Finding Yourself Can Mean Getting Lost
By Built and Mink
Blaine was cutting wood for his evening dinner when he heard a sound in the distance. He snarled to himself in disgust. He had moved clear out here, away from civilization, because he found he was a better artist when he was alone. The sounds grew nearer, and he closed his eyes, hoping this was a dream.
"Eug, this is gross! What is that? Ah! Getitoff getitoff getitoff!!!" A girl scrambled into the clearing, slapping at her face and head. "I hate spiders! Ahhhh...!" She was crying, unable to help her arachnophobia.
Her clothes were torn, and she was brushing herself frantically as he threw down his axe and ran over to her. "Lady, please stop all that racket. There's nothing on you, see?" He then moved behind her and in a quick sweeping motion brushed the three or four large spiders on her back.
She tried to stop hiccuping, shivering in reaction, tears streaming down her face. She was only about 5'5, with short brown hair and green eyes. She would have been beautiful, if she had been clean and healthy. Dirty, starving, and all alone she fell on him, weeping helplessly at finally seeing a human being again.
Blaine didn't quite know what to do. He was uncomfortable with people, especially women. It wasn't that he didn't like them; he was embarrassed by his weight. He stifled a grunt as she sunk into him, sobbing.
"There, there...please stop. We're miles from the nearest town, and you must be starving. Calm down and come with me. You can clean up inside, I'll fix you something to eat, and then we can decide what to do when you feel better."
The young woman refused to let go of his burly arm, but allowed him to lead her forward. She slowly calmed down, taking deep breaths and really looking at her savior. She trusted him, somehow. He was a big man – in height and girth. He was dirty from labour, yet she was inexplicitly attracted. She couldn't help but noting how his large gut poured forth from his much-too-tight pants.
Seeing her calm down he tried to tuck in his shirt dislodged in the commotion back over his big belly and into his pants. It wouldn't go so he gave up and led her to the front door of his log cabin. He was proud of it, as he had built it himself. Once inside he disentangled himself and pushed her toward the big downstairs bathroom. “You'll find some clothes in there. When you're done, look for me in the kitchen.”
Looking at him then down the dark hall she shook her head. "I don't want to!" She was half crouched over, eyes fearful. Seeing him becoming frustrated, she slowly retreated down the hallway, disappearing behind a door.
Watching her until she disappeared into the bathroom he shook his head, wondering what she was so afraid of. “Ah well,” he sighed and after getting his shirt finally tucked in, moved heavily into his big kitchen where he started putting a meal together for the two of them. She was a mystery alright. What was such a good looking girl doing way the hell out here? "Good lord," he thought... "and look at me, I'm a slob, jeez." And peering into his reflection in the kitchen window, he tried to pull himself into order.
Darting into the kitchen with one of his large shirts and boxers on, she looked like a child playing dress-up in her daddy's clothing. She hugged him tightly, as far as her arms would reach around him. "Oh thank you so much! I was going crazy out there!" She loved the way he smelt of clean sweat and aftershave, and breathed it in deeply.
"Quit that, you're tickling me," he growled, still not reconciled to her presence, even though her arms sinking into his softness felt wonderful, he gently pushed her toward the kitchen table already groaning with food. "Have a seat, I don't know about you, but I'm starving from my wood cutting this morning." He blushed. "I guess I overeat a bit, but I work it off the next day." Jeez, who was he kidding with that line? Clamping his mouth firmly shut and avoiding her eyes he began serving her.
She couldn't help but smile warmly, thinking his blush was charming. "You look like the lumberjacks in all the stories - very powerul," She commented shyly. "By the way...I'm Gail." She shook his large hand, smiling up at him. "I can't believe your being so nice to a strange girl who was acting all crazy..."
"Hello Gail," he rumbled "I apologize for my appearance, but I don't get many visitors out here. I'm an artist, and I seem to do my best work while I'm alone...so I'm afraid as soon as you finish up eating I'll uncover the Jeep and run you back to town. It's a long and bumpy ride so better rest up." He realized she was still holding his hand, and he fell silent awkwardly.
Gail's smile faltered even though she tried to keep it. "Oh...I understand." She swallowed awkwardly and released his hand. "Sorry to impose...and there is no need to apologize for your appearance – you look wonderful."
"Thanks, you're being too kind. I know I'm fat, and most people have low tolerance for fat people. You hide your disgust better than most women I met." His voice was flat, stating the truth as he saw it. He wondered what she meant by "you look wonderful" – was she just happy to see anyone? Or could she actually appreciate his size?
Gail's eyes widened. "What?" She sounded dumbfounded and kept blinking at him uncertainly. He finished his plate and reached for another as he watched her fumble for words.
"You ARE joking right?" She smiled a little. "You're one of the handsomest men I've seen!" It wasn't flattery - with his shaggy hair, thickly muscled arms and full belly, he looked like a big bear. His piercing blue eyes and black hair set over his strong nose gave him an intense look. She fell quiet, afraid to have said too much.
For some reason her presence stimulated his appetite. Handsome! He couldn't remember ever being called that. He ate steadily, still watching her hands out of the corner of his eye. He imagined her eyes following every fork-full as he fed himself. Fat chance. Grunting he sat back, full and looked at her. She was watching him!
She was entranced by his eating - he was very deliberate yet seemed to savor every bite. She picked at her food, unable to concentrate. "So, um, where are you going to drop me off?" she asked faintly, moving the food around on her plate.
He grunted, now unsure of himself. He wanted her gone, and yet she seemed to belong. "Well, it'll be awhile before I can get to the Jeep. And it's getting late. I have a spare room upstairs if you want." He held his breath, watching her. "I, uh, won't disturb you if you're afraid of that." He felt highly uncomfortable, and so stemmed the feeling by stuffing more food in his mouth.
Her smile radiated relief, and her eyes positively glowed as he licked his fingers clean. "That would be wonderful! I mean, are you sure though? You said you liked your privacy..." She bit into a savory piece of rabbit.
"I'm sure. You have a nice way about you." He blushed again, he was being a dope. "I see you like that rabbit. It's a recipe of mine."
"I can't possible finish my plate..." She carefully scraped her food onto his plate. "It tastes wonderful, but I haven't eaten in a couple days...if I eat too much too soon I might get sick."
He grunted non-committally. “That's alright...I didn't think of that. Are you OK? I can eat this all day I'm afraid. Really I shouldn't...it's very fattening. It's what the Indians prepared to last them through the winters up here. Some Indian I'd make...actually I'd make 2 or 3," said with a grin. He wondered why he was admitting so much to her. Something about her glances made his skin tingle and made him want to relax his belly.
She touched his arm, laughing. “The bigger the better, as they say!” She let her eyes drop to the six inches of blubber hanging over his belt. "You never told me your name…”
He melted under her gaze. Her touch on his arm felt like fire. The same fire he felt earlier when her arms pressed into his flab. "Sorry, my name is Blaine. And you're most welcome to stay. To be honest, if you don't mind I still am very hungry, and I hate to see this rabbit go to waste. There's a 'waist' joke in there, but you've got me all flustered. It's been a great while since I had any company, especially someone as pretty as you."
She blushed deeply, her eyes lowering shyly. "I don't know why a handsome man like yourself would get flustered over a plain girl like myself. Besides, I'm so thin...I...thought...that you would go for a bigger girl.."
"I don't know about 'plain,' you cleaned up pretty good. And size, I don't care much. I like a sturdy woman with some meat on her bones, but then I like slender ones too. Not that I've had much experience with either." Shut up shut up shut up! His mind screamed. You're blowing it! He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. He couldn't remember ever eating this much before. He winced as he felt his belt dig into his underbelly as his huge meal began to move through him.
Gail shivered slightly, seeing his fat shake with every breath. Even his wide ass was apparent. "What kind of artist are you? I sketch, horses mainly..." She looked at him, her true young age showing through in her tentative movements.
Seeing her gaze fixed on his protruding belly, Blaine wondered if he should take a chance. "I paint covers for magazines...any subject, depends on what my client wants. Lately I've been studying anatomy, female that is, taking after the masters. There's something about a woman's body...the incredible curves and shapes. Well, to a man like me they're breathtaking.”
Gail couldn't help letting her eyes study him. He had gray hairs over his ears, which gave him a dignified look. Her eyes traced the smile lines around his eyes and mouth as well as the frown lines. She sighed and nodded in agreement to his statement about curves. "With men, too," she said, almost too quietly to hear
He was feeling powerful and yet helpless at the same time. He felt attracted to this young, beautiful lady, yet he needed to test her before he made any decisions about letting her stay. "Listen, I really overate and can't seem to get this buckle undone…can you help?"
Turning red, Gail moved around the table slowly, hands reaching for his waist. She struggled for a few moments, then prodded his full middle with a finger. "Can you suck this in?" She slipped her fingers between his taut flesh and his pants, struggling for enough slack to undo the button.
”It IS sucked in. Tell me about the horses you paint. I have a studio upstairs I think you would enjoy," and gasped as her fingers slipped under his belly and into his cruelly tight waistband.
Helplessly, she started to laugh. "My fingers are stuck! Can you lift your belly up? I think it's big enough to do that. I sketch horses...Especially wild ones. Pencil and pen are my main tools." Gail struggled to free her fingers, making his paunch jiggle against her fingers. "What do you use? Paint?"
"Watercolor," he gasped again as her fingers wiggled under his fat. "Let me see, hang on…" and he reached under and lifted his belly off his lap. He could feel her fingers momentarily snagging one of his shirt buttons as she fumbled for his waistband.
She popped it and then giggled. "You seem to be enjoying this!" She was too, admittedly. "Here..." She rubbed the red mark his jeans had created, then blushed and stopped, pulling back. She stood up, his oversized shirt making her look so small and vulnerable.
"I just got my licence to sell my work. You have to be 18 to get it, and I only just turned." Her face was slowly loosing its redness, and she sat down beside him, hands clasped in her lap.
"I like pencil, too, but it's so soft and ephemeral. Pen and ink are tough to master...too easy to make mistakes. No, don't stop, that feels so good." He relaxed as his belly spilled out unconfined. He could feel his shirt ride up in front and tried to pull it down. "18? you look much older. Of course in that outfit you look like you're about 12. Darn you are cute. Thanks for releasing this big belly of mine. I really should take better care of myself…” He sighed, watching her reactions. "Living up here with my own cooking has really packed on the pounds. Sometimes I wake up and can hardly get to my feet. Then I'll starve myself for a week. Pretty dumb, eh?"
"What do you mean, better care of yourself? And, yes, very stupid. I don't see why you need to starve yourself," she said honestly. She smiled to take the sting out of her words and touched his hand. "Starving yourself is the worst thing you can do!"
"I mean that if I didn't slow down every so often I blow up like a balloon. Thus I starve myself for a week or so to get this belly down to a manageable size. Sure, I know it's wrong, but what can I do? By myself there's no one to help me. Hell, I can't even pick up a paintbrush if I drop it...have to get on my hands and knees and pick it up with my teeth." he grinned at her. Another couple days eating like this, and you'd see!”
She was flustered and didn't respond, just smiled awkwardly. He patted her hand. "That's OK, don't worry. How are you feeling? Tell me how the hell you found me, and what the heck you're doing this far out in the wilderness?"
"To be honest, exhausted...I was run- uh, I mean, I got lost and couldn't find my way out of the forest. Then this spider landed on me..." Her throat locked up and she let out a frightened little noise.
"Spider? Well, there are no spiders here, just a big old fat artist." She smiled, and he relaxed. He loved her smile – it was so radiant and made him feel years younger. He wondered what she'd started to say. Running? What... or who from? She had a soft innocence about her - and something else he couldn't put his finger on. An air of mystery...she carried herself well, she was obviously well bred. Although he could be mistaken. Hard to tell with her in those baggy clothes of his.
"So, like I said you're welcome to stay. Actually, if you're of a mind you can stay as long as you want. I can set up a corner of the studio for you to work. Can you cook?"
She tried to keep her eyes open, but they were slowly closing. "I can…I don't tink...ahhww!" She yawned, "your old, n' I dun mind at all, you bein' fat I mean. Its act'lly verry sexsy…" Her voice trailed off as she feel deeper into exhaustion.
He almost felt like crying – she thought he fat was sexy? Blaine knew he must have misheard, yet he felt waves of release wash over him. He caught her as she slumped forward toward the table. She was exhausted. He picked her up and carried her into his spare bedroom and gently laid her on the bed. He pulled back the heavy comforter and slid her underneath. He thought she was mumbling faintly, and he leaned closer over her in the darkened room.
"Th'k mchly, vry hndsme. G'night.." She managed to kiss him on his stubbly cheek before falling asleep fully.