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Old 06-04-2012, 10:41 PM   #101
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Originally Posted by dev111 View Post
This is an awesome story. Takes a while to get going but its well written and Kelly is hot More!
Thanks, dev. More to come, if I can ever get over a particular hurdle.
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Old 06-06-2012, 03:27 PM   #102
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"knocks aside hurdle."
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Old 06-11-2012, 06:43 PM   #103
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Default Some housekeeping

Oops. I've been writing a story that you haven't been reading. That is, for a while now Kelly has been three pounds heavier in my mind--I just forgot to write that weigh-in in!

So, here it is. Insert this at the appropriate point of post #85, toward the end of the-longest-day-in-Dimensions-Library-history:

(Insert moved tp post # 85 as requested - ed. )

Thank you. Please continue with your reading lives.

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Old 06-16-2012, 01:33 AM   #104
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Default Kelly in Control

Kelly didn’t get back home until five Sunday evening. Caleb would be there at six. She hadn’t had much sleep—uninterrupted sleep, that is—all weekend. She felt tired, but she felt strong: she realized how much of a difference it made that alcohol had hardly been a part of her weekend.

Gail couldn’t say the same. Kelly found her crashed on the couch when she came home, sticky remnants of blended drinks splashed on all the counters, empty liquor bottles in the trash, and evidence of more baked goods than anyone could possibly eat.

Kelly stopped to watch her heavy breathing expanding her midriff, which lay round and exposed on the couch due to her unbuttoned pants and clearly too-tight tee. With her head leaned back, the flesh around Gail’s chin filled out her face to accentuate how fat she had really become, and the girth of her upper arms pressed heavily against the couch cushions was startling. There was drunk, and then there was humiliating. Gail wouldn’t want Caleb seeing her like this.

It took a lot of time and effort to rouse Gail. She finally awoke in an unintelligible stammer. Kelly heaved her up with a gasp and held the half-conscious girl on her hip, half-carrying, half-dragging Gail into her bedroom. Kelly, breathing heavily, dropped her onto the bed senseless, then bent over to lift her legs onto the bed. Even Gail’s legs were heavy, and she groaned as she pushed them up and over the edge of the bed. She wasn’t sure if Gail was that heavy, or if she was just out of shape.

I gotta get back to the gym, Kelly thought, looking around and blowing wind heavily. That made her think of the scale in the bathroom, and once again she just had to know. Kelly tossed off her shoes and shed her clothes as she strode over to the bathroom, breasts bouncing and—she suddenly noted—hips jiggling. She pulled the scale out form the wall with her toes, waited for it to zero, closed her eyes, stepped on, waited and looked down.

Of course, all she could see was the crest of her expansive breasts. She stepped back and bent over to see the number.

173.0.

Kelly let go of the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Her heart was beating in exultation: Finally some relief!

Kelly bounced back into the bedroom and dressed, then set about clearing the living room table and straightening up the kitchen in preparation for study with Caleb. She pushed aside uncooked batter, nibbled on cookies in various states of cooked, and wiped up splashes, spills and crumbs, but the only thing running through her mind was 173! 173! 173!

The (slightly) lower number made her summer’s efforts seem all the more fulfilling, as bringing her weight back down when it was all over suddenly seemed like a real possibility. She was cleaning and whistling a half-hour later when Caleb walked in.

“Where’s the pizza?” He looked shocked.

Kelly just smiled. For once she’d forgotten to order it.

(Continued in post 106 of this thread)

Last edited by Britt Reid; 08-27-2012 at 12:07 PM.
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Old 06-16-2012, 12:14 PM   #105
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Interesting piece, always happy to see it
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Old 07-02-2012, 06:05 PM   #106
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Default Working out

Later that evening, a confident Kelly had just about been ready to call it an early night when her phone rang. She jumped at the sound, eagerly expecting to see Wade’s name, but it wasn’t him. She gave Caleb the twiddly-fingered wave and a head nod to the door as she answered.

“Mommy!” the still-excited Kelly exclaimed. Caleb took the cue, rubbed his fingers together in the universal gesture that means “I expect you to pay me soon,” then unceremoniously grabbed his things (for him, a folder and a pencil) and was gone.

“Hey, Baby. Didn’t think you’d answer. Thought you’d either be studying with Caleb or talking with your beau.”

“If I could do both at the same time, I would! But you caught me right in between the two.”

“I just needed to ask real quick what the plan was for the Fall. Do you expect to be over at the Phi Gamma house?”

The practicality of the question had Kelly momentarily speechless. Do I? Her heart said yes, as if a flashing 173.0 all of a sudden magically capped a successful summer. The real question was just why her mother had called to ask. If she was merely trying to prognosticate whether her daughter would fail or not, she would have asked straight out.

“It’s just that it’s about time to write that check to the House, and I need to know,” Mrs. Kingsley continued. “Or rather, your father needs to know.”

Ohhhhhh. That was why. As far as Kelly knew, Mr. Kingsley—who hadn’t returned an admittedly infrequent daughterly call all summer—was completely oblivious that his only daughter was on the verge of failing out of college.

Well, he wasn’t about to learn that now, either. As far as Kelly was concerned, he never needed to know.

“I’m pretty sure it’s gonna happen, Mommy.”

“I know it will, Baby.”

“Really, Mom. You can tell him to go ahead and send the check.”

Ms. Kingsley paused. That’s odd.

“I already have, Honey. Several times. I just” –pause—“it just doesn’t seem to be getting through to him. You know how distracted he can be when he’s in New York. But you’re his fully grown daughter now, and I just think it would be better if you called and asked him yourself, you know?”

“Mom, is there something wrong?”

“No, Baby. Everything’s fine. I didn’t even expect you to pick up. I was just gonna leave you a message.”

Kelly always picked up when her mother called. Always.

“I really think he’d appreciate the reminder directly from you.”

With that, Kelly agreed, and soon the two were lost in discussions about Wade Bode, Fall Sorority Rush, and Kelly’s plans to come home in between.

“I can’t wait to see you!” Kelly exclaimed at one point.

“Me, too, Baby. But right now I’m thinking you’re wasting a lot of time talking to your mother when you should be talking to someone else.”

Kelly looked at the microwave clock: 10:30. Too late to call, but not too late to text. They said their goodbyes, and Kelly texted Wade a good night message. It wasn’t returned, but she saw on her phone he’d already wished her good night on her facebook wall. Publicly. Absolutely everything was working out.

(Continued in post 108 of this thread)

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Old 07-07-2012, 05:41 PM   #107
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Another chapter, yes!!!
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Old 07-16-2012, 11:13 AM   #108
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Default Screeching halt

“I’m a little worried this isn’t gonna work out for you, Kelly,” Lierman said Friday afternoon. And with those words a wonderful week came to a screeching halt.

Kelly’s father never did pick up the phone when she called, even after she left a message explaining what it was she needed. Other than that small disappointment, her week had been like one big smile. Monday Caleb had pried out the news that Kelly had a new beau, and from that point studying the sines, cosines, and angles had taken a backseat to Caleb’s prying questions: how’d you meet him? Where? Had they done it?

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kelly teased unconvincingly.

“You have! I knew it!”

“You seem entirely too interested in who I’m dating, Caleb.”

For once, Caleb hadn’t had a response.

It had seemed to Kelly that she’d buckled down on her studies all week, but looking back she realized that she hadn’t given much effort at all. At some points during the week, pre-algebra study had started to look more like the “study hall” she used to frequent two nights a week at Phi Gamma—study filled with laughing and gossip, laughing and food. The only thing missing was the fashion magazines. Gail had begun sitting in, sipping on margaritas until she was just about as blended as her drinks. Each night it seemed they knocked off earlier, and Kelly would leave Caleb and Gail to talk while she had long phone calls with Wade.

It was all about Wade. Between classes she was texting about Wade. In Home Ec she’d all but given up trying to learn by watching her lab mates and fantasized in her mind about Wade. All week long she’d all-but-foregone her classroom snacks and been proud of it, weighing in at 172 just that morning. She’d been thinking that finally seeing hope at the end of the line was helping her overcome her bored distraction with self-discipline. Now, she realized, she’d just been fantasizing about Wade. Texting Wade. Doodling about Wade. Wade, Wade, Wade. Before, she’d been fattened by food. Now, she was infatuated with a boy.

Kelly had walked out of her test Thursday night confident it was a solid B. When she stopped by Lierman’s office Friday morning to find out for sure, she was confident it was a solid B.

It was a 73. As much as a number had lifted her spirits earlier that week, this number crushed it.

“I know,” Lierman had said, seeing her face. “I was disappointed, too. Look. My final’s optional. You still can take the final and replace your grade. And then,” he said hopefully, “maybe after that we’ll see what we can do.”

(Continued in post 110 of this thread)

Last edited by Britt Reid; 08-27-2012 at 12:11 PM.
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Old 07-20-2012, 08:40 PM   #109
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great new piece!!
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Old 07-23-2012, 11:33 PM   #110
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Default Pow wow.

Two hours later, Kelly, Caleb and Gail were sitting around the table. Kelly was just biting into her third piece of triple meat pizza from Dominos, which had arrived no more than five minutes ago. This was after her stop at the McDonald’s drive-thru on the way home. She’d demolished the (no longer so-named) supersize Quarter Pounder meal and large McCafe mocha frappe almost before she’d arrived home.

Caleb—whom Kelly had summoned to the home on a Friday with the promise of double his usual hourly rate—and Gail—what she got out of it, Kelly had no clue—were each hunched over a frosty mug of beer discussing what Lierman meant.

“It’s obvious,” Caleb said. “He wants you to give him what he’s been after this whole time. Geeze, Kelly,” he stopped, as Kelly was already finishing up that third slice of pizza. “You gonna stop to breathe?”

“Why should I?” Kelly asked, her mouth full, then taking another bite. “You seem to think my grade depends on my getting fatter anyway.”

A week of dreaming thin, and now she didn’t even care. Without Phi Gamma on the table, it hardly mattered. Mom got fat after Phi Gamma, she thought. And she married a handsome rich guy!

“Of course why he wouldn’t go after me instead of a girl who’s already a fatty”—she nodded at Gail as she finished off the crust—“who can figure?”

Gail and Caleb just sat taken aback. A second later Kelly realized what she’d said.

I did it again! When did I start getting so mean? “Oh, Gail. I didn’t mean—I mean, I shouldn’t have said—“

“Nono,” Gail said, her hand waving it off but her face showing something quite different, ”point taken.”

She took a swig of her beer and looked aside.

“Gail, I’m sorry. I’m upset. I—“

“Forget it, Kelly. It’s not a federal case. I’m just not the one sitting here making a pig of myself. Or an ass,” she added, downing the last third of her glass in one swig. She went to the fridge and opened another bottle.

“I deserve that,” Kelly said meekly. She still felt hungry and started eyeing another piece of pizza. No one else had even touched one.

“Pigs and asses aside,” Caleb interjected, “the man clearly wants you to sleep with him. This has squat to do with learning math. Did he even offer to start tutoring you again?”

“No. He knows I can’t fit it in my schedule.”

“Nonsense. He wants a pig, and he wants ass. Lucky for him, he found both in you.”

Screrw you, Caleb!

That was Gail, not Kelly, who was clearly too hurt to speak.

“There’s just some things you just shouldn’t say no matter how clever you think they are! Crap!”

For once, Caleb looked chastened. But he didn’t apologize either.

“Someone here needs a sense of humor,” he retorted, but all the usual brashness from his voice was gone. “And perspective. We’re talking about a sorority, after all.”

“We’re talking about my dream,” Kelly murmured. She grabbed that fourth slice of pizza.

“I don’t care,” Gail raged, “if we’re talking about a trip to the movies, Caleb! You will never, ever talk to my friends that way again. Understand?” Gail stood behind Kelly and rubbed her shoulder with her free hand. Kelly wanted to cry. She didn’t know if it was the situation, Caleb, or because Gail had just called her a friend.

Gail gave a huge sigh and sat down heavily at the table, but not before she topped off Caleb’s beer from the bottle in her hand. Then, she joined Kelly by grabbing a piece of pizza. Kelly realized she was watching a pro at conflict, diplomacy, and using them both to make friends.

“Give it to me straight, Gail,” Kelly asked, ignoring Caleb for the moment. “You said you thought Lierman was a straight arrow. Caleb says he’s not. Do you think he’s right?”

Gail paused. “The more I learn? I’m afraid he is, girl. He pretty much always is. That’s why he thinks he can be such an ass and get away with it.”

She gave him a sideways glare.

“Would you sleep with Lierman to get an A?” Kelly asked her.

Gail sighed again and sat back, took a pull from her bottle to buy time. “Knowing how big a deal this is to you? I’d have to say yes. Not saying I wouldn’t regret it, but I think I would if it were the only way. The question is, would you?”

Kelly thought for a minute. She looked long and hard at Caleb.

“I don’t know. But I think he’s wrong. I’m not gonna be cynical like him. I think Lierman just wants to help me.”

Caleb rolled his eyes, crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath.

Gail smiled wanly, as if to say, “Aren’t you sweet!” But also, “Good for you.”

“I’m gonna—“

Right then, Kelly’s phone went off: a text message. From her father: “Tell me how much, when, where, will deposit.”

No, “I love you,” either, like usual. It always disappointed her, but never surprised her.

Just the facts, just the money. That’s Daddy. Love, measured in dollar signs. But money was just what she needed right now.

She texted back an amount, followed with “Now. Love you, Daddy! Thanks!” That’d cover what she needed in sorority dues and expenses until the Fall semester started.

“You’re gonna what?” Gail asked.

“I’m gonna give it my best shot. Caleb, I need you.”

Caleb smiled mischievously. “I always knew you did. Um, it pays, right?”

(Continued in post 112 of this thread)

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Old 07-25-2012, 05:41 AM   #111
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another piece, this story is taking positive turns!! Really excited for the next installment
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Old 08-10-2012, 12:38 AM   #112
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Default Back in the Saddle

It all-but-killed Kelly to cancel her long-awaited (all week!) Friday night rendezvous with Wade, but they immediately set to work. Kelly told herself if she saw Wade that night she’d likely lose the whole weekend of study time. Closer to the truth was that Kelly had stuffed herself silly in her distress, and she found herself too embarrassed to face him.

And too sick. For all her caloric abandon this summer, it hadn’t been a summer of bingeing. Well, not counting alcohol. Food truly had been the rewarding distraction she’d needed to muster the colossal effort she needed to plow through the utter boredom academic study brought her—and in the case of Home Ec, her embarrassment about her inability to apply simple knowledge to such a practical application as, oh, cooking lunch. It hadn’t taken long for her distraction to become, first, a habit, which conditioned her mind and body to grasp ahead to the next food fix. Soon after it became a need, her stomach rumbling in grumpy protest at the indignance of having to wait for its next yummy satisfaction. But filling herself with abandon defeated the point: this summer had been about subsistence and savoring.

Friday evening’s binge, though, had been about desperation. Kelly had binged before, and she knew this for what it was: a punishing combination of emotional eating and pure self-destruction as recrimination for sabotaging her goal with Wade Bode. Seeing him tonight would just make it that much worse. Truth was, she felt she deserved to be stuck with both the pain and the pre-algebra.

Fortunately for Kelly, her pre-algebra final was the last one before they shut the place down ahead of the fall semester. Tuesday at noon: that gave her eleven days to make the magic happen. It also meant that she could still manage to spare time for a dinner date with Wade on Saturday night. But just dinner. She couldn’t risk another night alone with Wade turning into another weekend alone with Wade.

Saturday night they were sitting together at the Silver Stable, that legendary buffet where Wade could get all-the-steak-he-desired. He was on his third sirloin. Kelly had hardly started her first.

“For someone who says she can’t stop eating all the time, you sure don’t ever seem to eat.”

Kelly gave a wan grin. Around you, maybe. It was starting to occur to her that Wade Bode wasn’t always the most tactful of gentlemen.

“Because I’ve been around hungry girls at the buffet,” he was saying, “and trust me, this isn’t what it looks like.” He smiled with a half-full grin and pointed his fork at Kelly’s lightly nibbled steak and half-eaten dollop of mac-n-cheese.

Truth was, she wasn’t hungry. Well, actually she was: for him. And that left her frustrated. But she knew if she told Wade what she wanted, her weekend would be history instead of pre-algebra. Every time Kelly looked at her plate she’d think about riding—figuratively, of course—in Wade’s truck again. The thought would first stimulate her, then make her angry. The thought of eating made her doubly so. Not because she didn’t want to eat. Because she did.

Kelly had always been turned off by even the thought of a buffet. Gaggles of people, eager to “get their money’s worth,” bellying up to an endless line of serving trays filled with food, piling their plates high, only to force everything down they could before returning for more. The sight of people leaning back in their chairs, loosening belts and unbuttoning shirts, clearly uncomfortable in the aftermath of their mindless greed, ranked toward the top of her nosology of human vices. Stuffing oneself to sickness never struck her as entertainment, and tonight was no different. But tonight, no matter how much she refrained, her judgment kept landing on herself.

Saturday study had begun at ten. Gail, ever supportive, was up well before, preparing pancakes (regular, not spiked), eggs, hash browns, biscuits with butter and jam—the perfect country breakfast. Around noon it was grilled cheese sandwiches with fruit salad, and soon after, brownies with ice cream. About the time Gail started her afternoon cocktails she was serving artichoke dip and tortilla chips. She was seemingly on her feet non-stop, and Kelly, devoted to her study, had mindlessly eaten non-stop with her. Now, at no point had she ever stuffed herself silly. Looking back over the summer, Kelly realized that not once had she ever eaten what she considered an unreasonable portion. But faced with old prejudices, she realized what she’d done over the course of several hours was really no different than what the pathetic people around her were doing right now: busting the buffet, only one comfortable little snack at a time.

And yet, all that in her face, she still wanted to eat. It was driving her crazy. She didn’t know what was making her more crazy: that, or the fact that she was so horny she could barely sit still in her chair.

“Let’s go,” she said, interrupting Wade, who was droning on about something she hadn’t been paying the slightest bit of attention to.

“What? $8.99 and you’ve barely eaten a thing. And, I want some pie.”

“I’m not hungry.” Kelly stood up quickly, felt her breasts bounce weightily as she did. She’d made that manipulative move a dozen times in her chubby high school days, but up until now she’d forgotten it. “You can have pie in the car.”

“You know they don’t let you carry food out, and there’s no pie in the car.”

“There will be when I get there,” Kelly replied, then made a beeline for the exit, swinging her hips just so as she did. She could hear Wade jumping up from the table behind her. Thankfully, from where he was he couldn’t see her face flushed in embarrassment. It was the closest she’d ever come to talking dirty.

(Continued in post 115 of this thread)

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Old 08-10-2012, 08:44 PM   #113
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Default Exquisite

This, bar none, is the best story on this site. Please keep up the good work. With all this bingeing there should be some wonderful bra breaking, button popping in store for all soon. Thanks for all the effort you put into this.
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Old 08-15-2012, 12:08 PM   #114
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Quote:
Originally Posted by bobbyallen69 View Post
This, bar none, is the best story on this site. Please keep up the good work. With all this bingeing there should be some wonderful bra breaking, button popping in store for all soon. Thanks for all the effort you put into this.
Thank you, Bobby. Kelly's got a bit of a roller coaster ride ahead of her yet!
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Old 08-27-2012, 10:17 AM   #115
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Default The Final Panic

As it was, Kelly did make it home before the weekend ended, and, in fact, before the night ended. Well, the morning, anyway. An exhausted Kelly crept back into the house about one a.m.: “crept” because, unexpectedly, all the lights were out. Except for a number of beer bottles lying around the place, there was no evidence Gail had spent the night there at all, which was odd. Kelly had grown accustomed to waking Sunday mornings (or afternoons) to a near disaster area.

Instead, a half-hour before Sunday morning study time was to begin, Kelly awoke to much the same scene she’d witnessed the day before: Gail cooking flapjacks and bacon. This time Gail had a Bloody Mary for company.

As well as Caleb, who was sitting at the table reluctantly sipping one, too.

Thank goodness I came out in my pajamas! That was Kelly’s first thought.

Her second thought was that she might have not spoken too soon: purchased before the second summer session, the buttons of her flannel shirt were stretched to the max across her bosom, even unsupported as it was. And though the elastic of the bottoms scrunched comfortably around her waist, the seam of her flannel bottoms seemed ready to burst. Her thighs were stuffed in the legs tightly, and the cuffs were high-watered so bad they might as well have been capris.

Kelly’s third thought, after pushing the second thought out of her mind, was to wonder if she’d somehow missed Caleb’s car outside the night before. She swore to herself she couldn’t have been so tired she’d missed Caleb’s POS Saab at the curb. She couldn’t help but notice he looked pretty ragged.

“Morning, Sunshine!” Gail quipped, only her bloodshot eyes revealing how she must have felt. She placed a plate in front of Caleb, then another in a spot clearly meant for Kelly, whistling all the while in unmelodious tones. Caleb grunted a muted greeting to Kelly, then dug into his pancakes. Apparently explanations wouldn’t be in the breakfast offings. But Kelly’s stomach rumbled at the smell of warm syrup wafting from her plate, and curious Caleb sightings suddenly took a distant backseat to yummy pancakes.

Uncharacteristically, Gail sat to join them, and it was a half-hour before much more than “Pass the syrup” and “Would you like more pancakes?” crossed anyone’s lips. And from there, it was full steam ahead on studying, Kelly and Caleb pouring over old exam questions while Gail poured herself another and another Bloody Mary. By the time Caleb was pocketing his earnings for the day, Gail was crashed on the couch.

Caleb wordlessly whisked himself out the door, and Kelly’s thoughts drifted to what she would do for dinner without anyone to cook for her. The kitchen was a hopeless mess, and the thought of having to eat anything she cooked was an even larger deterrent. Instead, she rewarded herself for a hard day of study with a call to Dominos.

The next morning Kelly was still feeling industrious and motivated—with the help of a latte and Hostess donuts, of course. The ease with which paying just a little attention in Psychology and Home Ec allowed her to learn the material was always heartening, a reminder that she really did have what it takes to succeed in college despite her horrendous math aptitude.

Her confidence must have given her that extra glow, because at least two guys checked her out in psychology—and all she was wearing was a ponytail, sweatshirt and sweats! (That was because her latest size 10 jeans were already feeling uncomfortably snug again.) One of them (the guys, that is) clearly tried to hang around to say something to her after class, but despite the sense of flattery, it only made her feel that much more sure about Wade. And besides, there was no time for chit-chat: she was gonna have to go out of her way to get the sandwich she was craving between classes. Her rumbling stomach was telling her there was no way she was gonna be able to hold out until Home Ec lab before catching a bite.

She felt so confident that she took the time to sit and eat her sandwich before class (what they didn’t need to know about her appetite was none of their business), so confident that she didn’t feel self-conscious in the slightest when she walked into class late and angled her way into her seat.

Not until Crystal pushed over that sign-up list, that is. The one that said “Kitchen Final Sign-Up Times” at the top.

*********

“Help me, Gail! I’m in trouble!” Kelly was crying into her phone. She’d stepped out into the hall after the lecture portion of class and instantly called Gail.

“What is it this time?” Anyone other than Gail would have sounded annoyed.

What it was was a lab final, worth half her lab grade, in which Kelly would have to prepare a meal all on her own. It was the first she’d heard of it. It wasn’t in the syllabus. From what she’d frenetically gathered from Jenn and Crystal at the break, Lennox had told the class the extent of the assignment the day after Independence Day.

That was the day most professors had decided to give their classes the day off. It was also the day she’d skipped class to spend it with Wade.

“My lab final? It’s a bigger deal than I thought it was!” Kelly told Gail, on the verge of tears. “I have to cook a whole meal all by myself!”

Gail laughed, a musical sound that made it impossible for Kelly’s tears to break through. “You’d better come right home. Oh, and you’ll need to stop by the grocery store and pick up a few things.”

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Old 09-02-2012, 12:52 AM   #116
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“Kelly! No!”

That, of course, was Gail. Kelly and Gail were in, of course, the kitchen. An amazed and bemused Caleb sat smiling at the table. A frustrated Gail had elbowed Kelly to the side and was wiping a hot iron skillet clean as quickly she could with a mass of paper towels.

“You can’t use butter with steak, sweetheart”. Already Gail had regained her patience.

“But my mother puts butter on steak at home and it’s delicious.”

“You put on the butter with a basting brush—one of these—after it’s cooked,” Gail replied, still patiently. “If you try searing that thing in butter, it’ll—“

“—get yucky,” Kelly finished.

“Yup. Why?”

“Because…because…the butter won’t reduce.”

“Because it’ll hit its smoke point before the meat has a chance to carmelize. You brown the butter for the grits. They cook at a lower temperature.”

Kelly face-palmed, as if to say, Of course! Everybody knows that!

Caleb laughed out loud. “It’s Home Economics. You make it sound like some big science project!”

“It is,” Gail answered. “She has to carmelize, coagulate, de-nature, dextrinise and reduce all in one meal of her choice. It’s a big deal.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Do you even know what they are?”

“No.” By his tone, Caleb was clearly indicating he thought the topic beneath him.

“I know what they are,” said, Kelly, flustered. “I just can’t do them! All this attention to math and I’m gonna fail in the kitchen.”

She was hungry, too—she always got crazy hungry while cooking—but everything she’d produced so far had landed in the trash can.

“You’re not gonna fail,” Gail said emphatically. “I’ve never had one fail, and you’re not gonna be the first.”

Here's why. It turned out, Kelly’s news about the cooking test hadn’t been a surprise. (Gail’s words? “How could you not know about that?” Kelly just shrugged, but she felt as if Gail could read the words “Wade” and “Bodie” printed across her forehead.) Gail’s experience in Lennox’s cooking class hadn’t just been a coincidence. It turns out, when Gail pledged Phi Gamma eight years ago, Family and Consumer Sciences 101 had been a Phi Gamma staple—an easy freshman A for exhausted pledges and a lynchpin for Phi Gamma’s now long-abandoned philosophy of all-around female development. But as Gail consolidated her control over each successive Phi Gamma pledge class, most of the image-conscious, career-oriented girls she’d won for Phi Gamma at Rush had cooking skills as bad as or even worse than Kelly’s. So Gail had devised a formula meal that she taught to all of the girls who took the class. A meal she named the Phi Gamma Slamma.

“It’s a classic Southern breakfast,” Gail had told Kelly over the phone. “Steak, eggs (sunny side up), browned butter grits, biscuits and gravy. It’s got everything you need to blow that test out of the water. Seared steak (carmelization), grits with butter (coagulation and reduction), denaturing (egg proteins), and browned (dextrinised) biscuits. The gravy is just to show off. It’s the best gravy you ever had, and it’s a guaranteed A.” Mastery of the five processes was required to pass with a C. Flavor gave you a B. Individual creativity was required for an A.

Kelly’s Home Ec grades were good, but not that good. She had to have that A.

“You’re right,” Kelly said, taking heart from Gail’s confidence. “I’m not gonna be the first to fail. Show me that again.”

Gail laughed good-naturedly. “You sure? We’ve got one steak and just enough butter for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Oo, but I’m hungry now.”

“Exactly,” Caleb interjected. “We’re hungry now. We’ve been waiting over an hour with nothing to show for it. Based on what I’ve seen to this point, we’re gonna end up ordering pizza anyway.”

Kelly would have liked to argue, but she was afraid that—as usual—he was right. Besides, deep dish and lava cakes sounded awfully good. Caleb had already reached for his phone.

The look on Kelly’s face obviously registered with Gail. “Right-O! Pizza it is. I need a drink anyway. We can start off the day with a good breakfast tomorrow.”

That got Kelly thinking ahead to her prospects for tomorrow. She looked at three ruined steaks and two burned pots of grits in the trash can and thought about the possibility of sitting through psychology lecture on an empty stomach.

“Um, Caleb, I’m starving. Could you order an extra Italian Sausage and Pepper?” Cold pizza as back-up in the morning certainly wouldn’t hurt.

**********

Not that it lasted until morning. She ate half again what she usually did--an extra dose of focus, if you will, to help her mind stay on pre-algebra and off of her likely colossal cooking failure. It took a late night to make up for the math time Kelly had consumed with cooking time. But when she finally hit the sheets at 1:00 am, her mind was racing about reductions, carmelization, smoke points, and her very real concerns that she would ruin Gail’s cookware before next week was out.

At 2:00 am she gave up trying to sleep—that, and her growling tummy drew her to the refrigerator like a reverse homing beacon. She polished off the remaining three pieces of pizza and chased it with two beers, and with a full tummy and blurry head her fatigue finally caught up to her.

But 7:30 am came awfully early, and she would have turned back over again had Gail not stormed in after the second snooze alarm with cheerful encouragement. Gail’s version of reveille. That, and ripping away Kelly’s covers.

“Up and at ‘em, Chef Kel—oh, my ...!”

It took a second to realize what Gail was oh-my-xxx-ing, but Kelly was intensely aware that Gail had ripped down her covers. Gail’s astonishment and Kelly’s awareness had the same source.

Kelly was naked.

She ripped the covers back up and over her head while Gail voiced deep–throated laughter. Even though Gail was her friend and already witnessed the goods, Kelly was reflexively embarrassed.

“Sorry there, Kells! Didn’t realize you sleep commando!”

“I don’t usually! I just—I—“

“I saw. You don’t have pajamas that fit. Remind me to find you an old set of mine,” said Gail, turning for the door. “Holy crap, Kelly. No wonder you have athletes lining up at your beck and call! Your funbags are a frickin amusement park!”

Kelly peaked back out from under the covers, then, recognizing the silliness of her modesty, stepped out of bed, feeling her massive breasts wobble heavily to and fro as she did. Other parts were jiggling, too, but she was doing all she could to force that out of her mind this last week.

“Come on, Jugs! Just because linebackers are impressed doesn’t mean Lennox will be. Holy cow…”


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Old 09-08-2012, 12:54 AM   #117
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In the end, a weary Kelly elected just to observe Gail cook breakfast rather than cook it herself. Perhaps another try at culinary failure would have served her better. But, in the end, her desire for a satisfying breakfast took the day.

Kelly gratefully accepted a robe from Gail—yet another gift from her benefactor—to cover her swollen form for the morning. But it didn’t cover over the bitter truth later when she tried to pull up her latest pair of plus-size jeans before heading off to Psychology that morning. The contact of her size 10 jeans with the alien flare at the top of her alien thighs (a first—Kelly had never experienced expansion there before) was much too close for comfort, so she settled for her largest size (Large, as it happened to be) sweats. Up top she had her now-quite-snug letter sweater to cover herself up for class. More like a half-sweater, actually: for the sake of decency, she layered her newest T so it could poke out from underneath.

All-in-all, too-tight sweater, drab sweats, nominal make-up, and tight clothes making her feel bloated beyond belief, Kelly sleepily suffered through psychology class as unattractive as she had ever felt. And yet, sure enough, that same guy—and a couple of others—clearly loitered around at the classroom door for whatever opportunity they could possibly exploit to talk to her.

In the past, Kelly would have indulged the stroke to her ego and taken some time for conversation. Kelly was used to attention because of her boobs, and flirting with admirers she never intended to pursue had long been a relished pastime. Yet today she felt like a spectacle, and the truth was she felt as if even talking to anyone else would risk the loss of the attentions of Wade Bodie.

She walked past the lanky guy in the doorway with no more than a smile, if even that, more conscious of the lack of support her largest pair of sweats gave to her expanded derriere than the reputation her less-than-receptive admonition of an admirer might portend. There was no time for flirting. For Kelly, this next week was all business.

But she felt the eyes as she crossed campus, too, noticing for the first time the shimmer of each rounded ass cheek with each step. It was the same motion she was used to feeling in her chest, which at the moment was bound up in her constricted sweater and support bra. Although she was probably just feeling too self-conscious, she knew some of those eyes would be women’s eyes, disapproving of what they saw.

They should have support bras for asses, Kelly thought. She reconsidered: I guess they do, but I guess in 1873 Levi’s decided the name “jeans” marketed better.

She tried not to make eye contact with anyone and barely spoke to Ja’Cory, the Snack Shack counter man, even though she usually chatted with him daily as she waited for him to fill her Snack Shack order. Eating her lunch was a raging battle between self-consciousness about her bulk and hunger rippling through her stomach.

In the end, her stomach won out. After Home Ec, lab remnants packed as usual in the thermal lunch bag she always brought for just that purpose, Kelly made a call to Caleb’s voicemail: we’re starting an hour late tonight. She left out the phrase, “…so I can go shopping for some new pants.”

***********

It was all coming down to crunch time. Classes ended Thursday. So, Wednesday and Thursday Kelly awoke each morning to make a clumsy, not very encouraging, but admittedly edible effort at Gail’s Phi Gamma Slamma before heading to psychology class. Despite being armed with every conceivable snack, Kelly’s anxiety about Pre-Algebra and Home Ec started to get the best of her ability to pay attention. Her mind was busy trying to review math rules for everything from combining fractions to geometric relationships, as well as memorizing every step of every part of the Phi Gamma Slamma.

In Home Ec her attention was riveted to every step of the lab procedure, and despite feeling awkward, she even took over and let them help her through the recipes. After Wednesday’s lab Kelly stayed after they left, practicing with left-over butter. Thursday she stayed until she was the only student left, practicing some timing with left over bread dough. Finally, Lennox sighed.

“Kelly, you’ve had all semester to figure this stuff out. I don’t think a few extra minutes at this point is gonna help either of us.” Message heard: extra attention would be out of the question. These few extra minutes were as far as Lennox was willing to bend. “You’ll do fine. Good luck Tuesday morning.”

I’ll do fine? Or I’ll need luck? Which is it?

Kelly took her anxiety with her right into Pre-Algebra—although she did take the time to grab some tea and a doughnut on the way. Late to class, she wasn’t brave enough to take her customary seat on the front row (as if Lierman would be impressed by that at this late date anyway), angling her way into a desk a few rows down from the door in the largely empty, stadium seating classroom. She had hoped that reviewing math would help ease her anxiety about her finals, and it did. Except, from the back of the classroom, Lindsey Huntington’s back was a continual reminder of the sorority status at stake should she fail.

On the other hand, in the back of the classroom no one could see her, all the better to anonymously polish off her portion of the products of the day’s lab, along with the extra biscuits she’d made. And that just before the first break. That was why she slipped out for a run to the vending machine right before Lierman called it, the better for Lindsey not to see her.

But Lierman clearly did. After class ended, he waved her down to the front of the room. “Back bencher tonight, eh? Thought you were gonna skip out early on the most important lecture of your summer.”

Kelly thought he was joking but wasn’t sure. She opened her mouth to say something, but he blundered on.

“Just wanted to wish you luck studying. Now, I don’t think that right before the final it would be a good idea to meet with you—that wouldn’t look right. But I know you’ve got Caleb looking after you. Oh, and I was thinking that after all this effort that waiting two weeks for your grade to post would be cruel. Why don’t you meet me in my office after the exam, and I’ll let you know where you stand right away, OK?”

Kelly froze, anxiety and relief flooding through her. Relief, because she’d already thought ahead about the torture of waiting for her grade. Anxiety, because she could almost audibly hear Caleb’s voice in the back of her mind saying, “Meet him alone after the exam? I told you so!”

(Continued in post 118 of this thread)

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Old 09-08-2012, 06:57 AM   #118
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each new piece is a nice addition. I can't wait for the story to come full circle!
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Old 09-18-2012, 10:19 PM   #119
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Compared to everything she’d experienced up to that point, taking her Pre-Algebra final exam was the hardest thing she had ever done. Kelly was pretty well acquainted with that standard, too, because an hour prior she had completed what, to that point, was the hardest thing she had ever done: her Home Ec final lab exam.

Kelly had crammed for exams before, but she had never crammed for anything like she crammed for the Phi Gamma Slamma. Thursday night, she and Gail prepared three portions of browned butter grits before she spent the remainder of the evening studying for her Friday morning Psychology final, cuddled up to some Chinese take-out. (After all, there’s only so much pizza one can tolerate. No, really.)

With the aid of Gail’s phenomenal breakfast of blueberry and brown sugar pancakes before the 10:00 exam—as well as two Dutch Apple Pop Tarts, one cinnamon bun, and a package of powdered sugar Donettes during the exam—Kelly aced a final for the first time in her life.

She was only mildly embarrassed to hand in to her professor an exam flavored with the odd cinnamon-sugar smudge throughout, her newly purchased XL sweatpants and sweatshirt seasoned with dustings of powdered sugar that she couldn’t quite brush off.

If they’d have let me eat during class in high school, she thought as she bounced and skipped her way out of the classroom, just 45 minutes after the exam began, I’d have been class valedictorian!

Kelly’s exultation had been short-lived, as the burdens of Pre-algebra and Home Ec awaited her outside the classroom door. Outside of a celebratory Italian dinner with Wade at Maggiano’s (where profiteroles quickly replaced molten lava cakes as Kelly’s favorite dessert—yum!), Kelly’s weekend consisted entirely of Pre-Algebra and various cooking exercises designed to help Kelly master the Phi Gamma Slamma. Kelly had found a way, however, to work a little more Wade into her weekend. Well, actually it was Gail.

“I think you should have Wade over so you can cook the Phi Gam Slam for him,” Gail mused Saturday afternoon somewhere after her third cocktail. Long bored from listening to Pre-Algebra and regurgitating the same guidance over-and-over to Kelly, Gail had taken to peppering Kelly with question after question about Wade instead. “Kind of an early pressure test in prep for the real thing.”

“Now that’s an idea!” chimed in Caleb, who was as terminally bored as Gail.

“That’s a bad idea,” Kelly huffed. “The best way I can think of to lose my boyfriend.”

“No, that would be if you did his taxes,” chirped Caleb.

“Oh, come on, you’re getting better,” Gail interjected. Caleb gave Gail a wry look. Kelly thought maybe he was joking. After all, today he’d actually eaten it. Still…

“Not that much better! You just want to meet him and give me a hard time.”

Caleb slapped the table and stood up. “I declare here and now, that no longer shall I suffer the agony of more Pre-Algebra with Kelly until she feeds the esteemed Mr. Bodie the legendary Phi Gamma Slamma!”

And that settled it.

Wade had arrived a bit early for late Sunday brunch (1:00 pm) with a gift: flowers for the table and, more importantly, a box of Maggiano’s profiteroles. Kelly reacted to his arrival with her usual elation, and it took everything she could not to abandon her station at the stove and drag him instantly into Gail’s bedroom. But in front of Gail and especially Caleb, the only thing Kelly could do to fend off weeks of teasing was to maintain her composure.

Which is more than Gail could do. For the first time, Kelly saw Gail at a loss for words. Her mouth practically hung open as she led Wade into the kitchen and handed the profiteroles wordlessly to Kelly (who, with a bit of an extra thrill, placed them on the counter next to her). She had actually stuttered a couple of times while she praised Wade for the appropriateness of flowers for the occasion. She had insisted on pictures for everyone: together, separate, and several alone with Wade.

As it happened, this experience was like a replay of her dinner with Lierman. Caleb and Gail peppered Wade with questions about various aspects of football and his life, while Kelly struggled alone with the Phi Gamma Slamma. Just as with the Lierman dinner, she felt resentful and envious toward Gail, who once again was clearly showing out for their guest. She wanted to interject to somehow step into the conversation, but her mind was so focused on not screwing up brunch she couldn’t think of anything passable to say. The anxiety was palpable.

So what else could Kelly do? Without a second thought she dove into the profiteroles—neglected and melting on the counter—and partook of their gooey, sweet goodness. One, two, three of the puff pastries disappeared by the time she was ready to serve, when she suddenly realized what she had done.

She pushed her grits and gravy off their burners, pulled her biscuits out of the bottom oven to cool, pulled her steaks out of the top oven for them to rest, and surreptitiously slid the remaining half of the profiteroles into the freezer as she pulled her scrambled eggs from the fridge. A quick dab of her apron corner to the corners of her mouth, a quick stir of beaten eggs into the quickly-cooling steak skillet, a hurried plating of her great creation later, and Kelly—looking much more composed than she felt—served the first complete dinner of her life.

An anxious Kelly, her plate untouched in front of her, hadn’t had to wait long for the first review from her boyfriend.

“Holy crap, Kelly!” he said with his customary grace, a spoonful of sweet brown butter grits in his mouth. “I thought you couldn’t cook. This is fantastic.”

Of course, that’s what he might be expected to say. And then Gail chimed in.

“Absolutely fantastic,” echoed Gail, who was systematically sampling each part of her meal in her role as Kelly’s unofficial food critic.

Of course, Gail was all goo-goo eyed over Wade. But then Caleb chimed in. Or rather, he didn’t. No snarky remarks, no teasing of the cook. Caleb wasn’t doing anything but eating. Kelly’s heart jumped, and she quickly sampled her eggs and grits.

It was as good, maybe better, than any time Gail had made it! She breathed out her acknowledgements of thanks between bites, smiling so big she was afraid food would fall out of the corners of her mouth. Conversation resumed around the table, this time with Kelly a comfortable part of it all.

Until Caleb had finally put down his fork and lifted his head. “Wait a second.”

He looked at the counter, then got up and went to the freezer and opened the profiteroles. Kelly, remembering the damage she’d already done to their dessert, hoped beyond hope that no one would see her blush.

“Yup,” was all he said.

“Yup,” Gail, who was watching him, agreed. She’d figured it out, too.

“Yup what?” Wade said in confusion.

Kelly said nothing. Her mouth was full of the last of the browned butter grits anyway. Busted.

But Caleb wasn't interested in busting Kelly over her greed. He appeared to be headed somewhere else. “Kelly, what do you think about when you cook?”

“I—“ She stopped. She honestly had never really reflected on—in the moment—what she was thinking about anything.

“Well, today I was nervous, and—“

“No,” interjected Gail, “not today. What do you usually think about? Take your time. Really think about it.”

She tried, but nothing came to mind. She reached for a biscuit and thought harder. Her eyes brightened as she had an idea.

“Unbelievable,” said Caleb, before she could say anything.

“Amazing,” said Gail.

“What the ...l?” That was Wade.

“I’m thinking about—“

“—how much you can’t wait to eat what you’re cooking,” said Gail, finishing Kelly’s thought.

“Not exactly. I mean … … holy crap! (Excuse my language!)” she added, bringing her hands to her face, forgetting the biscuit still in one of her hands. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking!”

They talked it out while Wade sat with an amused expression on his face. All the times Kelly had forgotten this ingredient or that ingredient. Or generously dipped from the cookie batter before it was done. Or pulled something out of the oven over-and-over before it was ready. Or left something on while attending something else she thought was yummy. All she needed to pass the lab was a snack for distraction!

“Yeah, well, Lennox catches you eating while you’re cooking, she’ll fail you on the spot for hygiene.”

And knowing that eating would put her over the top if she only could? That made her Home Ec final lab exam the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life up to that point.

And yet, she’d pulled it off. Kelly tasted everything (Delicious!) before she plated it for Lennox and watched confidently as Lennox dutifully tried a portion of each, a look of resignation, perhaps even boredom on her face. But Kelly didn’t care how grudgingly Lennox admitted it, only that she did: “It’s good. I’ve gotta admit it’s all very good. Well done, Kelly.”

Hearing Well done, Kelly from Lennox had felt like a warm fire at the end of the Iditarod. And, she felt just as exhausted. Yet it would be all for nothing if, just twenty minutes later, she couldn’t ace her Pre-Algebra final. Her hand had shaken as she took her test paper from Lierman. It shook so bad she could hardly write her name at the top. It was all she could do to force herself not to run out the door and away from college, away from Phi Gamma, away from the disappointment of Caleb and Gail. Her stomach churned with anxiety, and the batch of buttery biscuits she’d brought to buttress her spirits sat useless on the corner of her desk. For two minutes she had just stared at the paper, until finally she looked at the first question.

“The square of the hypotenuse equals ___________________.”

She had let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. That one’s easy.

That one had been word-for-word on the very first exam. A carefully scribbled answer, a deep breath, and Kelly hardly looked up for the rest of the two hour session.

And now, fresh off the two hardest things Kelly had ever had to do in her life, fresh off a trip to the restroom to throw up, and another trip to the Coke machine for something to wash out her mouth, standing outside the cracked door of Lierman’s office, nervously standing on one leg and then the other, second-guessing in her mind every tortured answer she’d supplied for every question on the test, wondering if Lierman would sabotage her score if he really wanted to sleep with her, trying to decide what she would really allow herself to do for (or to) her professor if she didn’t get an A, Kelly realized.

This moment had now become the new hardest moment of her life. The other two didn’t even come close.

********
“Kelly, can you come in?”

As if in a dream, she did, sat down, and arranged the lay of her blouse on her bosom just so.

Decision unmade, Kelly had yet come prepared. After brunch ended Sunday, without telling him the reason, Kelly dragged him to the Cotton Walk, where she got his approval on an underwire bra (36GG), form-fitting blouse (size XL), and a new pair of snug size 12 jeans. That, of course, was after Gail had silently mouthed to Kelly “Oh, my Gawd!” and retreated to her bedroom, the faint buzzing of electric pleasure emanating from under the door.

Oblivious to all of that, Wade had whisked Kelly away to the cab of his truck. Throughout the entire shopping trip, guilt had eaten her up, but she justified it to herself by telling herself he’d get his own chance to see her strip it all off himself sometime soon. It turned out, that time occurred sooner rather than later, in the Cotton Walk parking lot shortly after it’s early Sunday close.

“I don’t want to drag this out,” Lierman blurted, “so let me just show it to you. You passed.”

He slid the test across the desk. Across the top he had written 84 in red ink.

84. Kelly knew she should be crying, but she still felt like she was in that dream. Too low to negotiate for points. So what now?

“I know that wasn’t the grade you needed, and, and”—he exhaled, as if this was really hard for him—“I want you to know that your improvement was outstanding. I’m, I’m really proud of you.”

No Phi Gamma. No house. No parties. No sisters. No House Mother. Oh, Lord, I want my Mommy!

“Isn’t there something I can do? Anything?” Before she had known it, the words had leapt out of her mouth. I guess I just learned how far I’ll really go.

Lierman cocked his head and looked at her. He had that look he’d had so long ago when he’d first watched her eat that Snickers bar. The wait was interminable.

Caleb was right…Caleb was right…Caleb was right…can you really go through with it?

Lierman cleared his throat. “Well, now that you mention it, yes there is.”

(Continued in post 124 of this thread)

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Old 09-19-2012, 06:43 AM   #120
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Argh--cliff hanger! (and I don't mean Kelly's blouse....)
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Old 09-22-2012, 07:33 PM   #121
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Tad View Post
Argh--cliff hanger! (and I don't mean Kelly's blouse....)
:P

What do ya'll think's gonna happen?
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Old 09-23-2012, 09:06 AM   #122
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Originally Posted by StrugglingWriter View Post
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What do ya'll think's gonna happen?
I think he is protective of his career and will NOT try to sleep with her. I think that he IS however a Feeder and FA. I think he will compromise his educational ethics if she will start private tutoring with him again -While Eating and Gaining. She will get the A grade she needs in exchange for feeding and maybe 20-50 more lbs. That's MY Guess!
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Old 09-25-2012, 01:30 PM   #123
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Originally Posted by StrugglingWriter View Post
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What do ya'll think's gonna happen?
I don't want to speculate---I'm just going "la-la-la-la" to block out any thoughts of what could happen next, and waiting to be see where the story goes (nothing wrong with those who do like speculating, just not my thing)
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Last edited by Tad; 09-25-2012 at 01:31 PM. Reason: fixed up the formatting
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Old 12-03-2012, 09:36 PM   #124
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Default The Deed is Done

A half-hour later, Kelly was at complete peace.

She was waiting in the light rain in the slowest McDonald’s drive-thru line in history, both phone and radio off, simply enjoying the knowledge that her long summer of extraordinary effort was over.

She’d done it.

And as she waited, she marveled at how satisfied she felt. Hungry? Of course: she’d lost whatever might have remained of her breakfast and skipped lunch. But no longer did she feel the driving need to be satiated, or to focus her mind for intellectual battle, or even to feed the habit of moving from one meal to the next snack to the next morning, noon, and night. Kelly was in the slowest drive-thru line in history because she wanted a Big Mac and a strawberry Frappe. And that was it. She wanted it, she expected it to satisfy, and she knew she’d enjoy it all without worry or guilt.

And as she sat with nothing to do but think, Kelly took stock of what she saw. As she looked to her lap, there wasn’t anything to see but her massive, perfectly supported breasts, her outrageous cleavage distorted by the pressure of the over-the-shoulder seatbelt. She knew there was more: she felt the constraints of the tiny BMW bucket seat on her hips, the seatbelt latch pressing into her right thigh.

She sat much higher in her seat than in the recent past, evidence of the new padding in her derriere, and her bare arms, long past displaying their muscular definition were puffy and round. Her cheeks were rounded and full, her neck smooth and even rather than uneven and sinewy. Even on the steering wheel, she noticed, the backs of her hands and fingers looked a little more substantial.

Kelly liked what she saw. She loved being Kelly Kegs. Loved the attention, the sensuality, the feel of Wade’s hands on her breasts and, increasingly, the rest of her as well. This was the body she’d grown used to in high school. Yes, a little bigger, a pound of pudge here or there that appeared new or unusual, the novel pressure of this or that article of clothing, the declarative knowledge in her mind that the scale, and the clothing sizes, and the measurements were all the highest she’d ever known.

But overall, she saw the same Kellen Kingsley she always expected to see when she looked in the mirror, in contrast to the image of the slender, athletic Kelly that it had given her so much excitement (and occasional surprise) to see throughout most of the past year. The slender image had helped her to make the social committee of Phi Gamma in her freshman year.

But the Kelly she saw now had made her sophomore year in Phi Gamma possible.

“I hope you can appreciate that I’m taking quite a risk in doing this,” Lierman had said.

That’s the understatement of the year!

“Doing what?” Kelly had replied obtusely, as if she didn’t know what he was inferring.

But as usual, Lierman had kept plowing forward. “It’s never something I’ve offered a freshman—or even a sophomore. But everyone’s turned me down, and at this point I’m desperate.”

What? You mean it’s not just me? Kelly’s mind and her stomach were churning, and suddenly the prospect of trading favors for a grade started to come into focus.

“But I guarantee I can make it worth your while, even if it does mess up your schedule.”

Worth my while? Schedule? That had been Kelly’s first clue that perhaps she and Lierman weren’t on the same page.

“Dr. Lierman, this is really hard for me. Could you just please tell—“

“Ohhh! Yes, of course,” he interrupted, a pained look on his face. “I’m so easily distracted these days! I was wondering if you could be an undergraduate RA for me.”

So many emotions had washed over Kelly in succession, she had trouble keeping track. Uncertainty: did he mean in exchange for an A? Stress: the lingering effects of the last five hours of near torture. Dawning recognition: he isn’t after sex? Sudden exultation: he isn’t after sex! Shame: how could she have ever thought that about him? Guilt: for a second there, I really might have done it! Gratitude: a good man’s nature had spared her integrity while her will was weak.

But more intensely than any of those, Kelly had been confused. “What’s an RA?”

Research assistant. No math required: math credit in exchange for administrative duties supporting a graduate student on a new research project that was just taking shape. But. Twenty hours per week, inflexible hours. No pay. Terminally boring. No one he had approached had accepted the job.

Of course Kelly took the deal, to Lierman’s great relief. Gratefully. Graciously. “Thank you so much for your guidance,” she’d gushed. “I’m telling all my sisters how good you are. Next math class I need, I’ll be sure to take it from you!”

Lierman had smiled sadly. “I’m afraid this was my last class for a while, Kelly. Maybe ever. I was elected chair of the department, and I’m moving on to the next chapter in my life.”

And so was Kelly.

Kelly savored her Big Mac in the parking lot, enjoying the solitary peace of her car as the rain gently slapped against her windshield. With a final sip of her Frappe, Kelly was off to the house to celebrate the good news with Gail and start packing for that night’s drive home. Except when she got there, Gail—who usually at this time of day was slaving away on the phones or at her computer—wasn’t there. But somehow it just felt right.

She walked around the quiet house and thought about all the times she’d had here. Her room, hopelessly messy, reflected the frantic chaos of her life the past twelve weeks, whereas Gail’s spotless kitchen, site of endless study sessions and more than a few meals, reflected her remarkable gift for conquering her chaos with order. She opened the door to Gail’s bedroom and gazed at the always surprising girlish innocence of Gail’s private retreat.

And she couldn’t help but be reminded of that first amazing weekend with Wade. Her mind leaped to thoughts of the future: beyond a vague sense that success would mean returning to the Phi Gamma life, Kelly hadn’t allowed herself to think ahead to what changes this next year would bring—especially because this time Phi Gamma would have to compete with an incredible boyfriend. All summer long she’d imagined returning to her workouts on Phi Gamma’s House Mother, but now, she imagined she’d be sharing her workouts with Wade, wherever he had them, instead. She couldn’t wait to get started.

Which, Kelly knew, was really why she had found her way into Gail’s room. She couldn’t put off waiting to see the damage any longer. She retrieved Gail’s scale from the bathroom and placed it down in front of the full length mirror, just as Gail had that evening before the bender of all benders that had sealed their friendship. She kicked off her fashionable flats, loosened her new belt, unbuttoned her new size 12 jeans, stepped out of them and kicked them to the side, pulled down her lacy panties and treated them the same. She untied the cinch on her flimsy sleeveless blouse, shrugged out of it and cast it to the floor. Absent their shroud, which showed only the dual crowns and crevice of her substantial cleavage, the mass and weight of Kelly’s massive breasts was obvious as they strained against the form-fitting tank underneath.

She pulled her tank over her head, messing what was left of her long, coiled locks, weathered by an hour over the stove, hours more of nervous gestures, and the heavy humidity brought by the brief rain. It took its place next to the blouse on the floor. Her eyes were pinned to the expensive pink lacy half corset she’d bought for today, its beautiful styling hiding the menagerie of hooks and straps and wire that largely held her heavy breasts in place, that pushed and squeezed them into large round orbs—rather than the huge bombs plunging toward her navel that nature demanded they should be. She struggled to unleash all of this restraining machinery, conscious of the pudge surrounding her upper arms that endeavored to make the process impossible.

She pulled the straps from off her rounded shoulders—suddenly conscious of the angry red divets the straps had left there—and pushed the half corset down to the floor in front of her. Free of their restraints, the demands of nature reasserted themselves, as the feminine flesh spread and elongated to hang in round half orbs against her rounded torso, their perigee a mere handspan above her navel. She released her breath in conjunction with the great relief this move had always given her. She flipped her hair back over her shoulders and pulled them behind her to face the new fullness of her reflection.

Instantly Kelly knew the source for her recent difficulty pulling her jeans to her waist. Whereas the last time Kelly had stood here her shoulders and breasts had appeared outsized for the rest of her body, now her hips at their lowest point had expanded outward to even out an outrageous hourglass shape.

Kelly remembered how before she’d discovered a ridge of flesh around her waist that suggested the emergence of love handles. But those were gone, apparently having merged with extra padding around her hips that created one long smooth curve from the widest point at her hips to the middle of her sides. The effect was to accentuate what looked like a slender waist, with no hint of a bulge or line to suggest the beginning of paunch.

But Kelly’s experience the past couple of weeks warned her it was merely an illusion, and the rounded lines, curving inward where her torso met her upper thighs told the experienced eye about her camouflaged mass. Below her hips, the last vestige if her toned, athletic muscles was gone: smooth flesh curved downward on each side and tapered into the knee. Below the knee, her calves flared out roundly up top and tapered down gradually to slender ankles, like one long slender heart.

Kelly turned to the side, and the illusion of a slender waist was shattered. Truly fat she was not, as there was no sign of a hanging or even bulging paunch. The word that came to Kelly's mind was thick. Kelly’s stomach extended in one long, curved dome upward from her muff to underneath her breasts, where it could now be seen they rested upward at an angle, not quite supported by the stomach beneath them.

A deep crease defined where her fleshy upper body met the long curve of her expanded hips, and the fleshy width of her upper arms. The soft layer of flesh that now coated her back and shoulders was clearly obvious. However, whereas her hips had expanded outward, her behind had failed to follow suit, and though by no means flat, she hadn’t acquired the donk that might have called even more attention to the recent expansion of her figure. She looked up from her body and gazed into the mirror, still standing in profile. Rounded cheeks encroached upon the profile of her dainty, upturned nose, and, from the side, fleshy cheeks obscured what at the beginning of the summer had been a sharp, elfin jaw.

Kelly viewed it all not with shock or disappointment, but passively and wondrously. She realized now just what it was that Wade had been trying to tell her those weeks ago: her form was full and soft, pleasing to the eye and, her memories of her moments informed her, apparently the touch. No doubt that her form at this size constituted a criminal violation of the Phi Gamma code, the pure sexual magnetism of it no compensation for the loss of feminist power that it represented.

All summer Kelly had despaired about all the workouts she had wasted, all the pounds and then some that she would have to strip back off. And clearly, to plow onward with her Phi Gamma dreams, Kelly knew she would do just that. But for the first time she considered leaving some of those pounds in place. Kellen Kingsley had already blazed a trail into Phi Gamma. Perhaps she had made enough room for a little bit of Kelly Kegs to move in with her.

Kelly turned back toward the mirror and drank her image in, rubbed her hands up her impressive hips, cupped them beneath her breast and felt their prodigious weight, brought them up around the circumference and with crossed arms rubbed her fleshy upper arms up and down. Then she let her arms down and sighed with satisfaction, meeting the reflection of her blue eyes directly for the first time.

It was time to learn the truth.

Kelly stepped onto the scale with none of the trepidation she had known for as far back as she could remember. She bent forward and held her breasts to her chest with her arms, in a move only truly known by the outrageously voluptuous, and watched the digital numbers settle.

184.2.

Wow, Kelly thought. Eleven pounds in as many days. Sixty-one pounds in three months.

She’d seen every ounce of it staring back at her in the mirror, but still the thought of that kind of weight gain in such a short time was mind-blowing.

The deed done, Kelly returned the scale to the bathroom, picked up her clothes and strode nakedly into her room. She navigated through the train wreck and put away the constraining half-corset, exchanging it for the one bra she had that still fit. Then the jeans, tank, and blouse, realizing these, too, were among the few clothes she had that would fit.

It didn’t matter. She only needed enough clothes to get her home to see her Mommy, whom she now desperately wanted to see, and whom Kelly now knew would welcome her with love and acceptance no matter what her size. She had already arranged to meet with her trainer tomorrow. An experience Kelly had been dreading as she had imagined the recrimination, now Kelly anticipated with confidence. She controlled her body, not her mother, and not Phi Gamma, and Kelly would make the choices that best suited her desires.

At that moment, Kelly heard the garage door opening: telltale sign that Gail was back home. Exultation shot through her. She couldn’t wait to tell Gail the news! And her Phi Gamma Big Sis Sherry. And Wade! But mostly her mother. Kelly grabbed her overnight bag and began placing those few items she could wear inside it. She knew that the too-small clothes she left behind would be available for her to wear when she returned in two weeks for Fall Rush. That much more motivation to attack her diet and workouts with the same tenacity she’d applied to her studies!

Caleb had been right. Not about Lierman. Of course he’d been wrong about him. Something else. Twelve weeks ago, Caleb had said something had to give…Kelly’s fitness regimen and her standing in Phi Gamma, or her fitness regimen and her studies. Well, her studies had won, though her dress size had paid the price. Only time would tell what would tell what place Kelly Kegs might have in Phi Gamma. She had the discipline to lose the weight. She had the discipline to work her way off probation. But had she learned enough discipline to strike the balance between both?

Kelly closed her suitcase and stood up straight with a long contented sigh. Only time would tell, but the Kellen Kingsley who walked into this room with this suitcase wasn’t the same as the Kelly leaving it. Smarter, wiser, more confident, and, yes, a good bit chubbier, Kelly Kegs stepped confidently through the door that brokered her impending return to the sorority life she'd spent her childhood dreaming of.

Last edited by Britt Reid; 12-03-2012 at 10:29 PM.
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Old 12-04-2012, 10:18 AM   #125
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Nice wrap up! (I assume that is the wrap up?)
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