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The Sculptor
by TR


Andrea was beautiful, I'll give you that. And she had a beautiful body, with such wonderful curves that even an FA like myself had to admire it, in spite of her being quite slim. And she had a quick intelligence, and a good sense of humor...

But she had the integrity of a snake. When she approached me at a party one evening, I wasn't the least bit interested. She'd gone through too many of my friends--I knew what a flighty, insincere heartbreaker she was.

"But why don't you like me?" she asked, astonished that anyone would turn her down.

"I know you a little too well," I said,"your hobby is getting guys to fall in love with you, then dumping them. It's not the kind of experience I'm interested in."

"Well, I'm not asking you to fall in love with me..."

"What are you asking?"

"I don't know...I just thought it might be fun if we...got together sometime. I've heard stories about your...abilities..."

"Forget it. Besides, you're not my type."

"Not your type! But you're not gay or anything like that..."

"No. And I'm not into one-night stands anyway."

She shook her head, puzzled.

"I must be losing my touch..."


I used to believe the standard thing: you know, you fall in love with a guy, move in with him, maybe marry him, and live happily ever after. But I can never make that work. I'll go with a guy for two or three weeks and have a great time--but then he always gets these expectations I find it really difficult to fulfill. Like I'll want to go dancing, but he wants me to have dinner with his boring parents, or he'll want to fool around when I want to be by myself, or vice-versa...and the guy increasingly becomes a pain in the butt. But at the same time, I'm not into purely physical one-night-stand types of things either. So I end up going with guys for a while, acting like it's the love of a lifetime, and then dumping them. Once I decide to dump a guy, I try to be as awful as possible--it's easier for them if they decide you're a complete bitch. I've gotten pretty good at it, though you have to be careful--some guys can really freak out on you. And of course, it doesn't do much for your reputation...

I'd never thought a lot about Ray--he was good-looking enough, but he seemed like too serious a guy for me. In fact I was surprised to hear he was a really good sculptor--he didn't fit my image of a sculptor. Then one time I talked to Sharon, who was going with him. She said he was the best lover she ever had, without question. That naturally piqued my curiousity--so when I heard they'd broken up, I started thinking about maybe going after him. Then a few days ago I ran into Ray at a party. I went into heavy flirtation mode. I was astonished by his reaction--he hated me! I guess I should have expected this sort of thing would happen, running through men the way I do--but I was still surprised. Men usually find me impossible to resist.

Then today I ran into Sharon downtown. I took her to a café and bought her a cup of coffee.

"What's the story with you and Ray?" I asked her.

"We broke up," she said simply.

"But why? I thought he was the best lover in the world."

"Oh, he is. But he likes fat girls. I gained twenty pounds while I lived with him. And it's impossible to diet with him around."

"Why? Does he force-feed you or something?"

"Oh no, he's quite decent about it--he said my weight was my own business, and if I wanted to diet, he'd support me all the way. But of course I knew he would have preferred that I gain weight. Now, it's really hard for me to diet anyway--but living with a guy like that, it was impossible. Anytime I felt like going off my diet, he was really happy to take me out to eat, or go get me something to eat, and then he'd get really amorous afterward...it was just too tempting. I had to leave him, or I'd end up really immense. Not that I didn't consider that."

"What? Becoming really immense?"

"Sure. It would almost be worth it...you get to eat all you want, and have a great guy for a boyfriend...but I just couldn't stand getting fat. My mother and my sister were giving me a really hard time, and I just started feeling awful about myself. Not that I feel that great now, even though I am taking off the weight..."

"Wow," I said,"no wonder he said I wasn't his type."

"You mean you made a play for him?"

"Well, sort of...I'd heard you two had broken up, so--"

"No, it's all right. He's fair game. But you're really too skinny for him. What do you weigh, anyway?"


"I weighed one-thirty-five when we first went out--and I was too skinny for him."

"Is that what he said?"

"Oh, no. He just told me he I'd look great if I put on a few pounds, and I wanted to please him, so I just started eating a lot, without even really thinking about the consequences. He loved it so much that I kept doing it, and before I knew it, hardly any of my clothes fit and I had a pot-belly."

So of course I'm putting Ray out of my mind now. No guy is worth getting fat for! Especially for the kind of two-week relationship I always seem to get into.


Thank God I'm starting to get Sharon off my mind. I actually got some work done today--finished a sculpture I'd been diddling with for weeks, and made some progress on a new one. Next time I get involved with a woman, she's going to be fat to start with, with no intention of dieting. That way I won't want to fatten her up. Or if I do get involved with someone thinner than that, I won't even tell her about my preferences...


I went to a Reina's wedding reception the other day--Ray was there. I suddenly realized I was still interested in him! It was really annoying--I told myself not to think about him, it was a lost cause...then I thought of a way to have some fun. There was an incredible buffet there, with large amounts of food, a lot of it very fattening. I heaped up my plate and went and sat down near Ray. I tried to chat with him, but he was very cold to me. So I just ate, went to the bathroom and threw everything up, like the bulemics do, then loaded up another plate and sat down by Ray again. Then I did this again, this time coming back with a plateful of food and an enormous piece of wedding cake.

"Can you believe this appetite of mine?" I said to him casually,"this food is so good, I just can't stop eating."

"Do you usually eat this much?" he asked. I could tell I'd aroused his curiousity, at least.

"No," I said,"though I've been eating more this last week. I've decided I'm really a bit too thin--what do you think?"

"I think," he said,"you are trying to be a cock-teaser." And he got up and left.

I was furious...I mean, he was right, of course, I was being a cock-teaser, but it made me furious anyway. I had to think of a way to get back at him.


That Andrea is unbelieveable. Today I was out working in the backyard, as usual, when she let herself in. She was dressed in a beach robe (not that unusual, since the beach is only a block away).

"Nice sculpture," she said,"what is it? A whale?"

"What are you doing here?" I said.

"I was rather upset yesterday, when you called me a cock-teaser. I called up Sharon to see if she could help me figure out what you were talking about. Apparently you thought I was pretending I intended to gain weight--which would turn you on. Is that right?"

"Pretty much," I said,"except for the part about you having to call up Sharon. I happen to know you talked to her last week. So you already knew about my--preferences."

She actually blushed at this.

"Okay," she said,"I was ostentatiously overeating in front of you. But I wasn't being a cock-teaser. I was trying to seduce you."

"I guess I'm using 'cock-teaser' in an unconventional way," I said, "It usually refers to someone who pretends to want sex and doesn't--I'm not accusing you of that. I think you were pretending you were going to gain weight but you aren't. To me, that's cock-teasing."

"...I see what you mean. But you're still wrong. I am going to gain weight."

"Just to seduce me!?"

"I know it's strange," she said,"but I've got this crush on you...so if getting fat is what it takes, I'll do it."

"Sure, and monkeys might fly out of my butt."

"I suppose I deserve this," she said,"but I'm telling the truth. Look."

She took off her beach robe. She was wearing a bikini underneath. There was very little fat on her--her ribs were plainly visible over her concave belly.

"Come on," I said,"you've haven't gained any weight to speak of."

"Not yet," she said,"But I will. I want you to remember how my body looks now, so when I start gaining weight it will be apparent."

"This is ridiculous. How could you possibly be serious? Why would you want to gain weight for a guy who doesn't even like you? I wouldn't be interested in you anyway--I don't have a problem with your weight. It's your personality."

That did seem to get to her. She was quite taken aback by that.

"I...I think you do like me," she said finally, her eyes a bit teary, "You're just in denial. And I guess I don't blame you. But could you be just a little less awful? Just give me the benefit of the doubt, until I don't gain any weight and prove that I must just be a cock-teaser."

"I'd give you the benefit of the doubt if there was any."

She put her robe back on and left angrily. I sure hope I got rid of her for good this time.


Okay, time to give up on this jerk. It's not working--he sees through my bullshit...but the trouble is, if I give up, he'll know it's bullshit...I thought maybe I'd gain a few pounds, just enough for him to believe me, but now I don't think he'll believe me unless I really get fat. So it's time to say "forget it". Really. Forget it, Andrea!

But the thing is, I really do think he likes me...


So this crazy Andrea shows up today carrying a knapsack, and asks if she can watch me work.

"If you're quiet," I say reluctantly. I should have said no, but I would have felt too mean.

She sat on the bench there, watched me work, opens up her knapsack and pulls out a cheeseburger, a chocolate shake, a sack of french fries and piece of banana cream pie. She spends the next half-hour eating and watching me work, then leaves without saying a word.


Three days ago I finally gave up. I mean I really gave up. I'd been going over there and stuffing myself every other day for a week, and there was no reaction from him. And I always got so full I felt sick, and would hardly eat anything the following day. I kept gaining a pound or two, then losing it. I really started feeling silly--how was he ever going to believe I was going to get fat if I couldn't even gain five pounds? True, he did relax a little bit, and even chatted with me nicely a couple of times--but he still thought I was ridiculous.

So I went back to eating normally again...until yesterday I went to a party at Marjanne's house, where there was a terrific buffet--and suddenly my appetite cut loose. I actually missed eating all that fattening stuff! I couldn't believe how much I ate! Over a dozen hors d'oeuvres, four large pieces of ham, three helpings of potato salad, four Brandy Alexanders, two pieces of fried chicken, two pieces of cheesecake, chocolate cake à la mode, and I don't know how many cookies. I couldn't believe it. I felt kind of sick, but I didn't really care--it was fun.

But today I don't even want to think about food! Yesterday was just a weird anomaly I guess.


Thank God that Andrea quit coming over. I'm really getting a lot more work done.

Though it's funny, I kind of miss her...


It happened again! The day after Marjanne's party, I didn't eat much, but the next day when I went to the supermarket, suddenly everything looked good. I filled my shopping cart with frozen pizza, ice cream, cookies, fried chicken, frozen burritos, potato chips, Ho-hos, Dove bars, microwave lasagna, milk, and a couple of enormous steaks.

Then I went home and went on a three-day eating binge. I just love overeating! If I lie on the couch watching TV I can nibble almost constantly all day. I finally ran out of food last night at eleven-thirty. My belly was swollen up like a balloon! I'd never seen it so big.

I woke up at noon today, went to the bathroom, took a shower, then examined my belly again.

It was completely flat.

"Shit!" I said,"I can't stand it!"

But then I weighed myself--I'd gained five pounds!


I couldn't believe it when Andrea showed up yesterday with her little knapsack.

"I thought you'd given up," I said.

"I did," she said, opening up her knapsack, "but as soon as I stopped force-feeding myself, I discovered something."


"I really like eating like this."

She pulled out two milkshakes, a cheeseburger, a burrito, an order of fries, and a chocolate éclair and started eating.

"You're not going to pull that bulemia trick on me again, are you? (She'd confessed a week ago that her incredible eating feat at the wedding was accomplished by vomiting).

"What would be the point?" she asked,"you're not going to believe me until I actually gain weight."

"You haven't gained any weight yet?"

"Not much. But I will."

"But why do you come here and eat? Why not just go somewhere else and come back when you're fat?"

She took such a long sip of her milkshake that I thought she wasn't going to answer, but finally she said: "If I tell you, you'll make fun of me and make me feel ridiculous. And I feel ridiculous enough as it is. I might tell you if you ever start acting nice. Then I might feel comfortable enough to tell you."

"I'd be nicer," I said,"but I really don't want to encourage you."

"I know," she said,"you're basically a really nice guy. I think you'll be nice to me when you realize what I'm really like."

I almost find myself believing her...but it's too crazy. Of course it's crazy anyway, even if I don't believe her--why would she go to all this trouble just to cock-tease me? People only act this crazy if they really are crazy...or if they're in love. And she doesn't seem mentally ill.

And not only did she eat a lot, and not only was it very fattening, and not only did she really seem to enjoy it (she'd certainly been faking it before), but she came back today and ate even more. I wish she would take off that beach robe and let me check her out again...I'd ask her, but I don't want to give her the satisfaction.


Yesterday made four days in a row that I've eaten at Ray's--and my appetite's better than ever! And he's so cute to watch--he keeps trying to act indifferent, but keeps slipping up and being nice. And once and I while I'll look up and find him staring at me in obvious fascination. I've now gained about twenty pounds. I'm not even overweight yet, let alone fat, but at least I'm not underweight anymore, and it's obvious that I'm filling out. I saw Sharon today. She takes one look and goes: "Whoa! You really are going after Ray, aren't you?" But I always wear a baggy jump suit or a long beach robe when I go to Ray's, so it's hard for him to tell.

This morning, I glanced at myself in the mirror...I'm really gaining weight!

I mean, I'm not fat or anything, I'm just...fleshier. If I suck in my tummy, it's pretty flat, but if I don't, there's an undeniable pudginess to it. And my clothes--forget it. There are a couple of pair of stretch pants I can still get into, and a few blouses that were always too big, but other than that, it's hopeless. At home I just lounge around in my panties (I broke down and bought a larger size) and a t-shirt that used to fit me just fine. Now it tends to ride up over my hips and lets a bit of my tummy peek out the bottom. It's also very tight around my breasts. I kind of like watching it get tighter as I get plumper. But looking in the mirror today was still kind of alarming.

"Jesus," I thought,"do I really want to do this?"

But then I thought about how Ray would react and felt better about it. And then I thought about the Belgian waffles covered with butter, blueberries and whipped cream that I was going to have for breakfast, and felt better still. And as soon as I started eating, my qualms disappeared entirely.


Andrea is really getting to me. Today she had lunch in my backyard for the seventh day in a row, and she ate more than ever. It's hard to tell how much she's gained, since she always wears baggy clothes, but they aren't as baggy as they used to be. And her face is filling out a bit too--she can't hide that.

Yesterday, as an experiment, she had the same lunch as she had the first time: a milkshake, a cheeseburger, and order of fries and a piece of pie.

"This is unbelieveable," she said,"the first time I had that, I was so stuffed I could hardly walk--now I feel like I just had an appetizer...would you do me a favor?"


"Go get me the same thing again?"

"Why would I want to do that?"

"I walked over--and while I've still got plenty of room, I've eaten enough that I don't feel like walking all the way over to Grossburger's and back again. But I'm sure you wouldn't mind. And you want me to get fat, don't you?"

"Why do you think that?"

"Well, either you're interested in me, even though you won't admit it, and want me to get fat for erotic reasons, or you want to get rid of me, which you won't be able to do until I get fat and still get rejected by you--at which point I'll have to give up."

"Manipulative bitch," I thought,"she knows there's nothing I'd rather do than see her continue the experiment and see how much she can eat."

So I went to Grossburger's and got another one of everything. She finished every bite.

"Full yet?" I asked sarcastically.

"Yes," she said,"but since I'm trying for a record, would you mind getting the same again?"

I didn't even bother grumbling this time. She ate another burger with a shake, about half the fries, and a bite of pie. Then she winced and clasped her belly, which now bulged plainly, even under the baggy jump suit.

"Ohh..." she said,"I think I overdid it...could you give me a ride home?"

But she was fine today. I took a good look at her.

"You really are putting on weight," I told her.

"Of course I am," she said, laughing,"Haven't you noticed how much I've been eating?"

"Well, yes..."

"So why wouldn't I put on weight?"

"Well, of course it stands to reason," I said,"but I didn't think you'd go this far. How much have you gained?"

"Not that much," she said, starting on another immense lunch.


I skipped having lunch at Ray's the day before yesterday, and had Sharon over. I modeled my bikini for her.

"This is getting tight," I said,"I could hardly get it on."

"I believe it," she said,"I think you're fatter than me now."

"Come on," I said,"I've only gained about twenty-five pounds."

"But I've lost weight."

So we weighed ourselves--sure enough, I was up to one-thirty-seven! She was down to one-thirty three.

"Told you," she said,"anyway, Ray must be getting interested in you by now. Are you getting anywhere?"

"He's very interested, but he's still trying to pretend he isn't. I'm trying to decide how much more I should gain before I might my final all-out effort."

By this time we'd started on lunch--pizza, salad, french fries and chocolate shakes. Or rather I'd started--Sharon was just having a salad and a glass of water.

"How much weight do you want to gain, Andrea?" she asked me after a while.

"Well...you were up to what, one-fifty-five when you started dieting?"

"More than that, maybe one-sixty. I don't know--I stopped weighing myself for a while there."

"And Ray wanted you to gain more weight, even then?"

"Well, he didn't try to get me to, but I know he would have liked it."

"So I should get up to at least that much."

"But is it really worth it? If you don't mind my saying, your relationships never seem to last that long anyway..."

"I think this is different. I never really made any kind of a sacrifice for a relationship before--I was too selfish. And I kind of admire Ray for spurning me, even though he liked me--because I'd been so awful to his friends. I think he's really a fine man, and if I earn his love, it'll work for a change."

Of course Sharon was watching me scarf pizza and fries all this time.

"I don't know," she said, smiling,"it doesn't seem to be a very difficult sacrifice."

I laughed,"That's true. I'm really getting into this eating thing. I never knew it could be so fun."

Sharon looked wistfully at all the fattening things on the table.

"Don't remind me!"


Andrea showed up today, after a week-long hiatus.

"Where've you been?" I asked.

"At home. Eating lots and lots of fattening food."

Instead of going over to the bench to eat she just stood in front of me smiling. She was still wearing her unrevealing beach robe, but I could tell she'd gained more weight.

"So, are you putting on weight?" I asked finally.

"Yes, of course. Wanna see?"

She made as if to open her beach robe, and then paused, waiting for my answer.

"Well, yes," I said, unable to resist.

And with that, she took off her beach robe and stood there in her bikini. She was exquisitely plump--with a small but indisputable pot-belly, curvy little love-handles, and nicely filled-out legs. Her breasts had been clearly enhanced by her weight gain--they hadn't been bad before, but now they had a pleasant fullness to them that was positively hypnotizing.

"Okay," I said,"I admit, you weren't bluffing. You look fantastic--but you're still you."

"But I've changed..." she said,"remember you said you'd give me the benefit of the doubt if there was any? Well you must have some doubt now, since you were wrong before."

It was incredibly tempting. But I still hesitated.

"Oh come on," she said impatiently, "here I've gained forty pounds just to make you happy...and just think, you can fatten me up even more if you want..."

"Really?" I gasped, my defenses crumbling.

"Sure. Oh my goodness...is that a banana or are you glad to see me?"

Fascinated, she touched the bulge formed in my pants by my achingly-hard erection.

"Wow," she said softly,"I guess at least part of you is interested..."

She drew closer. Her soft round tummy was the same height as my crotch, and now she rubbed it against me and looked up at me inquisitively. My last ounce of restraint was completely overcome...I started kissing her passionately.

She spent the night with me. The next morning I woke up before she did and made breakfast for her--coffee, orange juice, waffles, cheese omelette, bacon and home fries.

"Jesus!" she said when I served her all this in bed,"you cook, too?"

She started in hungrily.

"Now I know why my other relationships never lasted," she said after a while,"I was waiting to meet you. You're not only the best lover I've ever had, but the nicest guy, and the best cook."

"Well, I have to admit I have ulterior motives for feeding you like this."

"That's all right. I have ulterior motives for eating like this."

She finished every bite and patted her swollen belly, the sight of which put me in an amorous mood, despite all the love-making we'd done the previous night.

"Wow," she said,"you're ready to go again? I guess my ulterior motives knew what they were doing."

After making love again she got up, got dressed, wandered into the kitchen and found a doughnut to nibble on.

"Hungry again?"

"Sex has that effect on me," she said, taking a big bite.

"Let's see--sex makes you hungry, which makes you eat, which makes me amorous, resulting in sex, which makes you hungry..."

"I haff a feeving--" she paused, realizing her mouth was full. She gave me an embarrassed smile as she swallowed the remainder of the the doughnut.

"I have a feeling," she continued,"I'm going end up awfully fat."

"Is that okay with you?"

"Obviously. I think it's what I've always wanted. I only just realized it lately." She started to look in the refrigerator then paused and looked at me, "but you have to marry me, you know."


"And," she added with a frown, as she looked in the fridge,"you have to go grocery shopping."