Green Eyed Fairy
Veteran of a 1000 Psychic Wars
SSBBW, ~XWG - Lovely woman decides weight gain is more exciting than dieting
I was about to check the assignment board for the Metro Section of the Daily News, where I was a reporter, when I got a call. The Style Section Editor asked me to see him.
I arrived at his door, where greeted me and asked me to sit down. He told me that he realized that I usually didn't do human interest stories but he knew of my involvement with the fat acceptance movement. He also knew of my preference for larger ladies.
"Did you read the Ann Landers column several days ago? The one about that 500 pound lady that purposely gained 200 pounds and wants to gain 200 more? She agreed to be interviewed. We feel that your background might help her to feel more comfortable and give us the best story, he explained to me.
Though my preference for bigger women was no secret, I was rather hesitant. She was almost twice the size of the women I had been involved with, even before the second 200 pound gain she had planned.
I was sympathetic with people who can't help being fat but someone trying to gain 400 pounds seemed a bit far out to me. However, I really didn't have much of a choice.
Also my curiosity was getting the best of me. A 500 pound lady was a fantasy for me but I thought some fantasies are better left as that way.
I called to arrange a convenient time for her to meet with me. She seemed to be an interesting person on the phone and I felt more at ease about the interview.
I knocked at her door. It took her a while to answer but I could hear her laboring her way to the door. I was quite surprised when she finally opened up.
I didn't know which made a bigger impression on me, her beauty or her massiveness. Betsy had really beautiful, red hair with thick bangs. Her long tendrils flowed down onto her massive breasts.
She walked slowly, with her arms and legs held out from her trunk to allow room for the rolls of fat. She reached the couch and slowly sat down, filling most of the space. Then she spread her legs further apart, allowing part of her stomach to fill the space between them.
I gave her a little background information about myself, explaining my I involvement with fat acceptance and why I had been chosen to interview her. She seemed to know a lot about men who preferred larger women. We carried on a lengthy conversation, with her having almost as many questions for me as I had for her.
I was careful with how I worded my questions, not wanting them to sound too personal. She was very straight-forward in her responses, though, and told me that she suspected that I was most likely too embarrassed to ask certain things.
She said, "Feel free to print whatever you prefer. If you want specifics, I'm 510 pounds, 5' 7" tall. My measurements are 62-65-74. This is a size 60 dress and a size 56D bra Im wearing right now."
I'm entering the second step of my plan. I started the first step 18 months ago, when I was about to hit 300 pounds. I wrote that letter to Ann Landers as the end of step 1. In the 200 pound range, I was too fat for my parents and friends but too thin for the men that dated me.
I had tried very hard to take control of my life and diet but the diets always failed. Then it occurred to me that if I couldn't control my weight to reach a lower goal then maybe I should set a higher goal instead. I spent all of my waking hours planning it out. I have given this a lot of thought she continued on.
I researched it and found out there are 4 stages of being overweight. The first stage is just being somewhat overweight. It's between sizes 14-20 and entails being on the fringes of normalcy.
The second stage is being full blown fat. It's between the sizes 22-32. The third stage is between sizes 54-60. It's pretty much the max you see before you now. However, there is a fourth stage. You can't buy clothes so it's when you outgrow size 60 and have your clothes custom made, she informed me.
I was entering the third stage at 300 pounds but I wanted to be really different. I wanted a really high goal, one that would even shock the men who wanted to watch me gain. At 300, I had 2 stages remaining. I knew that at about 500, I would enter the fourth stage. Do you see this dress? she asked as she stood up slowly.
I bought it when I was 300 pounds. It seemed so big then. Not only was it 6 sizes bigger than me but it is cut so large. I didn't know if anyone could fill it out. Now I've grown so much that I have to squeeze myself into it. Later tonight, I have a dressmaker coming to measure me. When I get my new clothes next week, I'll totally be in the second step. she finished telling me.
"Would you like something to eat or drink? she politely offered me.
I asked if she had any soft drinks. She attempted to get up. Realizing how difficult and time consuming that would be for her, I offered to get it myself. She smiled and said okay.
I went into the kitchen and poured my soda. She asked, from the other room, if I would mind bringing her some ice cream and a spoon. I spooned some up into a large bowl and carried it to her in the living room. We continued the interview with my question about her dates.
"I've dated a lot," she said, I don't have a steady but I'm pleased with my social life. I've met a few jerks along the way but I suspect that everyone has met their fair share of them.
I then asked how the men had reacted to her gaining. She told me that at 300 pounds, she had noticed that there were few men who were neutral towards fat women.
If I've lost anyone because I've gained, I've probably acquired at least an equal number. A few guys have dated women over 400 pounds before but many of my dates are men who have dated 200-300 pound ladies. They are either curious or have had fantasies of dating women my size, she explained.
I can relate to that, I said, and then realized that I probably shouldn't have said it.
So, what do you think of me? she asked.
You are very pretty at any size and your size doesn't detract from your beauty. Though, you still have quite a change ahead if you go along with your plans I explained.
Just as she finished her ice cream, there was a knock on the door.
That's my dressmaker, do you mind getting it? she asked.
I answered the door and than asked if I should leave.
NO! please don't she said, This is the beginning and I want you to be here.
The dressmaker introduced herself to Betsy. Betsy was quite prepared for this meeting and had pictures she had cut from magazines to show what styles she was interested in having made.
She placed her order and then stood up to be measured. The dressmaker was having trouble with the measuring tapes since it took 2 to fit around Betsy so she asked for my assistance.
I tried to be as impersonal as possible but it felt good to touch Betsys body as I reached around her to hold the ends of the measuring tapes in place. Betsy wrote a check as a deposit and received an estimated date for when the clothes would be ready.
It was getting late but I still hadn't finished my interview. I asked her for a convenient time to come back again. She suggested that I come back when her clothes were to be delivered.
On the allotted date, I had returned and Betsy invited me to sit down. She was munching on some chocolates and informed me that the dressmaker would be there soon.
Would you like for me to model my new clothes? I used to wear really stylish clothes but it's hard to find them over a size 52. It's also hard to have them made they way I want them. When you get to be my size, clothes don't really fit well anymore she explained.
There was a knock at the door. The seamstress had 7 boxes, each one containing a new dress. The lady took them out one at a time and held them up for Bettys approval. Betsy commented on how huge they seemed to be.
The seamstress explained that clothes over a size 54 had to be cut large because flesh tends to shift a lot and therefore requires extra room. Betsy seemed appeased by this explanation, acknowledged that they all looked very nice and paid the balance due. She then saw the dressmaker out the door.
Isn't this exciting? Betsy asked. My first custom-made clothes.
I couldnt help but to be honest and say that almost anybody else would be terrified of gaining so much weight and asked how could she be excited about it. She patiently explained that she enjoyed being different and liked the attention.
There are millions of people but only several thousand or so that wear a size 60. Now I'm really different. Soon I'll be different from almost everyone else. I like being noticed. I like to turn heads whether it's men who like what I look like or even if it's people who are horrified by how I look. It really doesn't matter to me one way or the other she told me.
I have no dependents. I have enough money in the bank so I can decide if I want to work or stay home. I may never stop growing. Being this large is like visiting a new place. Every new milestone is fascinating for me she finished.
She got up to go to her bedroom to try on her new clothes. I hadn't noticed how tight her old size 60 dress was until I saw the outline of her belly button pushing out against the material.
She came out in a stunning green dress. It was cut large. Although the pleats hung around her body, there were several places where the pleats were partially unfolded by her vast shape.
She sat down on the couch and sighed happily.
This feels so much better. My tummy is so much bigger when I sit down and it rests on my lap she explained.
She reached over and took a cookie from the plate of them on the coffee table. She offered me one and then finished the remaining few that were left.
We had talked quite a while, some as part of the interview, and some just chatting.
Why don't you come back one evening and I'll cook you dinner she offered.
The next time that I could return was in two weeks so we agreed that it was a date. I had finished writing the story the very next day but was not sure when the paper planned to print it.
The day finally arrived when I was to go to her place for dinner. I hadnt realized until that very evening how much I had been looking forward to seeing Betsy again.
I rang her door bell and heard her slowly making her way to open up for me again. She looked lovely in another one of her new dresses and I bent down to kiss her on the cheek in greeting.
When I stepped into her dining room, I was surprised to see that the table looked like a holiday feast for a family gathering. Many dishes held a variety of foods, complete with fancy table cloth, candles and wine. My mouth started watering from all the delicious smells lingering together.
Feel free to eat what you like, she told me. It took me a while to acquire an appetite this large but I'm getting used to it. Sometimes, I think it's just as hard to gain weight as it is to lose it.
She sat down on a backless bench that was custom made to hold her. While her tummy almost touched the table, the bench was quite far away from it. Her fat, fleshy, arms had no trouble reaching everything though.
After much time spent enjoying that wonderful meal, she invited me into her living room. I had grabbed the second bottle of wine and our glasses as we made our way there.
She sat down on the couch and made her usual adjustments to get comfortable. Usually, she just fluffed out her dress a little but now she had to move some flesh around.
She spent a lot of time tugging at her bra.
She looked a little embarrassed and said, Excuse my adjustments. I tend to put weight on in one area at a time. I think it all ended up here this time. I put in a rush order for larger under things. It wouldnt surprise me if some women just quit wearing bras at this size.
It's impossible to uplift anything this big and it's only flesh. However, I prefer to keep wearing them. It seems more lady like to me. I just have to wait to have them custom-made, as well she continued.
The night with her was going well and we found ourselves having some interesting discussions. I admired her body and features every chance I could do so unnoticed. The increased roundness in her breasts kept drawing my attention.
I left around midnight, politely kissing her on the cheek again. She was a lady. I would treat her as such, not wanting to jeopardize our new friendship.
A few days later, I got word from my editor. My article was so well accepted that I was asked to write a whole series of them. I called Betsy and gave her the news.
She liked the idea. I explained that this meant weekly meetings with her. She seemed happy to oblige. I found myself looking forward to seeing Betsy again on a regular basis. Her honesty was so refreshing to me.
On my next visit, she asked if I would like to see more of her new clothes. I wasnt aware that she had ordered more.
"Yes," she said, "I'll go put a new some on for you."
She came out in her bra and pants, modeling her new brassiere. I had never seen her less than fully dressed. In all of my FA days, I had never seen such a huge bra.
The back was 6 inches wide with straps were 2 inches wide each. The bottom half in front of the bra was hidden where her breasts overhung her midriff. Stretch marks ran down her exposed flesh.
I told her it was a pretty bra and then made myself keep focused on the interview.
Our meetings continued and I kept looking ahead to seeing her again. Each time we met, she was a little bigger and her clothes a little tighter, even though they were made to hang lose.
It had been about six months and she was up to 560 pounds. Most of her dresses didn't fit anymore and the ones that did were very tight. She had slit the arms and places in the back so she could sit down in them.
Her bra was too tight, too, even with extenders hooked to the back. She had set up an another appointment with her seamstress on the night we usually met.
The dressmaker arrived and complimented me on my articles. She seemed excited to be part of the stories.
Betsy ordered 7 new, bigger dresses and more custom-made bras and panties. The dressmaker seemed more outspoken this time.
Betsy complained that her bra was too uncomfortable because of the straps digging into her thick shoulder flesh. The seamstress pointed out that there wasnt a whole lot of comfort available for shoulder straps having to support so much weight on them. The most comfortable option would be soft camisoles instead of restricting, tight bras.
Betsy was disappointed, but finally agreed. The discussion then turned back to the new dresses. Betsy still wanted the same styles as the last ones.
"I'll need them large enough to fit even if I gain 50-60 pounds" she explained.
The dressmaker balked. She said that there was not much styling to be done for that big of a size. She had some pictures of dresses that she recommended as being flexible enough for growth.
"I hate them," Betsy said.
They were sleeveless and neck less. There were straps that went between the neck and the arm to hold the dress up. It was a tent dress with straps.
"It looks like a circus dress Betsy lamented.
The dressmaker said she'd make anything Betsy wanted but warned her that there wouldnt be much room for growth. The seamstress then proceeded to take Betsys new measurements, asking for my assistance again.
Betsy had to remove her bra so the lady could bet accurate measurements for the camisoles. She shyly removed her clothes and I averted my eyes. I couldnt help but see her breasts, though, as I held the tapes around her again. They rolled down over her midriff instead of resting on top of it as I had expected.
"I'll start on them tomorrow. If you have any changes, call me tonight" said the seamstress before leaving.
Betsy asked for my opinion about her new dresses. I told her that maybe she should try at least one of the recommended dresses since that seemed to be part of getting bigger. She agreed and seemed more at peace with the idea now.
"I'll get five in the new style and two in the old," she conceded.
We spent the rest of the evening talking as she ate a chocolate cake. I thought liked how she looked now, braless now under her clothes. Her breasts moved as she walked. She called to change her order later that night.
We met the following week, and she answered the door in one of her new dresses. It flowed as she walked. It was the loosest dress I had seen her in. The dressmaker had cut it large so it would still be comfortable as she hit the 600 pound mark and beyond.
She asked what I thought. I told her it was very cute and looked good on her. She said that it reminded her of a circus fat lady and that she thought they wore that style dress to look funny.
I told her that the lady in the Guinness Book of World Records had the same kind. It was simply the easiest style of dress for very large women to wear. She thought about that and agreed and then told me that she hadn't felt that comfortable for quite a while.
We continued to see each other weekly. It was mostly social, although I would have had to visit her anyway to keep up on the story. I wasn't falling in love but we had become the best of friends.
She was gaining an average of two pounds a week. It seemed that the space between the arms of the couch and her body was getting smaller. Her stomach kept growing, pushing her braless breasts further apart.
The holidays rolled around and he had invited me over for Christmas dinner. She was not as mobile as she used to be so cooking those large meals she liked was getting too tiring for her.
She ordered a big feast from one of her favorite restaurants and had it delivered. It was still hot and smelled heavenly when it arrived.
I was used to watching her eat large qualities of food but she ate even more than usual. I attributed it to it being a holiday, when most people eat more than they normally do. She excused herself but called me to her bathroom a short time later.
"I weighed 599 yesterday. I thought if I had a big meal today, you'd be here to see me hit another milestone" she smiled as she told me.
She stepped up on the two scales placed side by side. They each registered 301.
She was wearing the non-tent like dress that she ordered. I liked her in it because it gave a better silhouette of her figure but I could tell she was uncomfortable in it.
"Well, I've outgrown this dress. I'm glad the dressmaker talked me out of ordering more like it she said.
However, her other dresses only lasted until February. Her hips and thighs were pushing out the dress to its maximum width. The next visit by the dressmaker was uneventful.
Betsy had resigned herself to ordering more of the tent dresses. When she they arrived, she showed them to me. I had never seen anything like it.
They had to be more than five feet wide on the hanger. They were loose on her now. However, I suspected it would be like it had been before and she might outgrow them in six months or so.
Our meetings were becoming less frequent. There really wasn't anything new to cover for the paper. While she continued to gain, there really just wasn't much new to add to the story line.
The last time I tried to call her, I had gotten a message saying that her phone had been disconnected. Getting no response when I knocked her door, I sent her a letter, hoping it would be forwarded so I would know her new address.
However, she sent me a postcard back without a return address. She said that she was really happy with her new life and that she was getting the attention she enjoyed so much. Her weight had hit a plateau at 730 pounds.
I still think about her sometimes .and miss our chats.
The Newspaper Star
by Anonymous
Posted from the Anonymous Alcove of the Dimensions Weight Room as part of the Dimensions WR Library Story Migration Project
by Anonymous
Posted from the Anonymous Alcove of the Dimensions Weight Room as part of the Dimensions WR Library Story Migration Project
I was about to check the assignment board for the Metro Section of the Daily News, where I was a reporter, when I got a call. The Style Section Editor asked me to see him.
I arrived at his door, where greeted me and asked me to sit down. He told me that he realized that I usually didn't do human interest stories but he knew of my involvement with the fat acceptance movement. He also knew of my preference for larger ladies.
"Did you read the Ann Landers column several days ago? The one about that 500 pound lady that purposely gained 200 pounds and wants to gain 200 more? She agreed to be interviewed. We feel that your background might help her to feel more comfortable and give us the best story, he explained to me.
Though my preference for bigger women was no secret, I was rather hesitant. She was almost twice the size of the women I had been involved with, even before the second 200 pound gain she had planned.
I was sympathetic with people who can't help being fat but someone trying to gain 400 pounds seemed a bit far out to me. However, I really didn't have much of a choice.
Also my curiosity was getting the best of me. A 500 pound lady was a fantasy for me but I thought some fantasies are better left as that way.
I called to arrange a convenient time for her to meet with me. She seemed to be an interesting person on the phone and I felt more at ease about the interview.
I knocked at her door. It took her a while to answer but I could hear her laboring her way to the door. I was quite surprised when she finally opened up.
I didn't know which made a bigger impression on me, her beauty or her massiveness. Betsy had really beautiful, red hair with thick bangs. Her long tendrils flowed down onto her massive breasts.
She walked slowly, with her arms and legs held out from her trunk to allow room for the rolls of fat. She reached the couch and slowly sat down, filling most of the space. Then she spread her legs further apart, allowing part of her stomach to fill the space between them.
I gave her a little background information about myself, explaining my I involvement with fat acceptance and why I had been chosen to interview her. She seemed to know a lot about men who preferred larger women. We carried on a lengthy conversation, with her having almost as many questions for me as I had for her.
I was careful with how I worded my questions, not wanting them to sound too personal. She was very straight-forward in her responses, though, and told me that she suspected that I was most likely too embarrassed to ask certain things.
She said, "Feel free to print whatever you prefer. If you want specifics, I'm 510 pounds, 5' 7" tall. My measurements are 62-65-74. This is a size 60 dress and a size 56D bra Im wearing right now."
I'm entering the second step of my plan. I started the first step 18 months ago, when I was about to hit 300 pounds. I wrote that letter to Ann Landers as the end of step 1. In the 200 pound range, I was too fat for my parents and friends but too thin for the men that dated me.
I had tried very hard to take control of my life and diet but the diets always failed. Then it occurred to me that if I couldn't control my weight to reach a lower goal then maybe I should set a higher goal instead. I spent all of my waking hours planning it out. I have given this a lot of thought she continued on.
I researched it and found out there are 4 stages of being overweight. The first stage is just being somewhat overweight. It's between sizes 14-20 and entails being on the fringes of normalcy.
The second stage is being full blown fat. It's between the sizes 22-32. The third stage is between sizes 54-60. It's pretty much the max you see before you now. However, there is a fourth stage. You can't buy clothes so it's when you outgrow size 60 and have your clothes custom made, she informed me.
I was entering the third stage at 300 pounds but I wanted to be really different. I wanted a really high goal, one that would even shock the men who wanted to watch me gain. At 300, I had 2 stages remaining. I knew that at about 500, I would enter the fourth stage. Do you see this dress? she asked as she stood up slowly.
I bought it when I was 300 pounds. It seemed so big then. Not only was it 6 sizes bigger than me but it is cut so large. I didn't know if anyone could fill it out. Now I've grown so much that I have to squeeze myself into it. Later tonight, I have a dressmaker coming to measure me. When I get my new clothes next week, I'll totally be in the second step. she finished telling me.
"Would you like something to eat or drink? she politely offered me.
I asked if she had any soft drinks. She attempted to get up. Realizing how difficult and time consuming that would be for her, I offered to get it myself. She smiled and said okay.
I went into the kitchen and poured my soda. She asked, from the other room, if I would mind bringing her some ice cream and a spoon. I spooned some up into a large bowl and carried it to her in the living room. We continued the interview with my question about her dates.
"I've dated a lot," she said, I don't have a steady but I'm pleased with my social life. I've met a few jerks along the way but I suspect that everyone has met their fair share of them.
I then asked how the men had reacted to her gaining. She told me that at 300 pounds, she had noticed that there were few men who were neutral towards fat women.
If I've lost anyone because I've gained, I've probably acquired at least an equal number. A few guys have dated women over 400 pounds before but many of my dates are men who have dated 200-300 pound ladies. They are either curious or have had fantasies of dating women my size, she explained.
I can relate to that, I said, and then realized that I probably shouldn't have said it.
So, what do you think of me? she asked.
You are very pretty at any size and your size doesn't detract from your beauty. Though, you still have quite a change ahead if you go along with your plans I explained.
Just as she finished her ice cream, there was a knock on the door.
That's my dressmaker, do you mind getting it? she asked.
I answered the door and than asked if I should leave.
NO! please don't she said, This is the beginning and I want you to be here.
The dressmaker introduced herself to Betsy. Betsy was quite prepared for this meeting and had pictures she had cut from magazines to show what styles she was interested in having made.
She placed her order and then stood up to be measured. The dressmaker was having trouble with the measuring tapes since it took 2 to fit around Betsy so she asked for my assistance.
I tried to be as impersonal as possible but it felt good to touch Betsys body as I reached around her to hold the ends of the measuring tapes in place. Betsy wrote a check as a deposit and received an estimated date for when the clothes would be ready.
It was getting late but I still hadn't finished my interview. I asked her for a convenient time to come back again. She suggested that I come back when her clothes were to be delivered.
On the allotted date, I had returned and Betsy invited me to sit down. She was munching on some chocolates and informed me that the dressmaker would be there soon.
Would you like for me to model my new clothes? I used to wear really stylish clothes but it's hard to find them over a size 52. It's also hard to have them made they way I want them. When you get to be my size, clothes don't really fit well anymore she explained.
There was a knock at the door. The seamstress had 7 boxes, each one containing a new dress. The lady took them out one at a time and held them up for Bettys approval. Betsy commented on how huge they seemed to be.
The seamstress explained that clothes over a size 54 had to be cut large because flesh tends to shift a lot and therefore requires extra room. Betsy seemed appeased by this explanation, acknowledged that they all looked very nice and paid the balance due. She then saw the dressmaker out the door.
Isn't this exciting? Betsy asked. My first custom-made clothes.
I couldnt help but to be honest and say that almost anybody else would be terrified of gaining so much weight and asked how could she be excited about it. She patiently explained that she enjoyed being different and liked the attention.
There are millions of people but only several thousand or so that wear a size 60. Now I'm really different. Soon I'll be different from almost everyone else. I like being noticed. I like to turn heads whether it's men who like what I look like or even if it's people who are horrified by how I look. It really doesn't matter to me one way or the other she told me.
I have no dependents. I have enough money in the bank so I can decide if I want to work or stay home. I may never stop growing. Being this large is like visiting a new place. Every new milestone is fascinating for me she finished.
She got up to go to her bedroom to try on her new clothes. I hadn't noticed how tight her old size 60 dress was until I saw the outline of her belly button pushing out against the material.
She came out in a stunning green dress. It was cut large. Although the pleats hung around her body, there were several places where the pleats were partially unfolded by her vast shape.
She sat down on the couch and sighed happily.
This feels so much better. My tummy is so much bigger when I sit down and it rests on my lap she explained.
She reached over and took a cookie from the plate of them on the coffee table. She offered me one and then finished the remaining few that were left.
We had talked quite a while, some as part of the interview, and some just chatting.
Why don't you come back one evening and I'll cook you dinner she offered.
The next time that I could return was in two weeks so we agreed that it was a date. I had finished writing the story the very next day but was not sure when the paper planned to print it.
The day finally arrived when I was to go to her place for dinner. I hadnt realized until that very evening how much I had been looking forward to seeing Betsy again.
I rang her door bell and heard her slowly making her way to open up for me again. She looked lovely in another one of her new dresses and I bent down to kiss her on the cheek in greeting.
When I stepped into her dining room, I was surprised to see that the table looked like a holiday feast for a family gathering. Many dishes held a variety of foods, complete with fancy table cloth, candles and wine. My mouth started watering from all the delicious smells lingering together.
Feel free to eat what you like, she told me. It took me a while to acquire an appetite this large but I'm getting used to it. Sometimes, I think it's just as hard to gain weight as it is to lose it.
She sat down on a backless bench that was custom made to hold her. While her tummy almost touched the table, the bench was quite far away from it. Her fat, fleshy, arms had no trouble reaching everything though.
After much time spent enjoying that wonderful meal, she invited me into her living room. I had grabbed the second bottle of wine and our glasses as we made our way there.
She sat down on the couch and made her usual adjustments to get comfortable. Usually, she just fluffed out her dress a little but now she had to move some flesh around.
She spent a lot of time tugging at her bra.
She looked a little embarrassed and said, Excuse my adjustments. I tend to put weight on in one area at a time. I think it all ended up here this time. I put in a rush order for larger under things. It wouldnt surprise me if some women just quit wearing bras at this size.
It's impossible to uplift anything this big and it's only flesh. However, I prefer to keep wearing them. It seems more lady like to me. I just have to wait to have them custom-made, as well she continued.
The night with her was going well and we found ourselves having some interesting discussions. I admired her body and features every chance I could do so unnoticed. The increased roundness in her breasts kept drawing my attention.
I left around midnight, politely kissing her on the cheek again. She was a lady. I would treat her as such, not wanting to jeopardize our new friendship.
A few days later, I got word from my editor. My article was so well accepted that I was asked to write a whole series of them. I called Betsy and gave her the news.
She liked the idea. I explained that this meant weekly meetings with her. She seemed happy to oblige. I found myself looking forward to seeing Betsy again on a regular basis. Her honesty was so refreshing to me.
On my next visit, she asked if I would like to see more of her new clothes. I wasnt aware that she had ordered more.
"Yes," she said, "I'll go put a new some on for you."
She came out in her bra and pants, modeling her new brassiere. I had never seen her less than fully dressed. In all of my FA days, I had never seen such a huge bra.
The back was 6 inches wide with straps were 2 inches wide each. The bottom half in front of the bra was hidden where her breasts overhung her midriff. Stretch marks ran down her exposed flesh.
I told her it was a pretty bra and then made myself keep focused on the interview.
Our meetings continued and I kept looking ahead to seeing her again. Each time we met, she was a little bigger and her clothes a little tighter, even though they were made to hang lose.
It had been about six months and she was up to 560 pounds. Most of her dresses didn't fit anymore and the ones that did were very tight. She had slit the arms and places in the back so she could sit down in them.
Her bra was too tight, too, even with extenders hooked to the back. She had set up an another appointment with her seamstress on the night we usually met.
The dressmaker arrived and complimented me on my articles. She seemed excited to be part of the stories.
Betsy ordered 7 new, bigger dresses and more custom-made bras and panties. The dressmaker seemed more outspoken this time.
Betsy complained that her bra was too uncomfortable because of the straps digging into her thick shoulder flesh. The seamstress pointed out that there wasnt a whole lot of comfort available for shoulder straps having to support so much weight on them. The most comfortable option would be soft camisoles instead of restricting, tight bras.
Betsy was disappointed, but finally agreed. The discussion then turned back to the new dresses. Betsy still wanted the same styles as the last ones.
"I'll need them large enough to fit even if I gain 50-60 pounds" she explained.
The dressmaker balked. She said that there was not much styling to be done for that big of a size. She had some pictures of dresses that she recommended as being flexible enough for growth.
"I hate them," Betsy said.
They were sleeveless and neck less. There were straps that went between the neck and the arm to hold the dress up. It was a tent dress with straps.
"It looks like a circus dress Betsy lamented.
The dressmaker said she'd make anything Betsy wanted but warned her that there wouldnt be much room for growth. The seamstress then proceeded to take Betsys new measurements, asking for my assistance again.
Betsy had to remove her bra so the lady could bet accurate measurements for the camisoles. She shyly removed her clothes and I averted my eyes. I couldnt help but see her breasts, though, as I held the tapes around her again. They rolled down over her midriff instead of resting on top of it as I had expected.
"I'll start on them tomorrow. If you have any changes, call me tonight" said the seamstress before leaving.
Betsy asked for my opinion about her new dresses. I told her that maybe she should try at least one of the recommended dresses since that seemed to be part of getting bigger. She agreed and seemed more at peace with the idea now.
"I'll get five in the new style and two in the old," she conceded.
We spent the rest of the evening talking as she ate a chocolate cake. I thought liked how she looked now, braless now under her clothes. Her breasts moved as she walked. She called to change her order later that night.
We met the following week, and she answered the door in one of her new dresses. It flowed as she walked. It was the loosest dress I had seen her in. The dressmaker had cut it large so it would still be comfortable as she hit the 600 pound mark and beyond.
She asked what I thought. I told her it was very cute and looked good on her. She said that it reminded her of a circus fat lady and that she thought they wore that style dress to look funny.
I told her that the lady in the Guinness Book of World Records had the same kind. It was simply the easiest style of dress for very large women to wear. She thought about that and agreed and then told me that she hadn't felt that comfortable for quite a while.
We continued to see each other weekly. It was mostly social, although I would have had to visit her anyway to keep up on the story. I wasn't falling in love but we had become the best of friends.
She was gaining an average of two pounds a week. It seemed that the space between the arms of the couch and her body was getting smaller. Her stomach kept growing, pushing her braless breasts further apart.
The holidays rolled around and he had invited me over for Christmas dinner. She was not as mobile as she used to be so cooking those large meals she liked was getting too tiring for her.
She ordered a big feast from one of her favorite restaurants and had it delivered. It was still hot and smelled heavenly when it arrived.
I was used to watching her eat large qualities of food but she ate even more than usual. I attributed it to it being a holiday, when most people eat more than they normally do. She excused herself but called me to her bathroom a short time later.
"I weighed 599 yesterday. I thought if I had a big meal today, you'd be here to see me hit another milestone" she smiled as she told me.
She stepped up on the two scales placed side by side. They each registered 301.
She was wearing the non-tent like dress that she ordered. I liked her in it because it gave a better silhouette of her figure but I could tell she was uncomfortable in it.
"Well, I've outgrown this dress. I'm glad the dressmaker talked me out of ordering more like it she said.
However, her other dresses only lasted until February. Her hips and thighs were pushing out the dress to its maximum width. The next visit by the dressmaker was uneventful.
Betsy had resigned herself to ordering more of the tent dresses. When she they arrived, she showed them to me. I had never seen anything like it.
They had to be more than five feet wide on the hanger. They were loose on her now. However, I suspected it would be like it had been before and she might outgrow them in six months or so.
Our meetings were becoming less frequent. There really wasn't anything new to cover for the paper. While she continued to gain, there really just wasn't much new to add to the story line.
The last time I tried to call her, I had gotten a message saying that her phone had been disconnected. Getting no response when I knocked her door, I sent her a letter, hoping it would be forwarded so I would know her new address.
However, she sent me a postcard back without a return address. She said that she was really happy with her new life and that she was getting the attention she enjoyed so much. Her weight had hit a plateau at 730 pounds.
I still think about her sometimes .and miss our chats.
