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I Turned Into a BBW

This is in response to the people who wanted fiction stories where the FA becomes a BBW. If you would like to see more man to BBW stories email wavx33c@aol.com

As I wake up in the hospital, the forklift accident returns to my memory. I don't know if it was my fault, or the driver's, but I got pinned against a wall. The doctor comes in and tells me the extent of my injuries. My knee was injured, but in time it will heal. He is more concerned about the injuries to my testicles, and whether they will function normally again.

He tells me that the endocrinologist has already ordered tests. At that time, the endocrinologist walks in, and the doctor lets him explain. He tells me that the injury have caused them to stop producing male hormones. He tells me that my body has produced large quantities of male and female hormones, and that the male hormones prevented the female hormones from showing up. But with the absence of male hormones, I may experience gynecomastia. I ask him what that is, and he tells me about teenage boys who gain weight in their chests. I remember that, and it went away, so I am not concerned.

A few days later I am released from the hospital with appointments with the endocrinologist and the orthopedic surgeon. Once I got home, I got a call from the HR person at work, telling me that I will be transferred to the accounting department. I could either stay there, or be transferred back to the warehouse, once I heal.

My day back to work consisted mainly of meeting with Kathy, the company accountant. She was a BBW, but I was certainly used to being with BBWs. My sister was a large lady, but she always had a lot of guys. I probably would have been large too, but I always worked out a lot. I didn't do it to be thin, I just loved exercising. Of course I wouldn't be exercising for quite a while until my knee healed.

She was showing me the ropes, and showing me my job. Early in the morning, she takes a candy bar from her desk, and starts eating it. She offered me one, and I accepted. She told me that she didn't diet any more. She ate when she was hungry. She told me that she had gained a lot of weight from yoyo dieting, and that she expected her weight to stabilize, although she was still gaining now. I had told her that my sister was a BBW, so I was cool with it.

Several days had gone by. I enjoyed the atmosphere in accounting. It was just Kathy and I. Our office as away from the other offices, and we even had our own entrance into the building. We were also getting along very well. I brought in candy bars and other snacks and shared them with Kathy. I could tell she was gaining weight. She wore stretch clothes, but I could tell from the outline of her bra, that it was way too tight, and I was sort of getting turned on from the jiggling of the flesh above her cups. But I was gaining weight too. The combination of no exercise and a lot of snacks was starting to show.

She had invited me to her house for dinner and I was looking forward to it. I was starting to like her in a romantic way. I think she was starting to like me in the same way. The dinner was fantastic. But after a week of trying to squeeze into my old clothes after gaining a lot of weight, my pants button popped. I couldn't get the zipper to close. Kathy laughed and told me not to worry. I told her that I couldn't go home without pants, and that it was too late to buy anything that night. She went into her bedroom, and found an old pair of stretch pants. "Good thing I kept my old clothes," she said. I put on the pants, but not having tight pants to hold my gut in caused my shirt to rip. She went back to her bedroom and came back with a blouse. I started to put it on, but had a problem with the buttons. She explained that the buttons buttoned the opposite way.

It was embarrassing enough to pop my pants button, but now I was wearing woman's clothes. Although as we sat and watched TV, I hadn't had clothes feel so good in weeks. Kathy and I sat closer to each other. Then we were holding hands. She then patted my the stretch pants I was wearing and told me that they never looked so good on her. I told her it was embarrassing to be wearing them. She told me she really loved the way I looked in them. She told me it was erotic to see a man wearing them. She then got extremely romantic, so it made wearing them much more enjoyable. I told her that I hope I could find something to wear to work the next day. She told me to wear the stretch pants. She said no one would see them since we had our own entrance to the building. We spent the rest of the night holding hands and eating junk food. I looked for some clothes that would fit for work the next day, but everything was way too tight. So I put on the stretch pants and blouse Kathy gave me. When I got to work, there was a bag on my desk. I looked in it, and it was filled with stretch pants and tops. I was torn between the embarrassment of wearing woman's clothes and the comfort of the stretch clothes, plus the encouragement of Kathy to wear them. I did buy some new clothes, but there was not much of an incentive to wear them.

A few days later, my chest had gotten extremely itchy. I kept scratching while watching TV at Kathy's. She asked me what I was scratching. I opened my shirt (actually a blouse she had given me) and we both noticed that my nipples had become very swollen. "It looks like your gynecomastia is showing," she said I had almost forgotten what the doctor had told me. In a few days I had an appointment with my endocrinologist anyway. She smiled and told me that she had experienced the same thing. "When and how did you deal with the horrible itching?" I asked. She smiled and told me that she had encountered it as a preteen and that a training bra had helped the itching by stopping the outer clothes from rubbing against the nipples.

She went into the closet in her bedroom and got out 3 boxes of "chubby girl" training bras. I asked her if she had a store in there, and she told me that she had gone through a lot of different size clothes. She told me that the training bras were still in their boxes because her mother could only find them by mail order, and by the time she ordered them a second time, Kathy had already outgrown them. It seemed that my dressing in her clothes was a big turn on for her. I certainly wasn't going to rain on her parade by refusing, but I thought there was no way in hell I was going to wear those things once I left her home. She put one on me, tightened the straps and I put my shirt back on.

That night I went home, put on my pajamas and went to bed. Several hours later, I woke up from the itching. I took my pajamas off, but was very cold. I then put the training bra back on, put my pajamas on and slept like a baby for the rest of the night. The next morning I put on a polo shirt, but almost looked obscene with my nipples sticking out. I then put on a blouse, but the scratching was unbearable. Kathy was right. I needed the training bra.

I had my appointment with the endocrinologist. He told me that I would still have to wait before e could begin any treatment. He said he still needed to wait to see if my hormones would fix themselves, or if he needed to give me injections. He told me if I suffered any gynecomastia, I could get liposuction.

Kathy and I continue to hit it off very well. She was still bringing in a lot of candy bars, and I did too. She had gained some weight, but I was gaining even more. I kept thinking that once my knee healed, I would exercise and lose the weight. But so far, that didn't happen. What was even worse, is that the female hormones were starting to cause my weight gain to take on feminine proportions.

My nipples had enlarged tremendously and now my areolas were enlarging too. The training bras that I swore I would never wear became a staple of my wardrobe to prevent my nipples from showing through my clothes, and to keep my shirt from rubbing my very tender growing nipples. My hips were growing and Kathy's old stretch pants fit and felt so much better than even the new pants I had bought at my larger size.

While I was really enjoying our blossoming relationship with Kathy, the changes in my body and my new wardrobe was a source of anxiety. Kathy was a great help in helping me accept the changes. I guess it also helped that she was enjoying my weight gain and the changing proportions of my body. My growing nipples had become part of Kathy's affection, as she showed them extra attention.

I knew I was still gaining. For several weeks, I continued to have candy bars with Kathy, snacks at her house, and even eating at home. I still had not done any exercising. I was still wearing Kathy's old stretch pants and blouses a lot. Nobody really noticed since I wore a jacket over them, and we were pretty much left alone at work.

Kathy told me she needed to have a serious talk. She kissed me, so I knew it didn't have anything to do with our relationship. When we got to her house, she asked me how my chest itching was doing. I told her that it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been. She asked me to take my shirt off so she could see. She touched my bulging training bra, and I told her, "Yeah I know I am getting fat." "Mmmm," she said. "I love your weight gain. But it's more than just a weight gain there. You are developing breasts. I don't know if they can fix your hormone problem. It's OK if they don't. But with the weight gain and the hormones, you are going through a BBW puberty. I know, because I went through it too many years ago. I want to help you."

"My clothes have worked well for you, but you need to get your own. I don't have any bras the next size up, which you need. We need to go shopping. You'll need clothes both to accommodate your weight gain, plus clothes to accommodate your hour glass figure. Do you realize that despite your weight gain, your waist has gotten smaller?" "No," I said. 'That is why you need me to help. I've been through these changes. The hormones is causing the weight to shift."

I guess I was looking a little depressed. She assured me that she would always love me and that no matter what my body looked like I would always be a man to her. She then took off my shirt and bra, and massaged my fully feminine nipples and areolas, which now were starting to stick out further than the rest of my chest.

We went clothes shopping the next day. Kathy took me into the girls' department, and picked out some teen bras. They were AA cup. "This is what comes after the training bras," she told me. We then stopped in the men's department. I tried on some pants and shirts. I came out of the dressing room for Kathy to take a look. The shirts were straining at the buttons in my chest, and the seats of the pants were too tight. She told me that we should look for some masculine looking clothes in the woman's department, since they would fit me better. We picked out a few items that did not look too feminine. On one hand, I was getting used to wearing woman's clothes, on the other, I was getting scared that it would be more than just a temporary thing. But one thing was for sure. I kept gaining weight, and I kept eating.

We went back to her house; I tried the clothes on. The bra was kind of tight, and caused rolls of fat to hang out of my side. Kathy gave me some bra back extenders and put them on the back of my bra, making it looser. "When you get fat, these come in very handy," she said. "The will make tight bra fit." The woman's pants covered my expanding hips nicely.

I think normally I would have freaked out to think that I was practically turning into a BBW. But the growing relationship between Kathy and I had permeated my mind more than the changes in my body. I was really enjoying eating, and did much of it with Kathy, Even when she was not there, eating reminded me of being with Kathy.

It took me only a month to outgrow my clothes. We went to the bra section, and Kathy picked out some 36A bras. She said that they probably would not fit very well. She said that when I become a B cup, they make bigger bras, with wider straps and that they are much better for fuller figures. That sort of freaked me out. "What do you mean when I become a B cup?" I've grown little breasts and put on a little weight. When I get the hormone problem fixed and exercise, I'll be slim again, without these breasts. Kathy looked at me and said, I don't see any near term end to the changes in your body. Your BBW puberty is exactly like mine. I ended up a DD cup. You might too. But maybe they will fix your hormone problem, and maybe you'll work out again. I don't know. We stopped at the woman's department to buy pants and tops. Nothing overly feminine.

When we got back, we were both eating as usual. Kathy's weight was beginning to stabilize, but it seems that I was putting on weight for both of us. I put on the new 36A bra using a back extender. I was wondering why I even bothered. It did keep my nipples from being so obvious, and my boobs from jiggling. But the sides were stuck between my rolls of fat, and it was tight. The new jeans fit OK, but I was surprised how big my butt was getting,

The words that my changes were just like Kathy's kept echoing in my mind. I was really getting worried. OK, so I have small breasts that can be smooshed down. I am wearing woman's pants and tops, but after the rapid changes in my body are complete, I'll find men's clothes that fit. There must be men's clothes that fit. I love to eat, and I haven't exercised. But I'll get back into my routine. The doctor can liposuction my A cup breasts and make them small again. I kept telling myself all these changes are temporary. But Kathy won't tell me that. She keeps telling me how she loves my breasts, and my woman's clothes. She loves my weight gain. She thinks I am going to look like her. I mean, she is really cute. But I'm not a BBW. I'm not a woman.

Work was going well. I enjoyed accounting. I told the HR person I wanted to stay here. Even though I saw Kathy at work at most of our spare time, I couldn't get enough of her. I knew she felt the same way. She was my mentor in accounting. But she was also helping me take my mind off the changes in my body. Well, not exactly, sometimes she was helping me accept the changes.

As another couple of months went by, the changes were getting harder to ignore. My belly was jiggling. My bra didn't cover my growing breasts. My body hair was almost gone, and I didn't need to shave as much. Kathy pointed out that my skin was clearer. They were all changes from the hormones.

One night, when I was with Kathy and ready to go to bed, I took off my clothes, and stood in front of her naked. "Look at this," I said. My belly is so loose and jiggly. My breasts are getting bigger and sagging. I feel like such a mess. I look like such a mess. "How can you stand this?" She told me to lie down, and she touched my breasts, and I was in pure heaven. After she calmed me down, she told me that we needed to go shopping again, and she would take care of my problems.

The next day, she took me straight to the lingerie department. She looked at some briefs, then handed some to me. "Women used to wear girdles," she said. Now they just wear these briefers. They are like girdles, but not as tight. That will firm up your tummy. Then she picked out some bras. They were 42B. They just don't make A cup bras that fit us BBWs she said. I could have special ordered some that were 40A, but the way you are growing, you would have outgrown it before they came. Even then, they are not as supporting as these. Instead of hanging, they were in boxes. They were Just My Size, and made especially BBWs.

When we got home, I put on my new 42B bra. Since it was a support bra, it made me a lot larger on up top. I wore my briefer, and while my figure was much more under control, it was much more feminine. I put my blouse on, but even though it was cut for a woman's figure, my breasts were just too big for it now. My feminization was now much more obvious.

Kathy suggested we go out again to get some larger blouses. I agreed, since I was embarrassed enough having breasts, it looked worse when my top was too small for my growing breasts. She then seriously told me that I was becoming a BBW and should check out for other clothes too. On one hand, I was very scared since it meant I was almost a BBW. Yet, I knew with the changes my body were going through, that I needed to look at things differently.

When we went inside the store, I bought my usual plain white blouse but in a bigger size to accommodate my new bulging breasts. Kathy suggested we walk down all the aisles in the woman's department. I got several night gowns after Kathy encouraged me. I knew she would be excited to see my breasts in something revealing. When we went past the dress section, Kathy suggested that I get some tent-style dresses, so I would be comfortable when I was home.

When we got home, I tried on my blouses, and they fit well. I now had clothes to wear at work, although it was very obvious I had breasts. But I shouldn't feel bad. After all, it wasn't my choice that I was injured at work. I then tried on the tent dress. It was funny, but as soon as I tried it on, I wanted to eat. I sat and watched TV with Kathy, and just shoveled the food in my mouth. I never thought I would go from a slim trim and in shape male to a fat BBW couch potato wearing a tent dress eating everything in site.

But the biggest change was the tent style dresses I bought for around the house. At work, I felt a little uncomfortable with the added weight, the bra and briefer and the other changes. But at Kathy's, I felt really comfortable with the dress. I told Kathy how comfortable they felt. She told me that maybe I could start wearing dresses at work, but I told her there was no way I could do that. She told me that maybe I would change my mind.

Things hadn't changed too much in the next couple of months. I was gaining some weight, but my clothes were loose enough to accommodate the weight. Our relationship was growing, and even the talk of marriage crept in the conversations.

One night as we snuggled on the couch, Kathy opened my blouse to play with my nipples. My breasts had overflowed my 42B's. She poked the flesh hanging out above the cups, and told me it was time to go shopping again. Over the past few months, I was a B cup long enough to acquire bras several times. I didn't know if I was going to stay a B cup or keep growing. But the bulging cups made it obvious that I was still growing. The next night, we went to Wal-Mart, and Kathy discreetly brought a 42C to the men's dressing room. When I tried it on, it was a little tight. Kathy went back to the lingerie department with a 44C. It fit perfectly. I bought 3 of them.

When we got home, I tried it on again. I just loved the way it fit, and the way it felt. I was trying it on with my work clothes, my dresses I wore around the house, and my sleepwear. It was obvious that I would need new work clothes pretty soon, since the larger bra caused a more outward projection of my growing breasts.

I don't know if it was the hormones, or what. However, I was starting to enjoy my feminine shape and my gaining weight. Kathy and I had a discussion about work. We both agreed that I could no longer hide my bulging bosom. I enjoyed wearing support bras, and had no intention of wearing sports bra to mush down my breasts to make them harder to see. We thought we would talk to the HR person, telling her that the breasts were a result of an on-the-job injury, and that they should accept it. She agreed. A small article was placed in the company newsletter, so that everyone would know.

I also needed some new dresses for around the house. After looking at the plain tent dresses, and then looking at some stylish dresses, I decided on the stylish ones with Kathy's encouraging. They were form fitting, showing off my new full breasts. I knew if I gained more, I would outgrow the new dresses more quickly.

As the weeks went by, Kathy encouraged me to explore not only my emerging femininity, but to explore the world as a gaining BBW. I started to read books about fat acceptance. I also subscribed to BBW and Radiance. AT first I was more interested in the political aspects of being fat, but found myself getting more and more interested in the fashions and style. I studied the ads, including fashions, cosmetics, etc. I spent hours talking about what I read with Kathy. I was the BBW they were talking about. At first, just the dresses and bras. But I wanted the pantyhose, the panties, the cosmetics they talked about. At home, I was a total BBW.

As I bought new clothes for work, I was not as rigid as I had been as far as looking strictly unisex. I was buying some blouses with a little lace, extra buttons, etc. Everyone at worked now knew that the damage to my testicals was the cause of my breasts and somewhat feminine appearance. I say somewhat because while I lived as a BBW at home, I still wore mostly plain things at work, and very few people got a look at me didn't notice I was wearing woman's pants and blouses over my bra.

One BBW magazine had a large article on hairstyles. One evening while Kathy and I were sitting close on the couch, she saw me reading the article and looking at the pictures. She asked what style I liked the best, I pointed to a somewhat page boy style with thick bangs. "Have you ever thought of letting your hair grow out?" Kathy said. I told her that I had thought about it, but never really acted on it. She told me that about the only thing left at home to become a total BBW was to let my hair grow. I told her that I was a little hesitant because of work. She reassured me that men had hair that length, and if I didn't style it, it would look OK for work. She also reminded me that I already looked somewhat fem at work anyway with my C cup breasts and feminine looking hips.

Reading BBW and Radiance certainly didn't encourage me to eat any less. I was happy with my life with Kathy and working in accounting. The snacking at work and at home was causing me to still gain. My clothes were getting tight and uncomfortable again, especially since I was wearing more form fitting clothes than I had been. Kathy and I went shopping. I was up to a 44D bra. By hips had gotten a lot larger. While in the past it was first my tummy that was hardest to fit, then my breasts. But now if something was too tight, it was probably around the hips.

I had gained so much weight, that I was facing some of the problems I was reading about in the magazines. I was finding that some chairs with arms would no longer accommodate my huge butt and stomach. I also found myself bumping into things, not used to my huge breasts projecting out in front of me. But none of that stopped me from eating. While I had enjoyed wearing stylish dresses at home, I was back to wearing tent dresses during periods of fast weight gains. I went back to wearing stretch pants at work to accommodate my growing belly and butt. Large flowing blouses kept my growing breasts and midriff covered.

Every once in a while, Kathy would put a little lipstick on me. Then she would hand me the lipstick and tell me to try it. She did it with other cosmetics too. Nail polish, powder, etc. I enjoyed her games, and thought the only reason she did it was to play games. I had picked up on all the techniques. I had also let my hair grow out. Kathy had cut my hair into a page boy style, which I usually combed and rubber-banded into a more male style.

By this time, we were living together and talking marriage. One night as I was getting ready for bed, Kathy commented on how tight my tent dress has become. "Tent dresses are nice because there is a lot of room for weight gain, but they don't have an unlimited capacity," she said. I knew that as soon as I took it off, she would comment on how tight my bra had become. Even at the loosest hook, my breasts were overflowing the cups, and the band was squeezing my fat over and under the bra.

"OK," I said, "let's go shopping tomorrow, and you can slip me some new bras into the dressing room and I'll try them on." Kathy told me that I couldn't spend my life sneaking clothes into the men's dressing room. She told me that I could no longer go into department stores anyway, since the only place that would sell my size is large size woman's stores. I told her that woman's clothes fit so much better, and I didn't see how I could go back to wearing men's clothes with my size and figure. She told me to sit down. She looked me straight in the eyes, and told me that while she considered me a male, there was no way I had an outward appearance of a male. She told me she had been preparing me to live as a female, since in my present condition, I could no longer pass as a male. She told me that the cosmetic games was a way to teach me to apply cosmetics. She said that she encouraged me to grow my hair long so I would be ready to live as a woman.

"But I am a male," I protested. "I grew up as a boy. I've always been a male. I enjoyed playing our games, but I didn't plan to turn into a female." Kathy told me that she considered me a male. To prove the point, she pulled down my panties and started to stroke my penis. But I could not get excited. The hormones have shrunk my penis. She then took off my bra, and started to play and suck on my nipples. I was having orgasms as she sucked and played with my breasts. When it was all over, I had to agree that there wasn't much left of my maleness.

The next morning, Kathy and I worked on my dressing makeup and hair. I had to agree that I looked more natural as a woman than as a man. Kathy showed me how to comb my hair into the page boy style. She gave me some last minute pointers on cosmetics. We looked at several outfits to find one that didn't look too tight on me, since I had gained a lot of weight since I went shopping last. On the way to the stores, we talked about the wedding. I would have to be married as a male. About the only other time I wanted to dress as a male was my final appointment with the doctor.

We went to Catherine's. The first item of clothing was a bra. I knew my cup size had increased, so I figured that since I was a 44D, that I would try on a 46DD. But to my surprise, it was still too tight. I asked Kathy to get me a 48DD off the shelf, and it fit. I was in a bit of shock that I had grown so big. I just stood there staring at the huge cups, wide straps and wide back. I could not believe how far I was projecting out.

I then looked at the dresses and other outfits. I tried several on, but I was a 32W/34W. There was not much in the store that would fit me. I was even bigger than Kathy now. There was not much that was unisex looking. But it didn't matter anymore. From now on I was dressing as a BBW, since that is what my body had become.

In the following months my weight had stabilized. While I did buy some clothes in stores, at my size the most selections were on line and in special catalogs for super BBWs. I had perfected my make up and hair styling. I had dressed as a male only 2 times.

The first was my final trip to the doctor. He was shocked when he saw my huge drooping breasts. He told me that he could no longer do liposuction, but would have to do a complete surgical removal. I thanked him, but told him I would manage the way I am. I could have told him that I love my new figure, but he probably wouldn't understand.

My last time as a male was my wedding the Kathy. It was almost impossible to find a suit that fit. I was so large, that it was hard to find a suit that was oversized to hide my BBW curves. Even with my oversize suit, my large butt was very obvious. And a sports bra, never meant to hold my 48DD breasts could not hide my bulging breasts. But after the ceremony I could not wait to get into my clothes that fit. Kathy's caressing my huge breasts and large nipples was the best honeymoon anyone could hope for.