at Dunkin' Donuts for a pair of chocolate glazed every day before school in addition to my usual breakfast. Making matters even better was that Valentines' Day was on a Wednesday, when both of my parents were working and I was determined to get a date with Dan "the Hot Zombie" by the end of school. Making sure not to leave any room in my stomach for butterflies, I ate seven syrup-drowned chocolate chip pancakes, three glasses of orange juice, two donuts, and a bottle of chocolate milk for my breakfast, which had me belching under my breath all through my first class.My bigger-than-usual day-starting meal had another purpose as well: I eat when I'm stressed, and the prospect of telling Dan about the feelings I'd developed on Halloween of all days had gotten me worried enough to make my antiperspirant fail horribly, which forced me to keep my arms as my soft sides most of the time. I couldn't tell him in History or Spanish and he wasn't in my gym class, but something that did happen in gym was that we had to get our BMIs taken again, and we all remember how that went for me last year.With Rachel being a whale out in Oregon somewhere, I was now the fattest girl in class by about 150 pounds and everyone knew it; all eyes were on me when Ms. Williams called "Nicole Wood!"I sighed and waddled to her office, now noticing that my ass cheeks rose and crashed down heavily with each step. When I entered, she looked at me coldly, but barely surprised. "Top off. Get on the scale." I peeled my top off and exposed my pink bra, allowing my fat gut to flop free over the unbuttoned front of my jeans. I stepped onto the scale, which CLANGed as usual, and watched Ms. Williams move the weights around until settling on 387.5."54. Nicole," she sighed angrily, "We talked about this. You are morbidly obese now. You need to lose weight." She patted my stomach again. "If this thing was as big as it was last year, even that'd be an improvement. Okay?"I responded to her in the same fashion as last year, only louder this time. I squeezed my top back on and waddled out, taking my seat and picking my book back up, ignoring the stares and whispers I was getting.The next class was study hall, where I slept for 45 minutes, but after that came Chemistry, which I was hopeless at anyway so I figured it was time to make a move. We'd been let loose to do a lab about gas pressure or burning copper in hydrochloric acid or something else I didn't understand, but thankfully I had the mega-smart Bart Hanson for a lab partner, so I went off to talk to Dan because Bart didn't trust me near a Bunsen burner anyway (jeez, you almost sear a guy's junk off once and suddenly nobody trusts you!)Dan was shorter than me by about an inch, which would feel weird if, at 5'11", most guys I met weren't shorter than me. He had shaggy brown hair that fell over his goggles a bit and his green t-shirt was tight on him. As he lit his burner and adjusted the flame I leaned over the other side of the lab counter, half-unintentionally showing some cleavage, and smiled at him. "Hey.""Hi," he said, tossing a pair of goggles at me and hitting me lightly in the boob with them. "Don't stick your face into fire, Nikki.""Sor-ry," I said, speaking the "sor" and burping the "ry," pushing the fire toward him in the process and causing him to jump backward and shout. "Oh my god, sorry, sorry!" I yelled, standing up straight and quickly waddling over next to him. "You okay? I asked in the nervous, breathy voice that both Dan and fire often made me speak in."Yeah, fine," he laughed nervously, noticing my hand on his shoulder. "Just a little hot.""Yeah," I giggled like an idiot, hesitating before quickly taking my pudgy hand off of his hard, bony shoulder. "So where's your partner?"He looked around a little bit before shrugging. "Who cares? She never helps anyway.""I could help," I volunteered on impulse, and he raised his eyebrows in mild surprise."What about Bart?""He doesn't let me use fire anymore.""Right. Just, uh… yeah, just stay here and watch the flame while I get the beaker. And try not to char anybody's dick off.""Oh my God, that was once," I giggled as I tried and failed to look annoyed, flipping my hair behind my back so that it didn't get lit up. As I leaned over to look at the fire at eye level, in the process sticking my butt out into the aisle, I heard a slow and steady "rrrrrrrrrrip" that clearly signified the classic "fat girl's torn pants" dilemma. I shot up into a standing position and rand my hand lightly across my backside, feeling that there was now a long, thin rip that showed off my panties. Now, I'd gained a new confidence about my weight but I hadn't gained any confidence about my undies being visible, so I made sure to have my ass pressed hard against the lab counter when Dan came back with a glass container about halfway full of brown metal, which he grasped in a pair of tongs and held over the fire as it grew red."Burn anyone or anything?"I shook my head. "Nope. Surprised?""Very," he said, smiling at me as I grinned back. "Bart doing alright?""He's probably done by now, I don't care." Just as I finished my sentence, a metallic clatter was heard, followed by a FWOOSH of fire and a very, very agonized shriek from Bart's general direction of "OW, MY BALLS!"Dan's first instinct was to look to me. With both of my hands over my mouth in shock, I could only squeak "I didn't do it!"All through lunch, all anyone could talk about was the horrible injury that he'd sustained. As I didn't have many solid friends as much as people I talked to occasionally, where I sat depended on the day, and it just happened to be one of those days where my table only consisted of Dan and my semi-friend Maddy. Given that two of us were there for the incident, it came up rather quickly."Anything fun happen today?" Maddy asked, sounding bored as she took a bite out of her sandwich.Needless to say, she didn't expect Dan's answer of "Bart Hanson burned his crotch." The bluntness of the phrasing made me laugh, too, even though I'd seen the whole thing. As painful as it sounded, we all had to admit that the concept was really, really funny. Most of my laughter came from a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie, which made me blush, as except for Halloween I'd generally been good at hiding my gluttony from Dan.Even after I'd finished both of my cookies and my small bag of chips, my meal wasn't over yet. I still had to deal with the part of lunch that I'd been so good at hiding from my crush for the past year or so: other peoples' leftovers. It wasn't like I went around eating off of other peoples' plates, but since I now had an embarrassing reputation as a glutton people seemed to use me to dump their unfinished lunches into like a garbage disposal. As long as they hadn't already taken a bite of something, I figured it was fair game.I turned redder and redder as Dan witnessed me receive three small bags of Doritos, a cupcake, and half of Maddy's sandwich. He didn't say anything, but I knew he couldn't be thinking anything positive. Since things couldn't possibly get any worse, I ate all of it, releasing it with a belch as we were dismissed from the cafeteria. I think the hole in my jeans got just a tiny bit bigger. I didn't even get a grace period between my meal and seeing him again, as we had math together next- and to make matters worse, I sat right behind him.As I sat in my chair with the usual "plop"-ish noise that came from my butt-flab hitting the plastic, I became worried; that lunch had been very, very small for me, and my gut was sure to start groaning right in Dan's ear less than five minutes into class. I was entirely right, and I saw his head turn just a little bit as it happened so that his right ear was facing me under his hair just slightly more than before. Great, now my fat belly was making a scene. Just fantastic.When Mr. Cooper told everyone to compare our homework answers with someone near us, I immediately tapped Dan on the shoulder a few times and did a finger-wave. "Want to not talk about the homework?""More than anything," he agreed, pretending to be sharing answers with me as our teacher turned his attention to us. "And I don't wanna talk about Bart anymore, either. I'm getting sympathy pains."I giggled yet again, realizing that all the giggling was making me look like a complete dumbass. "Okay, fine, what'd you get for number do you want to go out with me on Friday?""I got 'yeah.' Did you?"I'm gonna pause the story for a second to ask you a question: are you as stupid as I am and have turned on a flashlight right into your eye? Or turned on the light in your bedroom while you were looking into it? Have you held your phone at an awkward angle on a sunny day and flashed a blinding gleam into your eye?My face was about ten times brighter than any of those. I'd always had a big mouth and my grin was taking up about half of my face. "I… I didn't even mean to say that out loud! Really?" I began to crack up, still under my breath to avoid making a scene."No, I'm kidding. Of course really, what kind of asshole do you think I am?" Dan laughed, having turned bright red. The nervousness in his voice reminded me of the way I sometimes spoke to him, and I knew that he wasn't just messing with me: He really did want this. Unfortunately, that day's calculus lecture didn't leave any room to talk about it. That was what English was for.As our English teacher was out, my favorite old mildly senile substitute let us use the period as a study hall, where half of the class worked quietly, 8 people napped, Paul Sullivan skipped as usual, and Dan and I talked in the corner. Planning the date was the easy part. We'd nailed down the dinner/movie format before the second bell even rang. The rest of our time was spent discussing what I saw as the most important issue facing the budding relationship: my weight."Yeah, I know, you're fat. And?" His casual attitude made me slightly less anxious and loosened the knot in my stomach a bit."And… well, how do you feel about that?" I asked, biting my lip."I… well, it's not a huge deal, but I sort of like it," he admitted, whispering into my ear to keep his secret. His breath on my ear gave me goosebumps. But did I luck out or what? The guy I'd had a crush on for two years had a thing for overweight girls. "I mean, I liked you even before you started to… you know, but when I noticed, even though I didn't want to say anything, you were driving me nuts."I blushed again. "So you really don't care if I'm fat? Because, fair warning, this probably isn't the biggest I'm gonna be. I mean, I gain weight fast.Like, ten pounds a month."Even he looked a bit surprised. "Ten pounds a month? Whoa, that's… that's pretty awesome, actually. And you don't care?""I used to… then I stopped. I mean, what's the use of hating yourself, right?""Exactly!" Dan agreed, banging his fist on his desk in the moment and attracting everyone's attention. "Uh, sorry, guys."I only had one worry left. "And you don't care that people are gonna laugh at you for going out with me?""Don't worry, Nikki. I'll be laughing at them because they don't get to have you for a girlfriend," he smiled, taking my hand lightly."D'aww," I cooed before I knew what I was doing. "Wait, so on Halloween… when you caught me eating…""Oh, that was downright hot," he admitted, "I went home and treasured that moment for the rest of the party."Right then, it hit me. I was happier than ever, I didn't have to feel insecure about my body all the time, and I'd even landed a relationship with my dream guy. Even though I hadn't worn them in months, buying The Sweatpants was the best damn thing that ever happened to me.
  6. J Geils band - Centerfold lyrics Does she walk? Does she talk? Does she come complete? My homeroom homeroom angel Always pulled me from my seat She was pure like snowflakes No one could ever stain The memory of my angel Could never cause me pain Years go by I'm lookin' through a girly magazine And there's my homeroom angel on the pages in-between My blood runs cold My memory has just been sold My angel is the centerfold Angel is the centerfold My blood runs cold My memory has just been sold Angel is the centerfold Slipped me notes under the desk While I was thinkin' about her dress I was shy I turned away Before she caught my eye I was shakin' in my shoes Whenever she flashed those baby-blues Something had a hold on me When angel passed close by Those soft and fuzzy sweaters Too magical to touch To…
  7. I've started an outline. https://workflowy.com/s/maid-of-honor/QaBgrPFIjsSTnNb9 I recommend saving your forks to your own account so you have a copy if it gets raided by trolls. Cross out suggestions you don't like instead of deleting them so others can use the inspiration.
  8. Push through that last 40%! Wrap up with all the de'Gaines becoming known for how thin they stay and a captive Elyna trapped in her room with the stretched thin enchantments on her corset now failing to grow with her immense body. Even the trusted staff are now transferring their excess weight. Her sister Elena, with a few worrisome pounds, comes to visit to see why Elyna hasn't checked in and must decided to join the de'Gaines or take half of Elyna's weight and hope they're mobile enough to leave together.
  9. Poll closed early on Elyna. I vote immobility.
  10. https://thechangingmirror.com/phpbb/viewtopic.php?f=11&t=6037&sid=ae51bd54994e555c0e754ac25e55045b There's this continuation by hgrambly.
  11. You fit right in. Look at the view count! Over 1000 lurkers want you here with us. Thank you for sharing your writing.
  12. Could you be conflagrating it with this one? https://www.deviantart.com/sfx777/art/The-Sorority-149724408 Devil’s fridge is in the recommended feed and she falls on her legs at 600lbs.
  13. https://www.deviantart.com/borin23/art/The-Devil-s-Refrigerator-334872596 ?
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