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Feeding Time - by MaxOut (~BBW, ~MWG, Science Fiction)

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maxoutfa

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~BBW, ~MWG, Science Fiction - A scientist makes a very personal discovery.

FEEDING TIME
by MaxOut

(Author's Note: here's a bit of sci-fi rescued from the defunct geocities site. By the way - if you get the feeling that the speaker is an insensitive jerk - you're right!!!!!)

Man can be such an arrogant creature, yet sometimes we can be so stupid. We dabble in things we have no right to mess with, and ultimately are not very good at covering our mistakes. If we could just relax a bit and let fate run its’ course; but no, we’re way to proud and too smart for that. It’s the smart ass people like me who think they can bend the natural order of things to serve themselves that Fate likes to rake over the coals; just to prove that what is written is written, and the insignificant will of man cannot hope to change it.

I was working as part of a secret government sponsored team of scientists concerned with the space-time continuum. I was team leader of a group working on some of Hawkings’ theories. I had determined that, yes indeed, time was cylindrical, and being so, then time travel was indeed a possibility. Of course there are the well-documented theories, expanded upon ad nauseum in sci-fi stories concerning time travel paradoxes; the ‘what ifs’, i.e., if you changed something in the past, does it effect the present? What happens if you run into yourself in the past? These mental gymnastics don’t concern me, though, in my own estimation, traveling backwards is impossible for those exact reasons.

No, what intrigued me, and the area in which my group was devoting its’ efforts was in traveling forward. Of course it might be reasoned that if one were to go forward and change something, then go forward again, that future would be different from the one you first visited before you changed things. But, confused reader, I ask you this: who cares? Whether the future is A or the future is A amended, we here in the present won’t know when we get there, and that is the key.

Whether you run into yourself in the future doesn’t really mean anything (as long as your present self doesn’t freak out) because anything you do to your future self cannot effect your current self. Of course you might reason that if, in the future, your future self kills your current self, then wouldn’t he cease to exist as well? Nope, sorry, it doesn’t work that way. You see, anything that may happen in the future to your current self is meaningless, because it is NOT happening in present time. If you are visiting the future and are run over by a bus, it will not kill you; only the you that is existing in that particular future. It effects the you of the here and now not at all.

All that being said I have a story to tell. You see, as simple as I’ve tried to make future travel sound, there are a few catches that I didn’t figure out until I had been there to see with my own eyes. You see, much of the knowledge I’ve imparted to you I learned, you might say, the hard way. And as I am writing this in retrospect, the old adage “hindsight is 20-20” definitely applies.

My tale starts with the discovery that you can measure time, and thus calibrate just how far in the future you are going. This coupled with the completion of the hardware required to alter space and therefore effect time was the miracle of modern science, the pinnacle achievement of mankind to date. The long hours, the disappointments as theory after theory was disproved all paled to minor speed bumps on the expressway to this monument to the thought power of man.


As team leader I directed the three other scientists in my group to keep quiet concerning the fact that we had a working model up and running. Of course we hadn’t tested it on a human yet, having thus far only sent an orange one hour forward and then waiting to see it laying on the table an hour later where there had been no orange before. Yes, let’s keep this little miracle a secret until we can further test it, for sure as I’m breathing, as soon as word gets out to the brass, our project will be taken away from us and my little playpen will be gone.

What I really wanted to see was if my marriage could be saved. You see I love my wife, love her dearly. It was a stroke of luck that I found her and that she was, at least at first, attracted to me as well. She is a smart woman, no MENSA member like yours truly, but certainly able to follow the logic in most discourses. And physically she is like a dream. Long and lithe; a runners’ body; blond with alabaster skin, a pixy nose, smallish mouth with full sensuous lips. Her eyes a dark green with yellow highlights that could look deep into you and claim your soul. She was my ideal. An icon of all my dreams of beauty and grace. And yet we were drifting apart.

I could feel the tension building. The way she seemed to not be paying full attention the few times I was around. I got the distinct impression that when I managed to woo her to our marital bed she did so out of duty, not pleasure or the desire to jump my bones. And really, who could blame her? It’s not like I ‘m a great catch. My physical attributes are nothing to write home about, as is the case with most men of science. Not terribly interested in being buff, thank you very much, but I’d much rather spend the time exercising my mind.

Couple this with the long hours I was spending at the lab, plus my self absorption as the project began to move closer to becoming a reality, and it’s no wonder that Lynn was discontent. It’s like I was never really there anyway. Still, as I’ve said, I do in fact love her dearly and was looking forward to making up for lost time (ha ha, a little time travel joke I just made) with a long vacation to some far away island, just the two of us.

So, I was curious. I wondered if I should be spending the time trying to patch things up, or simply write us off as a lost cause. I really didn’t want a long antagonizing farewell that ended badly and broke my heart, and since I had the means to find out if I should be girding my heart, I decided that I would do a little after hours testing of our hardware.

I first devised a return beacon for the hardware, so that I could exist in the future and then find my way back to the present. For now this seemed a good idea, because I wasn’t ready to take that quantum leap to a permanent future. I made all the calculations and prepared for an eight-hour journey, figuring that, even if the machine failed, I would (or at least my future self) would still be around come morning.

I went home early, telling myself that this could be the end of the me that I was living, and convinced that I was doing it all for Lynn and our marriage. I was hoping that she would be pleased to see me and would give me a nice little send off before I traveled. To my extreme disappointment it was business as usual. I was asked why I was home early, and I did get a little smile out of her as I told her that it was to see her. Of course that victory was short lived as she frowned and shook her head when I told her I had to go back later in the evening. She turned back to her law books like I was barely there, mumbling that there was some left over pasta in the fridge, and that I was welcome to help myself. ‘Chilly in here isn’t it’ I mused.

I waved myself a plate and made a small salad, asking Lynn if she was going to eat. “Not right now. I’ll probably fix myself a salad later on.” Well, at least this was keeping her petite figure.

I went into the den, meal in hand, turned on the tube and half watched as my mind tried to compartmentalize the anticipation I was feeling and my misgivings concerning my cold reception back at house and home. Was there any chance left? Should I be prepared to walk away now, before things got messy? I had to know.

I made it back to the lab by 10:30 and was ready to take that ‘one big step for mankind’ by 11:00. I entered the transport chamber and the next thing I knew, nothing happened! Of course it would appear that way, as I hadn’t traveled anywhere, just any when. I looked at the LED and YES, I was now in tomorrow! I wrote my past self a little note, saying hi from the future, and left it at my desk. I hung out in the future, not feeling any different, then activated the homing sensor and returned to present time: 11:23.

I crossed to my desk, but the letter from myself wasn’t there! Then I realized that of course it wouldn’t be there until after 12:00. Stupid! So I twiddled my thumbs for a while and then, at about ten after twelve, writing appeared on the sheet of paper in front of me. I wondered what would have happened if I had moved the paper before midnight. If the paper would have magically appeared, or if the sheet would have been unavailable to my future self by my having moved it before myself in the future had written on it. So, a conundrum after all! Well, I decided, we’d just have to experiment and find out.

The next several nights I tried all sorts of variants, going forward and back, and determined several factors concerning forward travel. First principal is that the traveler, upon returning to the present can sort of undo what he did in the future by removing the apparatus .In other words, upon returning, one can prevent your “true” self from eating an apple in the future by eating said apple, thus making it unavailable to be eaten in the future.

Principal two is that what befalls the traveler in the future does not affect him when he is returned to the present.

Principal three is that the returning traveler can effect what will happen to his “true” self in the future, and can effect what will happen to his future self, or someone else as well. In other words, if one were to travel five years into the future and witness your future death, say by getting run over by a bus, you can return to the present and write a note to your future self to watch for busses on the fateful day.

Of course a lot can happen between now and then. The paper can be lost, your house could burn down, and any number of things could conspire to prevent the message from getting through. Almost as if nature doesn’t like you fooling around with the true path of things, and will conspire against you. One would be better off to re-send yourself to just before the cataclysmic event and push your future self out of harms way. Of course in that instance, since you have thwarted Fate, all bets are off and your future self might just fall through a manhole cover and break his neck.

I became obsessed with my future traveling. Scarcely coming home at all over a space of several months, testing new theories, each time stretching my boundaries a bit further. I discovered that of course time and space were sequential. There was to be no immortality. The amount of time you spent in your future was equal to the real, present time. If you spent two weeks time living sometime off in the future, the homing beacon was only able to return you to “real” time, two weeks after you had left. In other words you would age normally and time/space would keep marching inexorably on, with or without you.

This of course was going to cramp my style, for, as long as the project was to remain under wraps, I could not be in the future any longer than it would take for me to explain my absence in real time. Therefore, each night at 11:00 I was allowed to travel forward and look around for 8 hours. This way I was always back at my desk in real time by 7:00.

After my first couple of eight-hour trips, it became apparent to me that principal number two had a nice side effect. To wit, whether you sleep the whole eight hours or drink like a fish, you will not return any different than when you left. Although time had passed while you were gone, it didn’t effect YOU. Therefore, just because it was now 7:00 AM your body was absent for those eight hours, so for you, it was only 11:00 PM. Instead of being awake for 24 hours straight, it was only 16, and that’s a big difference. Still, just because I was only living 16 hour days, the body still needs to sleep somewhere in there. It’s just that my recuperative powers appeared heightened because my days were only 16 hours long.

Finally, after several experimental trips I felt I was ready to take the plunge and cover a bit more time/distance. I first moved myself one month ahead, set to arrive in early evening. My car was not in the lot, but fortunately I only lived two miles from the lab so it was not a long walk to return to my home. Upon getting there, I saw my car parked in the driveway. Oh oh, not good, I told myself. Didn’t want to tip my hand too soon and walk in on my future self. That just wouldn’t do for Lynn to see two of me. So I hung out just down the block and waited until my future self departed, obviously back to the lab. Shortly thereafter, Lynn departed our home, jumped into her car and sped off.

Hmmm. Looks to me like she’s got somewhere to go and is in a hurry to get there. My imagination jumped immediately to the worst-case scenario; that she was had a rendezvous with a lover. Of course there could have been a million other explanations, but I of course believed that my future self was wearing the horns. I was pissed, frustrated and hurt by Lynn’s’ perceived betrayal. I realized, naturally that I would need further proof, so I decided that I would go back to the present and then come back to this future stream only slightly earlier so I would have time to call a cab and then tail Lynn to her amorous destination.

It was then that I found another principal of forward travel. You could not visit a specific time that you had been to before. The paradox of possibly running into another forward traveling self prohibited such an action. Damn! So instead I tried to go just forward enough to run into my future self. Again no go, probably prevented by the same principal.

I tried to go an evening later, this time determined to find and talk to my future self, but again I was prevented. I walked to our home, saw my car in the driveway, signaling that I was at home, but was unable to get closer than across the street. It was as if there was some kind of time force field preventing me from crossing the street. As I looked across I could detect an almost shimmering glow. I wondered if it was only there for me to see, or if my future self could see it as well. Very strange. I pondered whether the phenomena where you intend to do something or go somewhere but end up someplace else could have a correlation to future travel; as if the time line was preventing you from meeting with a future traveler. In effect, working to prevent the paradox from both ends.

The next night, having left my second car in the lot, I traveled three months forward. There was my car, dusty but serviceable, waiting patiently for me. I drove to my home and was somewhat shocked to see that my other car was not there. Hmm. Where was I?

My heartbeat quickened as I considered walking into the house and confronting Lynn. I wonder what would happen? Since I didn’t know where my other self was; whether it had just left or hadn’t been home at all this evening, I decided that it probably wasn’t worth chancing an embarrassing situation. No matter, for shortly thereafter the front door opened and Lynn strode purposely down the steps and into her Beamer. ‘Going out again’ I muttered. And then it hit me. Wait a minute. Sure, that was Lynn, but wasn’t she a bit heavier? Yeah, now that I think on it, she looked more solid and well fed. Wonder what that’s all about?

I decided to discreetly follow her, trying to ascertain just whom she was seeing. She headed off in the direction of the law firms’ offices, but that didn’t convince me of her innocence, for she mostly worked at home on her PC, and had no easily explainable excuse for needing to go into the office at this late hour. She pulled into the firm parking lot and I drove past, spinning a U-turn at the corner and then coming to a halt just down the block where I got a good view of Lynn entering the building. Yep, I wasn’t imagining things. Lynn looked maybe fifteen to twenty pounds heavier. Her business suit was revealingly tight all over and her short skirt revealed legs that were definitely beefier than before. The glimpse I got of her face as she passed under the lighted entrance showed that her hard edges had softened and her chiseled cheeks were beginning to blur. Still, the look on her face was one of hunger, as if she really craved whatever it was that was inside the building. Two-timing slut. I just knew that she was making it with one of the associates at the firm. Damn! How could I stop her?

It took me a couple of days to cool down and start thinking rationally; and then it struck me. Of course, stupid! You noticed that Lynn was putting on the pounds; ever give any thought as to why? It’s because you were going forward and feeding her somehow. Sure, if she got fat then her suave lawyer boyfriend would dump her and you could have her all to yourself again.

Still, the question was, how was I going to make it happen. I couldn’t just materialize and say “Here Lynn, have a cookie.” She was so into fitness and her body as a temple that no way would she eat what I gave her. There must be some other way, for the evidence was there in her chubby future self.

A couple of weeks went by with no solution, but then I got a revelation as a side project I was working on gave me an idea. The project was a mobile transmitter, whereby the traveler could travel forward and then, using the transmitter, travel to another period without having to return to base. I finished the design and had the transmitter dialed in to project within a three-foot radius of the transmitter. Then it hit me. Anything within that radius, not just myself, would be transported. If Lynn was within that space with me, then she would be transported forward to wherever I was headed. Hmmm. A plan was beginning to hatch.

I moved forward a week and walked into our home, knowing full well that my future self was at the office also traveling. I explained to Lynn that the project was winding down and soon I’d be able to spend more time with her, and I was sorry that I’d been so pre-occupied. She gave me a half smile, not sure if she entirely believed me, and then consented to let me give her a hug and a smootch. When she was in my grasp, I set us both forward three hours. As it was November, the sun had set a long time ago, so there was no telltale sign that we had just jumped forward.

I asked Lynn if she wanted to go out to Viaggio to eat, and to my surprise she said sure, she was famished. Alright then! We had a nice supper, ate a hearty meal, had a nice bottle of Chianti, and then split a cannoli for desert. During the meal we made small talk and I rediscovered why I loved her so. I drove her home and we made love, so sweet and pure just like there was no rift between us. How could she be seeing someone else? How could she make love to me like this and then be spreading her legs for someone else?

I kissed her gently, then transported us back to her present and my future. A funny thing happened then. I ended up back in my office in real time, and Lynn? I surmised that she had been moved back to her present. I surmised that I couldn’t go back to her present because I was already there as a future traveler, while she was merely returning to where she belonged. Interesting!

I also realized that, though I had just eaten a hearty Italian meal I was still hungry. How could this be? Oh, of course, the food I had eaten was in the future so of course my present self was still hungry! Yes, and that meant that when Lynn returned to her present that she would still be hungry as well, not realizing that she had just had a full meal.

But then, if my second principal held true, what happened in her future, i.e., eating, would have no effect on her in the present. So why had I seen her in the future twenty pounds heavier? I postulated that perhaps because she was not a true traveler, merely a secondary one, accompanying me on my second hop, as it were, then maybe what was happening was this: she was eating dinner once in real time and then once again three hours later. Having traveled to get to that three hours later meant only that she would not remember having eaten before, or tell that she was going to eat again later.

So, my sweet, lithe, two timing girl was going to now be eating four square meals on a regular basis. That would sure help add the pounds to her.

Time passed (a little joke) and the ritual became routine. I would jump to the following day and then jump forward again, this time with Lynn in tow. After about two months she was straining the seams of everything she owned, her arms and legs getting chunky and her hips widening. As we made love I noticed how flabby her tummy had become. You could pat it and send ripples like a wind on a pond. God, it was gross!

It was at about this point that Lynn complained to me that she felt she was putting on weight. Not wanting to get into the ‘do I look fat’ trap I quickly suckled a breast while fingering her and the crises was averted. Good thing too, for how could I answer when I was staring at her breasts, which were beginning to sag with her added weight and flab. Yes, the plan was working well. Soon no guy was going to be interested in her. I know for my part she was sure no turn on, all round, saggy and soft. If I wasn’t in love with her I know that I’d have problems getting it up for her, and it was only going to get worse.

A few weeks later, having spent some cash purchasing new clothes, Lynn was not present at home when I traveled. The answering machine said she was working on a case at the office with her co-council. Damn, this had to be the guy! I vowed to redouble my efforts towards making her unattractive even though the thought of her getting even fatter disgusted me. Well, better having her fat and mine then losing her to someone else.

Sometime in the next week forward I made arrangements to cook a meal for Lynn. She said she needed a break from her case and promised she would be home on time. I made a tortellini casserole, garlic bread, a large Caesar salad and tiramisu for desert. To my surprise Lynn plowed through the salad and ate a huge helping of the casserole, sopping up the extra sauce with pieces of bread. She sighed as she soaked up the last of the sauce and told me how fantastic her meal was. Her eyes became glassy for a moment, as if she were somewhere else, and then she smiled at me and said, “you know, I just think I’ll have a small taste of seconds. Your sauce is divine.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Lynn had always been such a light eater and now here she was, plopping a huge second serving onto her plate. And this was after a huge, meal sized salad. I watched in horror as she rapidly spooned mouthful after mouthful, licking sauce off her lips in between gulps. Then she reached down and unzipped her Donna Karan slacks, letting her swollen gut spill out. Gross! I almost couldn’t bear to look at her, her belly all distended, her cheeks chubby and smeared with cream sauce. What had I done? How was this happening? She finished the second helping, grunted with satisfaction, rubbed her bowling ball of a belly and asked me if I had made desert.
I stammered an assent making a feeble attempt at hiding my shock and Lynn just smiled and said, “bring it on.”

She had two generous helpings of the rich ladyfingers and then, licking her fingers, smiled at me giggled that she would probably pop if she ate another thing. She pushed her chair back from the table and leaned back, stretching her gut. I was amazed at its girth. There was no way she was going to be able to re-zip her pants! She rubbed her tummy and then excused herself from the table. Christ, she was barely able to rise out of the chair! She gave a small “oomph” as she hoisted herself up, standing wobbly with one hand cupped under her belly, holding her slacks in a semi – half-mast position. She looked like she had swallowed a basketball and I winced as she waddled off to the bathroom, her wide caboose jiggling behind her.

I was staring off into space, wondering how this bovine thing could be my slim hipped, tomboyish Lynn, so I didn’t notice that she was standing at the doorway. “Hey slugger, feeling amorous?” she queried.

I turned towards the sound and my jaw must have hit the floor, for there stood Lynn, totally nude, her belly looking pregnant and sagging into her pubic area. I couldn’t help but stare, almost like the ‘looky lou’s’ at a car wreck. Her long legs turned into thick, well-padded thighs that had grown together. Her hips hanging out away from her pelvis bone and her sweet, petite, perky breasts had become flabby, matronly udders that sagged into the fleshy area where her ribs used to be, despite the provocative arms akimbo pose she attempted.

I shuddered inwardly, and then complained of a headache, telling Lynn I was really sorry and that I hoped she had enjoyed all I had cooked for her. She pouted, then her eyes turned steely and as if she were writing me off, said, “OK then, thanks for the meal. Hope you fell better soon” and stomped out of the room, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

Phew, that was close! I don’t think there was any way I could have made love to her the way she looked just then. Just too blatantly FAT for my tastes. I guess I had better be prepared for making love with the lights off from now on. Yuck!

(part two to follow)
 

maxoutfa

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Part 2

For about a month I stopped traveling forward as I was just too freaked out by Lynn’s appearance; and besides, I couldn’t see the point in fattening her up any further. Finally though, my curiosity got the better of me and I decided that, since I had been away a month, I might as well go forward six months, just to see where things stood. My God, in that two-month period Lynn must have gained another thirty pounds! She was all roly-poly, round and flabby, and her beautiful face was beginning to melt. Her slim figure was totally gone, replaced by a dumpy thing full of rolls and bulges, her hips incredibly wide, so she looked like a giant pear.

She gave me a chilly reception as I entered the house, looking up from her laptop just long enough to give me a ‘oh, it’s just you’ look before grabbing a handful of M&M’s and returning to her screen.

“Wanna pizza?” I asked, trying to break the ice.

“Sure, large combo, extra cheese” she replied without turning, her fat butt squeezed into her chair.

I told her that my vacation was coming up soon and that, as the project was winding down, the company was probably going to let me take it this year. She waved her hand, her flabby upper arms jiggling, and told me that she needed to finish the brief she was working on and, please, could we talk after the pizza arrived. Wow, chilly in here, isn’t it? Still, under all the layers of fat she was still my Lynn, and I vowed to get back into her good graces.

Several days later I traveled forward again only to find an empty house. There was a letter leaning against her computer screen addressed to me. I tore it open and as I read my heart felt like I was being knifed.

“I don’t know how to break this to you, but you must have had an inkling that things haven’t been going well between us (unless you’ve been so totally absorbed in your “project” that you haven’t even noticed that either). The project is only part of the problem, I fear. I seem to have become an afterthought in your life. Someone just there for whenever you deem it necessary. I can tell that you haven’t been listening to me ever since you started this infamous project of yours.”
“Be that as it may, as I stated, your distance pertaining to the job I can probably weather, however the way you’ve abandoned me physically as well just tears me up inside.”
“Yes, I realize that I’m not the same girl you married. I guess I’m almost twice that now, but you never questioned or seemed to notice or care one way or the other until it was too late. I can see the disgust in your eyes when you look at me now. You think I’m some fat cow and you can barely stand to touch me anymore. Fine, if that’s all I was to you, just a petite plaything, then the loss is yours, for I’m writing this to tell you that I have found someone who appreciates me for me. And I mean ALL of me.”
“It’s funny, I don’t know why I started putting on weight. I don’t recall eating any more or exercising less, but somehow it happened, and the irony is, once I gained about twenty pounds, my lover started to notice me. We had long talks and he encouraged me to let myself become what I was truly meant to be. If that meant putting on almost a hundred pounds then that was fine by him. He explained that he preferred large women, and that, although this was his preference, he was falling in love with me and would be thrilled with me in any shape or size.”
“So, as I became larger, eating to please him and myself, I found you becoming more and more distant. The choice became an easy one. Continue to live with someone who treated me like the furniture while becoming increasingly put off by my fat, or, for the first time in my life, opening up myself to all I could be. Eating for the pleasure of it, secure that my man was pleased by each new pound.”
“All I can tell you is that, for the first time in quite a while, I am happy, and I’m going to do all I can to stay that way. If I eat myself into the circus fat lady I won’t mind, for the journey will be delicious and my man will be driven to new heights of lovemaking. Good for me, sorry for you, although I sometimes surmise that you probably won’t even notice that I’m gone. I’ll be drawing up divorce papers soon. Please, let’s not make a mess of this and, when you receive them, sign and get it over with.”
“I don’t regret marrying you, just part of life’s’ journey, and it’s clear that you have no interest in the direction I’m heading.”
“Fondly, Lynn”.

So there you have it. For all of my Machiavellian scheming I lost her anyway. I wonder if destiny had been written all along, and my part in it was already mapped, or if, by my actions, I caused the events to transpire, just in perhaps a different way. Of course, this question of free will versus predestination has been argued for centuries.

I still wonder if the ultimate destiny was whether Lynn was supposed to leave me to be with her lawyer lover, regardless of how I pushed her into his arms; or, if her true destiny was to find the fat person within and embrace that self and in doing so become whole and reside in a true state of oneness and grace. Maybe I did her some good after all, although for all the wrong reasons. The moral, of course, is that man shouldn’t mess with the order of things. I tried to dictate what was to be, and only made a mess of things. Let the brass worry about time, for I now find myself with infinitely too much of it on my hands.
 
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