Weight Room Title Bar

Martina Hingis's Story
by Mason

At the ripe old age of seventeen, Martina was on top of the world. She was number one in the world, had the most earnings for the year, a great family and following of fans. Martina had it all. Until the last tourney of 1998.

As Martina entered the first round, her trainer told her that her knees were tender and her wrists were weak. Martina had been told this repeatedly before, but never took any notice of it. During the pre-game warm-ups, she ran along the baselines. On her final step, she hollered out in pain. The crowd hushed, then a slight murmur filled the court. Her parents, trainer, and a local medic ran to her. They did not arrive in time to prevent her from falling to the clay. "My leg, my leg!" Martina yelled out, crying more with each holler. The trainer and medic agreed she had torn a ligament and they promptly called an ambulance.

Once at the hospital, the doctor came out with an x-ray much to the dismay of Martina's parents. "Well, I believe she has torn her ACL beyond repair," the doctor said. "I want to give her possibly six months to a year off to let it heal. She won't walk for the next three months, and after that she can begin to move slightly. After that, it will all just depend on how she reacts." Martina began to cry, but her family consoled her with the fact that she could now bond with all her friends from school. Martina quit crying, and smiled at her folks.

After several days of surgery to allow her movement in her leg, Martina went home. She immediately called all of her friends to verify that she was alive. Her best friend, Alice, spoke to her over the phone in a devilish tone. "You know," Alice said in a sneaky voice to Martina, "Now that you are no longer playing tennis, you can stop your diet." "No way!" Martina responded to Alice. "I don't think that will work. The doctor said in a year I could pla..." "Are you going to listen to what some stupid doctor has to say?" Alice asked. Martina simply said, "Uh,... I don't know." Martina had been prone to listen to whatever her friends had told her, despite what she thought was right. "Well, how about every weekend we get together, and I will remind you how you were before you became a tennis goddess." At this Martina laughed and then agreed, hanging up the phone happily. Now Martina counted the days until she would get to see Alice.

That Saturday, Alice came over with a paper bag filled with junk food. "Do you know how long it has been since I have had chocolate?" Martina asked, reaching for the box of chocolate bars. Alice did not bother to answer, as her mouth was already stuffed with chocolate. The two simply sat and ate chocolate for hours, laughing at each other the whole time. Alice was a heavier girl, with all of her weight in the right places. She was about 5'7'' and 165 lbs. Now Martina was incapable of standing on a scale, so she no longer bothered weighing herself. The two continued eating and talking the whole night.

The next morning, Martina woke up before Alice. She managed to use the restroom with her wheelchair, and got back into bed. As she lied down, she noticed that her stomach felt heavier. It didn't bother her, but it was noticeable. Martina shrugged it off, and woke up Alice. "Hey Alice," Martina whispered. "We have to do this next weekend." "Sure, but from now on you have to supply the money for grub," Alice said, smiling. The two continued talking, and then Alice brought up Martina's tennis career. "So, do you think you can keep eating like this and still play tennis?" Martina thought for a second, then vocalized. "I figure, I can work off whatever I gain." Alice smiled. Alice had not even introduced the idea of all that the two were eating would effect their weight. To Alice, it didn't matter. And it was looking like Martina didn't care either.

For the next month, the same process would take place. Martina would spend days at home, learning from a tutor for two hours, then laying around. All Martina did was lay around, eating snacks that were becoming increasingly unhealthy. Her parents began to allow her to indulge in "occasional" snacks. Little did they know that Alice would come over and claim to eat some, when in fact she would actually steal some and bring them to Martina. As the weeks went by, Martina became more and more slothful, more and more lazy. She kind of liked not having the responsibility of the tennis world on her back. Martina started to outgrow her clothes, so she would sometimes just lie around naked in her bed. Martina was in a state of bliss. Until she got new from her doctor she could go ahead and walk.

"I apologize, but I think there was an exaggerated amount of time on the recovery sheets. I think she can begin to walk now," the doctor informed the parents. When they told her, she panicked, and gave money to Alice to buy her some new clothes. But, her parents made her try to walk, so she had to put on some clothes. She rummaged through her dressers, looking for some pants that would fit. She found her largest pair of denim shorts. As she tugged them up her legs, she initially noticed how weak her arms had become. Then she noticed that they would not button. Her matching tennis shirt she wore exposed her midriff. Her former abs of steel had no definition. As a matter of fact, they leaked out over the top of her shorts, showing some newly gained weight. She kind of enjoyed its warmth, but she did not really take note of it.

She hobbled over to a scale and read the number that came up. "155!" she yelped. "Oh my! I have got to exercise some of this off," Martina told herself aloud. She laid down on her floor, and began to do crunches. Ten minutes and seven crunches later, Martina huffed and puffed and sat down on her bed. Out from under the bed came a bag of candy she had stashed from her parents. She ate until she could not move. Martina lied down in bed, belly jutting upward in a fashion she was alien to. She completely forgot her parents were going to start working out with her. They came into her room and saw her stomach protruding from her shorts slightly, and acted confused.

"Uh, Martina.... we've been meaning to talk to you about your tennis career. We have been told you can start exercising again." Martina smiled, hoping that would please her parents. They half-smiled, half-frowned at her physique. Martina's parents left her, and she called Alice. "Alice, I need you to hurry up and bring me some clothes I can exercise in." Alice had grown as well, gaining fifteen pounds in the past month in comparison to Martina's twenty five. "Well, I will see what I can do," Alice answered. Alice could not remember Martina's measurements, so she bought what she thought Martina was. She rushed the clothes to Martina's house.

The next day, Martina began to exercise for the first time in a month. "Let's start with some calisthenics," her trainer said. First, Martina stretched out her leg and tried to grab her toes. As she stretched, her stomach came out from underneath her short shirt. Alice got a T-shirt one size too small. Her breasts had grown a cup size, and she was forced to wear one of Alice's bras. Her sports bras no longer came close to fitting. Then there was her skirt. Her tennis skirt Alice bought dug into her sides and allowed for love handles to spill out. But reaching to grab her toes also showed off her gut, which hung over about two inches over her waistband. The trainer frowned, but continued to help her train. "Okay, let's move along to stamina." He had her attempt wind sprints. "Go!" he shouted.

As Martina began, he new weight was awkward. She began to jog, and as she arrived at the baseline, she bent over and panted. "My god girl! We are doing windsprints! Let's go!" the trainer hollered angrily. Martina continued to jog, jiggly as she went. "Oh, hell! That's enough for today," the trainer said, angry at Martina. Martina was upset, and walked inside crying.

Her parents had a conference with her trainer, and then invited Martina to come in to the room. The trainer had gone home, and left the family to discuss her tennis career. "Well Martina," Martina's dad said, "Bill (the trainer) has given the ultimatum that you must lose the weight in two weeks or he will quit." Martina began to cry, and her mother consoled her. "Now, we want you to be happy. So you can either lose the weight and play tennis, or you can take some time off." Martina stopped sobbing, and became pensive for a while. After acting like she needed to think, she said, "I need time off." Her father gave her a hug, and she went upstairs to call Alice.

"Alice, Alice!" Martina shouted across the phone. "I get to take some time off from tennis." "Well, good deal," Alice said. Martina was made even happier by the fact she could get to attend public school for the first time in a long while. Over the second month since her accident, she continued to have Alice over. Alice became very large, bingeing almost daily. Martina did not think poorly of her, because Alice was her friend through thick and thin. Martina continued to gain as well, skyrocketing from 155 to 185. Her hips became wider, with a sensual swish to them. Her breasts became a 40 DD, massive compared to her seventeen year old peers. Her sides had symmetry, with sexy love handles spilling over her shorts. Through Alice's influence, she began to wear shirts that exposed her midriff, and short shorts. Amazingly, she attracted more guys than she had when she had a waif-like figure a year ago. She attended school, and lived a happy life.

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Martina attempted to come back to tennis in the year 2000. She was ranked number 265 out of 270. The woman she played was an incredible world contender. Martina, at the weight of 235 pounds, actually beat the woman in straight sets. However, two games later, she ripped a skirt in the middle of a match. The embarrassment drove her from the match she was winning 6-0, 6-0, 3-0. Martina never got on a court again, but she did found a school for overweight tennis girls to hone their skills and beat the odds of a cruel society. Her school discovered the next ten Wimbeldon Women's winners, from the years 2002-2011.