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Dream Inc. - by Sam (~BBW, Male to Female Transgender fantasy, ~XWG)

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BTB

a nut, but not just a nut
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~BBW, Male to Female Transgender fantasy, ~XWG - This story recovered from alt.sex.weightgain newsgroup posted in 1997 involves a double transformation, Male to female and thin to fat. The author tried to keep it fairly clean

Dream Inc.

by Sam

The Day of the phone call, Patrick was feeling kind of lonely. “Hi, this is Maria from Dreams Inc. You must of seen our brochure, Finding that special someone

As a matter of fact Pat had seen it, and had thought of calling. Just last week his mother had tried to fix him up with some tall skinny drink of water, who was an accountant of all things. If he was going to find the right girl he’d have to take things into his own hands. This sounded like the way to go , meet people who wanted to be met, and who’s interest met yours.

Two days later, he was in the office, shaking hands with Maria who gave him forms to fill out, a long compatibility test, and explained the system. Pat had been a little shy of revealing his FA tendencies, but
Maria , had been most understanding, and simply added a note to his folder, that his ideal woman was between 300 and 400 lbs.

Pat had decided on the introductory plan and Maria concluded the sale by saying that he’d be hearing from them about the first date in couple of weeks, after they’d dealt with the background and done all the other
work necessary for the fantasy girl of his dreams.

So with eager anticipation Pat went home. That night he went to sleep with visions of plump women dancing in his head. The dream was extremely erotic, but the details fled upon waking. He woke feeling blurry and
weak as if he were coming down with something. Turning his head he felt a tugging on his hair and as he raised his hand to check got the shock of his life. With disbelief he stared at a hand delicately tapered with
long bright red nails. It couldn’t be his hand and yet it was. He had moved it, using it to pull the impossible blond curls before his eyes, to touch a soft cheek. Somehow, someway, he had woken up a woman.

Lifting the covers, the weight on his chest was revealed as two nicely size soft breasts with smallish nipples that were starting to get erect. Looking around, Pat could recognize his room, the ceiling crack, the mountain
view. Yet there were changes, a mirrored vanity sat where the work table had been, the clothes piled on the chair were frilly blouses, skirts , and stone washed levies, instead of button downs and khakis. The four
poster was the same, but it now had a small menagerie of stuffed animals sharing the space.The model trains and planes on the shelves and bookcases had been replaced by dolls , doll house furniture, and a couple of jewelry boxes. A full length mirror was now attached to the back of the door, and getting out of bed Pat stood looking at the reflection. Staring back was a pretty young woman of average height, slender, but certainly well developed, she had shoulder length ash blond
hair, framing a cute face with green eyes and a slightly turned up nose.

He’d gone to bed wearing nothing but boxers and socks, she woke up wearing only her panties and socks. Checking down there she found she was indeed female with a small triangle of pubic hair, but for that, and the
hair on her head, she was completely hairless, without even any stubble on her legs or underarms.

Pat was stunned, was he still dreaming? Yes he’d fantasized about becoming a woman, albeit a little plumper, but this kind of thing couldn’t really happen, could it? Going to the bureau she found one of those little backpack things and in it an Ohio license. Patricia Hills, 21 years of age, 5’6” tall, 121 lbs. but the address was still Ridge road in Mentor.

Somehow she’d lost her sex, about 6” ,20 years, and 30 lbs. all in one night. Last year's family photo was still there, but <he> was gone from the back and <she> was now in front with little Alice in her lap.

She turned back to the mirror, caressing her full breasts, running her palms across her nipples. Looking back over her shoulder she slipped off her panties sliding her hands across what had to be definitely her best feature. This was getting intense, still caressing herself scraping her long nails down her taut belly, she fell back into bed...

The alarm going off, roused her. 9 AM , she had to go to
work. She somehow knew she now had the day shift down at MacNeil’s bar and grill.

Ed, the MCP, saved the lucrative evening shifts for the guys, leaving the slow lunch hour for the female bartenders. She was showered, dressed and sliding into front seat of the Geo-metro, parked where the pickup
used to be, when she realized that in her haste she’d instinctively done what she’d never done before. The blond hair was in a tight french braid, her face expertly made up, and the backpack purse was slung over
one shoulder.

During the next two weeks, Pat grew more used to her new life’s role.

On a suspicion she’d stopped by Dreams Inc. but the building had disappeared, replaced by an old cracked parking lot that looked like it had been there for years.

She was still pretty uncomfortable at being ogled by all the men though, most of them seemed like such jerks and too many watched mostly her chest. Oddly enough she never had much of an appetite. A cup of coffee for breakfast, a salad and maybe a sandwich for lunch, and a Hamburg or some stew or something was all she wanted for dinner. The one time she and the gang had gone out to Antonio’s, She’d only managed a few of the mussels, and about half the pasta dish. She wasn’t expecting it figuring that whatever Dreams Inc was or had done, it had happened, so she was surprised one morning on opening the door to find a distinguished looking man standing on her doorstep with a package under his arm.

“Pat Hills?"

“What?”

“I’m Frank Tyson. You know, your Dreams Inc. date.”

It was odd, but she felt an instant attraction, and well dreamy, a quality that persisted all day. She vaguely remembered going to Al’s Sunday brunch and going though the entire table twice, also some great banana splits and had that been an whole family sized bucket of KFC? The haziness lasted the whole day, but she could remember as she woke the next day, Frank saying that he was going out of town, but would call when he got back, in two weeks or so.

Waking was a return to a different reality, her arms rounder, her fingers thicker. Looking in the mirror she saw she was now quite husky. She was strong but her considerable muscle was hidden under a smooth layer of subcutaneous fat. She still had an hourglass figure but on bigger scale. Her chest larger, though her firm breasts were actually about the same size (the difference being in the considerable development of her pecs). Thick waist and wide hips leading to powerful looking thighs and calves.

The room too had changed the dolls and stuffed animals, being replaced rugby and weight lifting trophies, weights were racked where the vanity had been. She knew that she now worked at Carlson’s dairy farm just outside of town, and the loose fitting workman’s clothing reflected it.

Driving to work in Patrick’s battered old pickup was like coming home. From the folky cassettes to the toolbox in back everything was as she remembered it. This powerful body was great too, not only could she toss a 120 lb. bail further than any of the guys , but lets face it she felt much safer, than she had as a frail, voluptuous bombshell. The hard labor worked up quiet an appetite, and she regularly ate three good sized meals a day.

Once again the two weeks passed and she was no longer surprised to find her dream date at the door. This time he took her to Big Ted’s Texas style BBQ. Things were still hazy but she vaguely remember the cheering when she finished her second mammoth challenge plate, an 8” pulled pork sandwich, so thick you could barely get your mouth around it, and a side
order of fries piled so high it had to be on a separate platter. The deal is this. If you take the challenge, and finish, it’s free, and your picture’s put in the winner's circle, but if you don’t finish it costs $75.00 and you’re placed in the gallery of rogues.

By now waking in a new body was becoming almost routine. At 342 she was quite obese, and as she heaved herself out of bed and made her way over to the mirror, she felt her thighs rubbing and her new flesh
quivering. She saw the image of the kind exaggerated hour-glass figure that had been in her mind during the Dreams Inc. interview. Her face round, lips plump with a pert nose and just a hint of a double chin. She’d always admired women who gained weight all over, and while her belly and hips had gained the most, being in the upper 40’s and upper 60’s respectfully, her bosom had grown as well, and she found a 52-DD
brassiere fit just right. Nor had her arms and legs been neglected. Her large firm calves lead to substantial thighs slightly marked with cellulite, and from her plump fingers to her rounded shoulders her arms
had gained a firm fleshiness, that was set off by delightfully dimpled elbows and a tapering bulge of adipose at the wrist.

As she gazed around the room, she was amazed at how the background had once again changed. Her clothing and shoes were very feminine and designed to display her plus sized body to maximum advantage. A stack of BBW, Radiance, and plus sized catalogs showed where they had come from.

Finding nice shoes and boots for such wide feet and calves was a continual problem and the selection in the local big gal shops pretty bad. She was aware of changes inside as well. As a cowgirl she could
have cared less about clothing or makeup and usually only wore small studs in her ears. Now she had lots of jewelry, loved shopping for clothes, and as her new job was in a salon her hair was beautifully styled and the long red nails on her soft, dimpled hands were perfectly
shaped and buffed.

Her memory too was affected; when she opened the family photo album, she found the before and after shots from a miserable summer spent at weight watchers camp when she was only 14. Despite a diet of less than a 1000 calories, and a punishing physical regime, she’d only dropped 25 lb over the 2 months, the 100 lb rebound bring her up to 260 by the time
she was 15. There too was the picture from her prom with the shy boy she’d sort of tricked into taking her. They’d meet on the internet but she hadn’t mentioned that she then weighed nearly 300 lbs. He’d been
stunned when he’d seen her, and while they’d had a good time at the dance he’d never called again. The nicknames (fatty patty was inevitable) , and harassment from school, plus Mom’s constant nagging
had really gotten her down. Fortunately she discovered the fat acceptance movement that summer and had been able to come to terms with being a BBW.

The next few weeks flew by; she attended a NAAFA dance where she found her very chubby form quite popular. She could only stand up for one or two dances at a time though, before having to take a break. Exercise just wasn’t her thing, she drove everywhere and always took the elevator, sat all day at work, and spent most evenings snacking in front of the tube.

Two weeks later she woke up and was on a one week Caribbean Cruise. Like the previous dates she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten there, but she knew this was part of the date and that Frank was somewhere around. A glance in the mirror showed pretty much the same figure she’d gone to bed with, but a rumble in her stomach got her showered, dressed, and into the dining room just in time for a substantial breakfast. The food was four star, fresh squeezed orange juice, breads and cheeses, lox and bagels, eggs benedict, belgium waffles piled high with strawberries and wiped cream. Even a complimentary bottle of a quiet good champagne was brought over by the wine steward.

The service was incredible. Her table had its own waiter with two assistants. She had only to turn to find them. The food was unlimited, and if she liked a dish a second helping was produced almost instantly.

The boys quickly grew to know her tastes. Saying that this dish was too spicy, or that one too dry or without the rich sauces she preferred. They loved to tempt her with the extra orders which are inevitable in such a
large operation, knowing that though she was stuffed she hate to let good food go to waste.

Cruise ship life soon fell into a pattern. After an early breakfast, she’d get herself settled in a nice shady spot on the pool deck, where she’d rest till ten, when a light snack of coffee or hot chocolate, danishes, pastries, and small cakes, was brought around. After lunch she’d generally nap till high tea, served on the promenade deck, and featuring hot scones and pop-overs with jam and a thick clotted cream.

Dinner was at 8 and generally formal. The ship had its own salon and a plus sized shop which surprisingly always had attractive gowns in her ever increasing sizes.

The highlight of the day was the midnight buffet. Elaborate food and ice sculptures surrounded rich offerings of meats, fruits, cakes, and delightful punches. Each buffet had a different theme. The final night
was Hawaiian night and they decided to put on a special show. They asked her if she would help. Over the last six days she’d really packed on the pounds gaining an average of 20 lbs a day. With dark makeup on her skin and hair died black, a supersized grass skirt and lei, she looked the picture of a young Polynesian princess being fattened for her wedding. She was seated on a low pillow her immense belly spilling before her, surrounded by bowls heaped with rich offerings, and a large roast suckling pig placed before her. Several of the passengers and crew were her helpers, but the most diligent was her own waiter Manuel, who delighted in stuffing her till she’d eaten the entire luha, and with a huge sigh of contentment fell into a deep sleep.
 

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