How to Have a Fatter Belly - by Wetsobem (~BBW, Eating, ~SWG)

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Wetsobem

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~BBW, Eating, ~SWG - A fat-loving college girl sets out on a unique regimen to increase her largest asset.

How to Have a Fatter Belly
By Wetsobem



Marlene belched loudly and patted her fat, bloated belly. Her hand made wet smacking sounds against her flabby, bare skin, and her more than full stomach gurgled affectionately.

“God, I love doing this!” Marlene said to herself and continued to rub her belly soothingly. Her loose, wobbly fat shifted and jiggled beneath her moving hands.

She referred, of course, to lounging on her bed, shoving huge amounts of fattening junk food down her throat, and watching her belly grow. Marlene had pulled up her shirt and unbuttoned her pants before she had even started her afternoon’s long, delectable pig-out session so she could see the plump, burgeoning fruits of her labors swelling over her lap.

Marlene rolled forward and sat up, flattening the mattress beneath her wide butt and making the flimsy dormitory bed groan dangerously. Her already huge stomach spilled onto her lap as two thick rolls, a smaller pillow on top of a fleshy pink inner tube with her belly button hiding in between. She snatched blindly at the dresser beside her bed to retrieve another cream-filled chocolate snack cake and promptly shoved it whole into her eager mouth. Barely even chewing, she gulped down the gooey treat and gripped her swollen stomach by the sides in satisfaction.

“Mmmmm…” she cooed as she squeezed her lower roll and looked upon it lovingly. “You look great from up here,” she smirked, “but what about to the rest of the world?”

With some effort, Marlene swung her chubby legs over the side of the bed and hefted herself to the floor with a thud. She waddled to the full-length mirror on the outside of her bathroom door while bearing her churning stomach in her hands. She dropped her heavy belly onto her bare upper thighs so that it smacked loudly, and she watched in the mirror the long show of jiggling and bouncing that followed.

“Ah, poo,” Marlene sighed, lightly touching the side of her belly to test that it really matched her reflection.

Marlene’s dark brown eyes looked unhappily at the big, flabby body in the mirror. Despite all of her efforts, most of Marlene’s body was one big disappointment to her. How hard should it be to gain weight? Millions of people were doing it every day without any difficulties at all. Marlene’s problem, though, was that she was far more demanding than most people. She didn’t want to merely pack on the pounds. She wanted to do it right. Why couldn’t the fat just go where she wanted? She poked the bottom of her unsatisfactorily small belly again, hoping that perhaps she had missed something about it in the mirror.

Marlene was, in fact, missing out on many of her best features while pouting over her “tiny” belly. Her gorgeous face would have driven any man mad with lust; though, Marlene’s face did not really match the rest of her body in so much as, without a wider view. Few would ever place her head atop a body anywhere nearly as fat as Marlene’s. She had to swipe a lock of her fluffy brown hair off her eyes, revealing the entirety of a tender, sexy face almost completely unmarred by the fatness enveloping the rest of her body. Though Marlene was well aware of her face’s powers of sexual attraction, the relative svelte smallness of her head was far more important to her; it made the rest of her body appear even more massive by comparison.

But her body needed no help from her head. Marlene was above average height, but her weight was far higher than could be explained by her bone structure. Marlene’s fat body was a labor of love; namely, she loved her fat. More than anything else, Marlene loved her fat belly.

The same men who would so easily fall in love with her face might admit to themselves secretly that even her surprisingly big body might be hot if it were about two hundred pounds lighter. And, indeed, to Marlene’s constant chagrin, she was shaped like an over-bloated classical hourglass. Her bust was magnificent; she sported flabby but well supported breasts, each nearly the size of her own head. Marlene did enjoy her breasts in a much more traditional sense than she enjoyed her face, but even their size and plush softness were pitiful consolations for a girl who yearned for a massive, swollen glob of belly fat to hug and squeeze.

Unfortunately for Marlene, her belly seemed dead set against cooperation. Even under so much fat, Marlene’s waist was pinched strikingly, effectively cutting her belly fat in half and maintaining her busty, thick-hipped body type. Marlene’s lower belly roll was thick and jiggly, but its impressive fatness was lost between her swooping hips.

In a gesture of animosity, Marlene gripped the monstrous hemispheres of her mortal enemy: her ass. She lifted and shook each cheek, sending waves of jiggling over her entire body, and she let loose a cry of frustration. Her ass was huge! Why—was—her—ass—so—HUGE?!

Marlene’s butt was actually just about as perfectly proportioned with the rest of her flaring curves as possible, but to Marlene, anything bigger than her belly was too big. By her reasoning, because her hips were wider, they almost certainly got more attention: they spread out more than her belly when she sat, they were a lot heavier than her precious gut, and her butt cheeks were almost as flabby as her fat belly. The very idea of it! Marlene shook her ass, swiveling in the mirror to find the non-existent magical angle that made it appear smaller. She huffed in indignation when none could be found.

Desperate for some good news, Marlene pounded into the bathroom and stepped on the scale. The digital display cycled its “calculating” animation of dancing lines, and after five seconds 313.0 flashed out of the grey screen.

“Geez, I haven’t been this unlucky since I weighed a hundred thirty,” Marlene mumbled. That had been a long time ago. It had not been a happy time, either. Nevertheless, any number that was bigger than before meant that at least some of the fat was going to her magnificent belly, even if Marlene wished that the increased padding were a little more selective.

Dredged out of her slump, Marlene hoisted up her pants and squeezed the button closed over her belly. Even though her waist was the skinniest part of her torso, her belly itched where the denim rubbed tightly against her tender skin. She knew that in only a few minutes there would be angry red marks that circled her entire waist. Marlene wished that she did not have to subject her delicate belly to such scarring torture—especially because she suspected that squeezing her belly in two every time she put on pants was contributing to its refusal to fill out properly—but it was very hard to find pants that fit properly, and most pairs she bought didn’t last a month before they were too tight again, anyway. Marlene tugged down her shirt and unwrapped another snake cake. She stuffed it into her mouth as she hopped up onto her bed. Thinking with bliss about how full she was already, she reached for another one and swallowed it, too.

Marlene had to continue the rest of her casual binge with her clothes on because she knew that her roommate, Claire, was due back from class any minute. Marlene had always been careful to never let Claire catch her with her pants down—literally—even though there was no way to hide the trash bags full of empty snack wrappers, flattened boxes of cookies, hollow ice cream cartons, and drained milk jugs from her roommate. Claire just seemed to accept that whenever she saw Marlene, she saw Marlene eating; that was who her roommate was. A fat girl who was always eating, and that was the way Marlene liked it.

But Marlene did not like everything about her lifestyle. She did not like having to stop eating delicious treats once her stomach was stuffed full; she did not like that her ass was her dominant feature when she longed for nothing more than to have a gigantic, sexy belly. Marlene absentmindedly squeezed her bloated belly fat and dumped the last snack cake in the box into her hand. Before she ate it, she flipped the box over to read how many calories each cake had been worth, but she was distracted by the humorously ironic “Better Life Through Fitness” fun facts plastered all over the back of the box. A cartoon man and woman jogged along a winding park sidewalk and laughed while a boy played Frisbee with his dog in the background. Marlene read the colorful thought bubbles of information about living a healthy lifestyle as she chewed slowly on the last fattening cake.

Did you know: You burn more calories standing than sitting!

“Yeah, no duh,” Marlene chuckled, spluttering a little chocolate onto the white cardboard.

No time to go to the gym? You can firm your butt and thighs by walking every day!

Marlene’s eyes roved over the rest of the snippets of advice without really reading them, but she read over the one about thighs again before tossing the box away. Curious, she inspected the life-like pictures of the happy man and woman more closely than before. Indeed, both of them were drawn with exceptionally well toned legs. Marlene noted with a touch of jealousy, there wasn’t a woman alive who would call the female jogger’s butt too big. Marlene looked back and forth between the box and her own fleshy thighs. Even restricted in her tight jeans, her thigh fat spread out like warm dough over her bed sheets, stretching the fabric of her pants to the limit.

I do kind of just lie around all day, Marlene thought.

But that only helped her gain weight, right? Something about that stupid fitness advertisement, though, planted the seeds of a radical idea in her head. Marlene had spent most of her young adult life up to the present doing just about everything she could—which usually meant doing as little as possible—to pack on the pounds in the noble quest to build the perfect belly. Every weight gaining tip or trick she had ever read had always been about which foods maximized the amount of calories she could eat in a single sitting, or they told her when, how, and how much to eat to see the best results. But those results had always been just a number. Sure, she was bigger—a lot bigger than she had been a few years ago—but after crossing the two hundred pound mark, she had fully expected to see her belly’s growth accelerate past everything else. She had been wrong.

As much as she loved stuffing herself and getting fatter, she had never devoted any effort toward directing where the fat was going to end up on her body…could she even do that? What Marlene wanted was a bigger belly, but the thought had never crossed her mind that there might be other things she needed to do besides eating and lazing around all day.

All at once, like a cascade of pure brilliance, idea after idea began pouring into Marlene’s head. Some of the solutions seemed so obvious now that she really thought about them. She could make her belly grow faster! Or, at least she could try. If nothing worked, she couldn’t be any worse off for trying. At worst she would have to end up fatter than she was now, which was always a plus in Marlene’s book.

Marlene threw herself out of bed, shaking the contents of the shelves in the room beneath her, and plopped her wide butt down into her desk chair. Snatching a pen and flipping to the first blank page of a little paper note pad, she furiously jotted down her ideas and as many details as she could before she forgot them or they were replaced by fresh inspirations. When her creativity finally dried up—for the moment at least, Marlene read over all she had written, nearly three full pages of notes in all. She crossed out a few things here and there, but could not think of anything else to add. She’d hammer out some of the details later, and she was certain that along the way she would have to make some revisions, but in her fluster of excitement and pride in her ideas, Marlene concluded with a nod that she had just come up with a something that would make her life immeasurably better. With a final flourish of her pen, she scrawled a hastily conceived but descriptive title across the top and underlined it several times energetically.

“How to Have a Fatter Belly.” Marlene held the paper aloft and positively squealed with delight. She could hardly wait to get started!

“What are you writing, Lena?” Claire let the door to their room swing shut on its own, and she threw her school bag under her bed as she spoke.

“Hey, Claire! It’s a list I just made for myself. Sort of a self improvement project I’m going to start working on right away,” she explained with a smile.

“Oh, cool!” Claire chirped, kicking off her shoes. “Does that mean that you’re finally going to read your psych textbook and come to the gym with me?”

Marlene laughed so hard that her jiggling body almost made the chair tip over.

“I guess I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ then?” Claire screwed up her face and rolled her eyes good humouredly at her heaving roommate. Ignoring Marlene until her laughter subsided, Claire released her ruddy red hair from its ponytail and let a few uncombed strands fall onto her face. Claire’s freckled nose and ginger complexion were ever so slightly tanned from the many hours a week she spent running around campus, but genetics kept her from developing the deep bronze that she probably deserved. For everyone who knew Marlene and Claire, though, the difference in complexion was definitely not the most memorable feature about the two oddly matched roommates. Standing next to each other, it looked like Claire’s entire streamlined body could fit inside of Marlene three times over. It did not help that Marlene was almost a head taller than her roommate, whose lithe, toned frame made her seem even smaller next to Marlene’s fat ass and ham-sized breasts.

Eventually, Marlene did stand and walk across the room to where Claire was standing, forcing the smaller girl to directly acknowledge the uncanny size of her sweet-faced friend.

“Psych? No,” Marlene said, wagging her finger. “But,” she added, “I might just take you up on that second offer.”

Claire raised an eyebrow suspiciously and crossed her arms. “Really?” she asked, not believing it one bit. “You? You are going to go to the gym with me?”

“Of course not!” Marlene laughed. She gripped the sides of her gurgling stomach and shook it a little. “And lose all of this? No thanks. I was thinking something a little less…strenuous.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Claire asked, still skeptical of Marlene’s uncharacteristic desire for exercise.

***​

“Walking!” Marlene declared enthusiastically, and she punched skyward with one flabby arm. Her legs were spread wide in her ludicrously tight yellow exercise shorts, and her other fist was drilled into her side in a silly superhero pose. Marlene, though, looked decidedly less than heroic crammed into an old red t-shirt that would have barely fit her fifty pounds ago and a pair of hot-pants so small that the bottom of her ass hung loosely out of each leg. The rest of her thighs except for the few inches just below her hips were completely uncovered, and her dimply skin gleamed in the warm morning sun.

Claire shook her head and continued stretching. She was understandably a little embarrassed by Marlene’s outburst—though her roommate did not seem to mind the dumbfounded stares of nearly everyone within earshot—but since her friend seemed to have taken a genuine interest in her own well-being, Claire thought it was only right to give her a little companionship in her endeavor. Claire’s sky blue workout clothes were practically new, and they fit her appropriately; she could not help but have a morbid curiosity, though, about when Marlene’s comically small pants were going to snap off of her like a stretched rubber band.

“Stop acting like an idiot so we can get going,” Claire prodded her once she felt sufficiently limber.

“Okay, okay,” Marlene said with a smile and hopped up next to Claire. The mad jiggling that sloshed through her body made her belly briefly pop out of her shirt. Marlene did not seem to care at all, but she promptly tucked her flab back into her shorts after a sharp look from Claire.

“So where are we going, Oh Fearless Leader?” Marlene asked with more than a touch of ire.

Claire pointed down the street and gestured directionally as she explained the intended route. “I thought we’d go down to the end of the block then head up toward Main Street, go all the way through downtown, and then loop back to the dorm by going around the football and soccer fields,” she said.

Marlene blinked while trying to decipher Claire’s complex geography. “So…about how far is that?” she asked.

“Only about five miles,” Claire said trivially. “We should probably be back in less than an hour even if we go slow this time—”

“F-five miles!” Marlene stammered. “In one hour?! Jesus, are you trying to kill me?”

“Oh, shut up you big cry baby!” Claire scolded. “We’re only walking. Most people walk at least that far in a day, anyway. Now let’s get going!”

Claire started down the street, and Marlene followed sulkily at her heels.

“Five miles,” Marlene muttered hotly under her breath. “It’s a good thing I brought a snack.”

Marlene pulled out a package of Skittles that she had wedged impossibly into the waistband of her shorts. Claire watched as Marlene tore open the package and dumped the entire contents into her mouth at once. After she’d swallowed it all, she licked her lips with relish and patted the side of her belly contentedly before catching up to her exercise partner, who had already started without her.

“Can I ask what it was that inspired this sudden motivation to exercise, Lena?” Claire asked.

Marlene smiled and said, “It isn’t just this: I’m on my way to a whole regimen of self-improvement!”

“But doesn’t it defeat the purpose to be eating candy while you are trying to exercise?” Claire observed.

“Of course not!” Marlene waved off the criticism. “The whole point of walking with you is just to keep this monster in check,” she explained and smacked her ass demonstrably. “I read somewhere that just walking a lot can really tone up your butt and thighs without using too much energy.”

“Who would have thought?” Claire remarked sardonically.

“I know! So here I am, giving it my all today for a big payoff tomorrow!” With that, Marlene began taking big, theatrical steps, swinging her arms happily as she plodded heavily along.

Her strides were so large that Claire had to scurry to catch up with her. “Hold on a minute!” she warned. “You’re not used to this yet. Don’t tire yourself out too soon!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Marlene puffed, already red about the face, “I’ll be just fine! It’s only a little walk, after all.”

An hour and a half later, Marlene staggered into her room supported by Claire, who was trembling noticeably under Marlene’s sweaty bulk. Claire led her burden to her bed and mustered enough strength to throw Marlene in the general direction of the mattress. Marlene, tongue lolling out of her mouth and positively soaked through with sweat, managed to swing her thick legs up onto the bed sheets. Almost immediately, the cloth beneath her began to darken as her sweat poured off her body and into the mattress.

“Told you so,” Claire tut-tutted. Except for her forehead, Claire’s skin was bone dry, and she was only breathing heavily because of how difficult it had been to assist Marlene up the stairs to their room.

Marlene’s face was redder than her shirt, and it took her almost half a minute to catch enough breath to respond at all. “Sh…shut up!” she blurted lamely.

“That’s okay. You’ll do better tomorrow,” Claire smirked.

Marlene let out an exasperated groan and squirmed with dread atop her damp sheets. At the mere mention of more walking, Marlene’s empty stomach let out such a grumble that the bed shook beneath her.

“Need…chocolate!” Marlene moaned childishly. Her arms flailed over the edge of the bed, helplessly searching for a box of food that was not already empty.

Claire pulled off her shirt and walked to the bathroom for a shower, doing her best to ignore her exhausted roommate. She paused, though, on the threshold of the bathroom and in a humoresque act of compassion, she tossed a new box of snack cakes from Marlene’s desk to the gasping behemoth before she closed the door. The whole time she shook her head disapprovingly, but she also smiled clandestinely at Marlene’s cute antics.

Marlene caught the box deftly and tore it open fiendishly. She devoured six of the twelve cakes in the box before she even stopped to breathe. Before she moved onto her seventh, she lifted her shirt and jiggled her belly contentedly. She stopped for a moment to listen to the tell-tale sound of running water to assure her that Claire was safely preoccupied by bathing. With an air of secrecy, she withdrew a tightly folded, sweat dampened sheet of paper and unfurled it carefully. With a pen from her dresser, she placed a check mark next to the first item on her refined list and smiled. She was on her way!

“Number two: Big pants!” Marlene announced as she marched down the middle of the sun-streaked shopping corridor. She and Claire we two of only a handful of people at the mall in the early afternoon, so she had free reign to trot her bulk around in whatever fashion she pleased with her friend clumsily in tow. Every few steps the girls walked under a rectangular skylight that made Marlene’s eyes sparkle with studs of gold, and the sunbeams stained Claire’s coppery hair with streaks of fire.

“Number two what?” Claire asked disinterestedly. “We haven’t gone into a single store yet.”

Marlene stopped in her tracks and winced involuntarily. She hadn’t meant to let anything slip by letting her enthusiasm get the better of her, but with each passing day, her goals started to seem more and more like a fantastic game. She spun around on her heels, and everything but her butt and upper thighs sloshed heavily after her.

“I meant…eh…pants are the number two thing every girl needs,” she said, smiling a little too broadly.

“What’s number one?” Claire asked, walking past Marlene to get them both moving again. Marlene followed accordingly.

“Bras…duh,” she quipped.

Claire shook her head—she noted that her neck was starting to feel sore from how often she seemed to be doing that in Marlene’s company. “You’re weird,” she said, stopping in front of a store Marlene frequented.

“Besides,” she said, turning to Marlene, “why do you need bigger pants, Lena? I thought the whole point was to make your ass smaller.”

“It is, but the ones I have now don’t fit very well in the first place,” Marlene explained.

Claire certainly could not argue with that. Every day Marlene somehow managed to squeeze her bulging fat into a pair of pants easily two or three sizes too small. Her blubbery love handles mushroomed over the waist of her jeans even now, and they wobbled provocatively as she hopped blithely into the store in search of, as she had put it, “big pants.” One thing that Claire did not see, however, was any notable amount of jiggling from Marlene’s butt and thighs. The two of them had been walking together for several weeks, and it was really starting to show on Marlene. Granted, Claire had a strong suspicion that Marlene had not actually lost any weight for all the effort, but her ass seemed—dare she even think it?—smaller than it had been at the beginning of the month. It was still huge, but, Claire thought with pride, she would put money on the existence of a firm layer of muscle beneath all of that fat—muscle which she knew would all the more rapidly slim down Marlene’s bubble butt to a more manageable size.

Claire followed Marlene as she browsed through the stock, picking out pairs of this and that with a shrewd eye. She followed Marlene to the dressing rooms and waited patiently in the husband chair while the two of them conversed from opposite sides of the stall.

“Wow! I haven’t worn pants this loose around my waist in years!” Marlene marveled invisibly, squeezed daintily into her small changing closet. She thrust open the door with a bang, shocking the dozing Claire, and stuck her butt in the grimacing ginger’s face.

“Check it out: I think these actually make my butt look good!” Marlene beamed.

Marlene had lifted her shirt so Claire could see her waist line, and Claire had to admit that the tight legs of the as of yet un-purchased jeans hugged Marlene’s derriere rather alluringly. The acid washed denim smoothed out Marlene’s still chunky thighs, and the waist did not seem to pinch into Marlene’s fat sides at all. It seemed that slimming down her butt a little really had allowed Marlene to find better fitting pants.

“They sure do!” Claire whole-heartedly agreed, adding, “Now get your ass out of my face.”

“You really mean it?” Marlene asked. She was still unprepared to believe that she and her once despised enemy might finally be waving the same flag.

“Absolutely. If anything, it looks a lot smaller than it used to, and you’ve really earned it these last few weeks,” Claire reassured her twittering friend.

Marlene stopped listening after she heard “smaller.” The buzz word made her positively squeal with delight. She thanked Claire and dove back into the changing room to finish trying the armload of pants she had picked out from the racks. With the door locked, she lifted up her shirt even further and folded it securely over her boobs. She kicked off the well fitting pants and wedged her arms under her naked belly, cradling it lovingly. She squeezed it tight against her body and hugged it, then jiggled it so she could feel the waves pulsing all through her body. She noted with glee that there was no trace of an offensive red rash where these new pants touched her belly.

“You’re gonna get so big,” she whispered encouragingly. She could practically feel the added pounds already. Her prediction was already not far from the mark.

Minutes later, Marlene bustled out of the changing room and bought nearly every pair of pants she had tried—she even bought two pairs of several styles.

“Are you trying to replace your whole wardrobe or something?” Claire remarked.

“Yep!” Marlene grinned and plodded out of the store burdened with three heavy bags of pants.

“Suite yourself, Lena,” Claire shrugged. “But if you’re done, I need to go in search of that most elusive girl-need number one.”

“Sure thing,” puffed Marlene, “but can we pop over to the cafeteria first? I’m starving!” Her belly rumbled and squelched with emptiness loudly enough for Claire to hear over the growing mall bustle.



Continued in post #4
 

Wetsobem

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excellent start, can't wait to read the rest of her list!
Oh, it has been done for some time now. I posted this on my DeviantArt page at the beginning of the year, and it just took me a while to get around to posting it here :)
 

Wetsobem

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That night, Marlene sat in her darkened room before her glowing computer monitor. Beside the pale orange glow of her desk lamp, the screen was the only source of light. She was seated, pants-less, in her small plastic desk chair. Her still very wide hips spread nearly a foot over the edge of the seat on each side, and her soft cushion of fat just above her ass bulged through the gap between the seat and the padded back of the chair. Marlene’s mostly uncovered belly flowed over her upper thighs, covering her thong panties completely, and it bounced almost imperceptivity each time she clicked the mouse. Marlene was confident in her ability to sit and read in her semi-naked state because Claire had only minutes ago stepped into the shower after her evening workout.

Marlene stared, captivated, at the bright screen as she poured over the latest entries to her favorite fat-forums. She read a number of discussion boards and blogs religiously, though always privately. She doubted Claire would properly understand her perfectly justified fascination with gaining huge amounts of weight and reveling in the piles of blubber that came with it. Unfolded before her was her carefully guarded list. She had spent the last half hour searching tediously through the blogs which had inspired her through the years, yet in none of them could she find a single mention of half the ideas that were written on Marlene’s humble paper. As she read she wondered, were her ideas really that revolutionary, or were they merely misguided? After all, there were thousands of people before her who had devoted years to laying the groundwork for basic gainer guidelines…but, she thought cautiously, perhaps these pioneers were so single minded that they missed some obvious but counter-intuitive methods.

She continued flipping through page after page, skimming over dozens of redundant descriptions of massive feasts and massive gains by a variety of likeminded women, looking desperately but hopelessly for some concrete validation to her endeavor.

“Whatcha’ reading?” Claire asked from over Marlene’s shoulder.

Marlene’s spine froze in shock, and she reflexively closed the incriminating internet browser; her mouse had been hovering over the minimize button since she had opened the page. Cringing with humiliation, Marlene mentally slapped herself for not noticing when Claire left the bathroom.

Claire bent over Marlene’s back wrapped in a bath towel; her coppery hair that was still dripping wet. She had been reading silently over Marlene’s shoulder for over a minute before she had spoken up—hardly enough time to read even one of the articles visible on the screen, but more than long enough to get the gist of the blog.

Not sure whether Claire had seen anything, Marlene whirled around in the chair and blurted, “Nothing! Just skimming over some notes.”

“What class is this for?” Claire asked innocently, and before Marlene could stop her, she plucked the crinkled, spotty sheet of paper from her roommate’s desk.

Marlene stammered in horror as Claire began reading the contents, and she only prayed that some unforeseeable act of god would save her from the embarrassment that would surely follow.

“How to have a…” Claire read aloud before truly realizing what she was reading. At the end of the line, her mouth froze, but her eyes continued absorbing the rest of the page mutely.

“Wow,” Claire said at length. She read over the page several times before handing it back to Marlene, and she was still not quite sure what she should make of it. The two stared at each other bleakly, neither ready to break the uncertain silence.

“Is this for real?” Claire eventually asked.

Marlene opened her mouth briefly, ready to deny, but she closed her lips and instead said sheepishly, “Yeah.”

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Claire asked, a little numb and with little idea of how to adequately respond.

“Umm…a while,” Marlene said guiltily. Without turning, she reopened the browser window she had minimized, and the pages of gainer blogs that she had been reading. Claire stared silently but with no small amount of interest at the page she and Marlene had both been reading moments ago.

“So which one is yours?” she asked after finishing the entire post.

“Hunh?” Marlene had no idea what her friend meant.

“Which blog is yours? Don’t you post to one of these?” Claire asked, genuinely interested.

“N-no, I don’t,” Marlene stammered defensively. “I just read them.”

“Well why not?” Claire persisted. “That’s what this list is for, isn’t it?”

“I…I hadn’t really thought about it,” Marlene said pensively. “It was just supposed to be something for me…private,” she said with an acid in her eyes that she could not hide from Claire.

“Wouldn’t other people want to read it, though? I mean, based on what I just read, they’d love it,” said Claire.

“Well, I…I guess so…?” Marlene agreed haltingly. “Do you think it would be interesting?” she added, a little more brightly.

Claire shrugged and knelt beside Marlene, pushing herself closer to the computer monitor. “Maybe…I’m not really an expert on this—”

“Neither am I!” Marlene interrupted. Claire raised an eyebrow at Marlene accusingly.

“Okay…” she relented, “…maybe I know a little about the subject.”

“Have you ever written a blog before?” Claire continued. She was running with an idea that seemed to be working to repair this fragile situation. “I mean, you are a psych major, after all. Who knows? It might be good for you—sort of like a social experiment!”

In spite of herself, Marlene began to grow exited as Claire’s speech picked up. Still, when she had finished, Marlene withdrew a little by saying humbly, “I wouldn’t go that far…a personal exercise, maybe, but…”

“I really think that you should write about this, though!” Claire insisted.

“You really think it’s that good?” Marlene asked hopefully, excitement building in her ample chest.

“No,” Claire said, rising, “I think it’s one of the weirdest things I’ve ever heard of, but you seem really into it. And if you think that there are other people who might be interested in it, then you may as well record it for posterity.”

Before she had time to blink, Claire found herself smothered in a gigantic, fleshy bear hug from her friend.

“Thanks, Claire,” said Marlene. “That means a lot to me.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Claire said, pushing herself free from Marlene’s suffocating bosom. “Just don’t let me find out about any more of your “private” schemes, okay?”

“Sure thing!” Marlene chimed, and with that she set about typing immediately.

How to Have a Fatter Belly:
My Tips on How to Grow Your Most Valuable Asset!
By LustyLena300

Hi, guys! I’ve been hanging around here for a couple of years, but this is my first real blog. If you like it let me know, but I can handle a little criticism, too……and without further ado, here’s the first entry:

WALK
What did she just say? Move? Physical activity? Why in the world would I want to do anything that might undo all the……but that was exactly my problem: my ass was TOO big. It took all the attention away from my belly……for a couple of weeks now myself……and that’s why it works: low energy, low impact. You won’t lose much weight, but you will lose one big-ASS distraction—pun definitely intended! ……so why did I decide to open with a tip about exercise? I think we all know by now how to eat “properly,” so I wouldn’t be doing anyone any good by outlining my own personal eating regimen on the first day……which is why you need to get started early. Don’t just test it out: go for a long walk, shock yourself, or you’ll never be motivated! Alright, that’s it for tonight. I’ll be back with more very, very soon!​


By the end of the third day after posting, there were already over a dozen comments on LustyLena300’s very first foray into the blogosphere.

“Listen, honey, if I wanted to be a stick…”

“…so what kind of crap is this? Haha!!1!”

“Just go back to reading—we don’t need your kind of help!”

Marlene’s heart was heavy, and she sighed with fatigue of the soul. It was hardly the response she had expected. The tone of her writing had been so pleasant, and she had only been trying to help. Still, attention was attention, even if it was not the kind of attention she wanted.

Marlene picked at sparse remnants of her mashed potatoes at lunch. This was her third full plate, but felt so rejected that she was barely even hungry for dessert. She was slumped sideways in her chair with her head propped up on her elbow. Claire furrowed her brow. Marlene was never mopey; she was almost annoyingly chipper all the time. Something fairly significant had to be troubling her friend, Claire knew, and she could not very well have Marlene flopping around the room half-conscious all day.

“You alright, Lena?” Claire asked sweetly.

Marlene looked up from her empty plate and mumbled something akin to “I guess.” Claire frowned, troubled by her unresponsiveness.

“Okay…then do you wanna go get dessert?”

Marlene shrugged, not really looking at Claire. Her mind was elsewhere. “…Maybe. I’m not really that hungry—”

Claire kicked Marlene’s shin under the table, and tubby melancholic yelped in pain and surprise.

“Nope, definitely alive…” Claire murmured, inspecting Marlene with dramatic scrutiny. “But based on what you just said, I can’t be sure that you’re who you say you are!”

“What?”

“I know my Marlene, and if she isn’t eating—which is never—then there has to be something nasty that’s eating her,” Claire observed, and Marlene blushed at the inarguable accuracy of the statement. “So, come on, girl—what’s wrong?”

Marlene shifted her weight and sunk into the back of her chair; its thin wooden spokes creaked audibly. “You know that blog I wrote a couple of days ago?”

“Yeah,” said Claire. “Didn’t go over well?”

Marlene shook her head. “Not at all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Lena.” Claire stood, and Marlene followed her across the cafeteria to the dessert bar. “I had no idea it meant that much to you.”

“I honestly didn’t, either,” Marlene said. As they talked, she worked her way down the length of the desserts, collecting three small slices of cake and a couple of brownies.

“Why do people have to be mean, Claire? I was only trying to help.”

Claire nibbled a cookie thoughtfully before they sat down again. “I don’t know…a lot of reasons, I guess. Most of them probably think it’s funny, but I guarantee that there are people who read it and liked it. They must have thought that they didn’t need to say anything, or they were just afraid of being shouted down.”

“Oo fink foh?”

Marlene’s mouth was stuffed with cake, and she sprayed a few moist flecks onto the table trying to speak. Claire smiled inwardly at her roommate’s very obviously returning appetite. Claire took its reemergence as proof that Marlene was really benefiting from her encouragement, despite her reluctance to accept it as true.

“I do. You can’t be discouraged by the results of your first try!” Claire insisted. “Now, either you do another entry, or I’ll do one for you—and do it wrong—and embarrass the hell out of you on the internet.”

Marlene laughed aloud before agreeing reluctantly to try again. Claire could tell, however, that the swollen girl was tickled pink through and through that her friend had even taken a passing interest in her private passion.

“So are you ready to go?” Claire prompted, standing from the table.

Marlene bent forward, positioning herself to stand, but as soon as she scrunched her fat folds, her stomach churned violently and rumbled so loudly it startled even Marlene. Claire blinked at her blushing friend as Marlene stood completely, but she knew what was coming.

“Sorry,” Marlene apologized guiltily. She rubbed her belly, which grumbled again more quietly than before. Marlene stuffed the last piece of cake down her throat in a desperate attempt to quiet the greedy beast. “I’m still kind of hungry…mind if I got get more dessert?”

Claire waved her hand indifferently and left. Giddy with ambition, Marlene bounded toward the dessert bar for another slice of cake…and maybe some brownies…oh! And an ice cream cone….

That evening, Marlene opened the website where she had posted the first public entry in her great experiment. There were more comments—not many—but all negative. Saddened but undaunted, Marlene rubbed her bloated lower belly roll for luck and made her second post.


Here goes round two! For everyone who is thinking about trying (or already trying!) my last little idea, this is one piece of advice that you definitely don’t want to ignore when it comes time to buy new clothes for that new butt of yours:

BIG PANTS
But my butt is supposed to be smaller. I don’t need bigger pants. Well, it isn’t necessarily bigger—just BIG……one of the God-given rights of every fat girl is to be able to wear really tight clothes, and I’ll be the first to admit that bulging out of my pants feels hot! But I just cannot do it every day. Who doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I say red marks around my waist SUCK? Plus, if you keep squeezing your stomach around the middle every day, what do you think is going to happen? A hundred and fifty pounds ago, I only used to have one belly. Now I have two. As a big girl who loves her big belly but isn’t ready to walk around with the whole thing hanging out of my pants all day……
……it is kind of a sacrifice, but one that has awesome benefits if you want to have a massive belly.​


Marlene sank into the back of her chair and pushed away from the computer. It was done, and now all she could do was wait for the storm to come. A week later, though, there had been no cloudburst. Marlene had been checking the views and comments daily, and after only the second day, she was shocked by what she found.

“OMG, I hate that, right? I’ve been needing to do something about it forever…”

“lol…right on, girl! Where do you buy yours? I always go to…”

“…and did you mean buy new ones before or after I’ve started taking walks…?”

Each day Marlene’s smile spread a little wider, and all the while Claire watched quietly over her shoulder, not exactly approving of what was going on right in front of her, but fascinated.

In the excitement of her web debut, Marlene had not forgotten about the crinkled list that she always kept stuffed inside her extra-tight bra (an addendum she added to the last entry in response to a question about boob-migration). Every so often, she unfolded her list and checked a box next to a new item. It was her little routine: well in advance of writing about it, she field tested her latest idea for a couple of days. That way, she could even write observations about what worked and what did not, pros and cons, and give an experiential perspective.

To her surprise, Marlene found Claire becoming increasingly interested in her fat-building activities. Even as Marlene’s belly slowly but happily expanded, the two girls still went on long walks together during which, at Claire’s behest, the tubby girl would divulge the details of her latest project. Encouraged by the results she had seen in her butt, Marlene event started going to the gym every so often to try out—though usually only once—this or that. Regardless of the results, Claire was positively thrilled that Marlene went with her at all, and the two soon spent hours every day walking, studying, and or just plain talking. Though Marlene never said anything about it to Claire, she knew that their conversations were a huge part of her ability to type out a long discussion of her simple principles. As time passed, she found herself looking forward to their time spent together almost more than the rising numbers on her scale.
 

Wetsobem

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TAKE ADVANTAGE OF FREE FOOD
This is mostly advice of those ambitious gainers who, like me, are still in college. While it might seem like a one way ticket to embarrassment at first, taking full advantage of the literally endless supply of food available in a dorm cafeteria is a situation that nobody should let go to waste……

STRETCH
And by that I mean your stomach! The more you stuff in your belly at once, the more it tends to settle around your middle……​

“Do you…um…want me to stop you at some point?” Claire asked hesitantly. She eyed the wildness about her friend suspiciously, and something about her attitude made Claire want to stand out of arm’s reach.

Marlene shook her head “no” emphatically. “That’s the whole point! I don’t want to be stopped—I just want to go, go, go until I can’t swallow anymore.”

Since the moment Marlene had decided to push her own advice to the limit, nothing short of a natural disaster could have made her even think twice. She pulled out the flat, elastic waistband of her sweatpants and let it snap audibly against her empty, gurgling stomach. “You don’t even have to stay if you don’t want to,” Marlene offered.

“And I don’t,” Claire returned, seriously. Despite what she said, though, Claire hadn’t eaten in over six hours, and she enjoyed Marlene’s company—albeit especially odd this evening. Without offering another word of explanation, the two girls stood in line for food. For Marlene, it was only round one.

By Marlene’s specific request, they sat at a table directly behind the dessert bar, effectively secluding them from most of the cafeteria. Claire sat down with tray of only a small salad and a cheese quesadilla. Marlene dropped one with three plates filled with mashed potatoes, fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, three cheeseburgers, and two glasses of chocolate milk.

“You cannot be serious,” Claire half laughed, half warned Marlene.

Marlene only smiled and spooned the first glob of macaroni into her mouth. She shoveled gooey noodles and potatoes into her mouth, swallowing even faster than she could stuff them in her watering maw. The burgers disappeared even more quickly, each one lasting only three or four bites before it was gone. She sucked the meat right from the chicken bones, and in only ten minutes, Marlene was chugging her second glass of milk. During all of this, Claire did not bat an eye. That amount of food was more or less normal for Marlene anymore, so it did not surprise her at all to see Marlene heave herself out of her chair to get a second course. This time she came back with enough slices of thick crust triple cheese pizza to form a whole pie, all stacked one on top of the other on a single plate. She also had a second tray brimming with more dishes from her first course; the cafeteria was nowhere near running out of food, and Marlene still felt like her stomach was an empty sack.

She downed more burgers and noodles as quickly as before, chugging a full glass of milk in between, then started in on the pizza. The slices were thick and dripping with grease that dribbled down Marlene’s chin as she stuffed each fat triangle whole into her mouth. Marlene could feel her stomach expanding as she swallowed mouthful after mouthful of delicious, greasy goodies. By her fifth tray, each swallow expanded her belly a little bit. As plate after plate disappeared into her massive gut, the waist of Marlene’s sweatpants stretched and stretched until it was squeezing her more tightly than her oldest pair of jeans. By the seventh tray, the top of her belly smooshed into the edge of the table, forcing her backward and making it a little harder to reach her food. She polished off the last smear of potatoes on her plate with her tongue then placed her hands atop her heaving belly, massaging it gently.

With no food left to distract her, she looked at Claire to find her staring, the half-eaten quesadilla forgotten long ago. Marlene turned sideways out of her chair and rocked into a standing position. Standing, her stomach had stretched so mightily that her shirt, which had been big and loose before her meal, was just shy of rising above the waist of her sweatpants, which itself was lost deep within the central fold of Marlene’s heavy belly.

Claire snapped out of her trance, and her mind returned from wandering places that Marlene could only hope to guess. “Are you ready to leave now?” she asked.

“Of course not,” Marlene smiled. “I’m only getting dessert!”

It had been intentional on Marlene’s part that they sit as close to the dessert bar as possible because she knew just how difficult it would be to move around a crowded cafeteria once she was bloated with main courses. She returned with half a dozen slices of cake and what seemed to be the entire tray of cookies—at least two dozen remaining—and a large bowl of Jell-O cubes that had probably also been intended to serve many students. Calmly at first, taking her time or perhaps merely warming up again, Marlene ate the cookies one at a time. Before she had even finished the first dozen, though, she began stacking the soft, chewy chocolate chip cookies in twos and threes, stuffing as many as would fit into her mouth and mushing them into nothing before swallowing. When she’d finished the last cookie, her stomach had expanded enough to make the tightness of her sweatpants unbearable. Wedging her fat fingers down under the waistband as best as she could, she scooped up the bottom of her belly in her arms and pulled the whole glopping mass out of her pants and dropped it with a muffled smack onto her thighs.

Oh! What a relief it was to have her belly free to expand at its own pace! Her gut rolled onto her thighs, and it was growing rounder and rounder by the second. Her thick love handles pushed down her pants even further, and Marlene’s biggest shirt was unable to cover the bottom of her swollen belly. She beamed with relief and patted the sides of her belly happily under the table. It swayed thickly and made soft gurgles as she jiggled it happily. Without the pressure from her pants digging into her overstuffed belly, Marlene attacked the small slices of cake with a renewed voraciousness. Without even using a fork, she stuffed each piece into her mouth, one by one, and after the last piece had disappeared she sucked the frosting from her fingers.

All that time, Claire was truly astounded that Marlene had been able to eat so much. She had easy downed triple what she would normally eat, which was way too much for a normal person in the first place. She was so inwardly distracted that it took half a minute for Marlene’s weak gestures to get her attention.

When Claire finally did notice, Marlene asked, “Hon, can you get me some ice cream? I can’t really…move.” She was firmly set in her groaning chair, rubbing the sides of her gut absentmindedly.

By way of answer, Claire stood and walked to the soft-serve machine, muttering to herself something that sounded like “freaking weird…” In her absence, Marlene lifted the bowl of red Jell-O to her lips and savored the artificially fruity aroma. Jell-O was her most favorite dessert—except for maybe ice cream…or cake—and her mouth watered anew at the thought to filling her mouth with the jiggling treat.

Instead of using a spoon, she simply tipped the bowl up a little, letting the small cubes tumble into her mouth. They slid down her throat, going straight to her fat belly—Marlene knew they all would stay there! She placed her hands onto her pulsing gut. She could feel them inside her, jiggling, wobbling like her fat belly and breasts with every breath she took. This was the feeling she sought, a feeling of fullness, roundness… Her entire body, every swollen, flabby inch of it was a sexual playground, and her heavy, bubbling stomach was her crowning achievement.

Claire mechanically filled a bowl with vanilla ice cream, swirling the bowl below the flowing tap without really paying attention to what she was doing. Why had she stayed so long? What made her want to see her roommate make a gross, public spectacle of herself? It was not even as if she was really interested in the idea of Marlene stuffing herself until she couldn’t move. In fact, it disturbed her deeply, and she worried about what her friend was becoming. Marlene had always been fat—that was just how Claire had always known her. Fat people tended to eat a lot, or at least it made sense to Claire that they ought to, so it was never out of the ordinary to see her chowing down every waking minute of the day; yet, somehow, over the last few months, Marlene’s mentality about herself had changed. She was slowly replacing other parts of her life with food, and here Claire was helping to further that transformation…

At the thought of her own involvement, Claire realized that the whole time she had been thinking, she had been filling up the bowl with ice cream. She shut off the tap and recoiled at the sight of the overflowing bowl. Cold, white liquid dribbled over her hand, and a substantial amount had dripped into a pile on the floor. There was enough ice cream in the bowl to feed three smaller people, but rather than dumping some of the excess, Claire knew that Marlene would rather have the bowl literally overflowing with ice-creamy goodness.

After the cafeteria finally closed, Marlene staggered back into her room alone. Claire had gone to a meeting before Marlene had finished eating, leaving her to stuff whatever she could down into her stomach before she became too full to stand. She let the door swing closed behind her and waddled slowly to her bed, bearing her massively swollen stomach in her arms. She collapsed onto her blankets, and her belly sloshed up and down, bloated beyond reckoning on pound upon pound of food and at least two gallons of various bubbling liquids.

Marlene had never swallowed so much at once in her entire life. An unwavering smile was plastered to her face; she was practically drunk on self satisfaction as she rubbed and petted her churning belly. The floppy, sweating mound of fat sloshed away from her hands, rocking her back and forth slowly on her screaming mattress.

“Mmmm…so good!” she cooed as she scooped up handfuls of her thick love handles and squeezed rhythmically into the sides of her belly; in and out—in and out. The top of her gut squelched and bounced heavily, squishing like a soft water balloon. Her bottom roll slammed down on her upper thighs and sent pulsing waves of erotic pressure to her fat-covered privates. The whole bed rocked with the pleasure of her moaning.

Claire came back to the room an hour after Marlene, and when she arrived, the light was still on. She found Marlene, her entire gurgling stomach spilling out of her clothes, passed out asleep on top of her sheets. Even while unconscious, Marlene’s hands gently squeezed and stroked her big, soft belly, and she was smiling in her sleep.

Claire quietly changed into her night clothes and sat down on her own bed to read. It was still relatively early in the evening, but she had nowhere else to go that night. She reclined into her pillows silently, thumbing through her notes, her only company the irregular ruffling of a turning page. She did not look at Marlene, and she made no attempt to wake her. After a time, she felt too tired to study any longer, so she turned out the light and went to sleep.

Marlene awoke feeling positively fantastic. She opened her eyes and felt awake immediately: she had gotten a great night’s sleep, had eaten a good meal, and had dreamt wonderful dreams of chocolate rivers and ice cream sundae mountains. She stretched lengthwise from her fingers to her toes then scratched absently at her exposed stomach.

She smiled and closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of her warm, squishing skin in her hands. She patted it in a “good morning” greeting and sat up in bed. Her entire stomach rolled over her pants, covering half of her lap, and it growled at her impetuously to be filled.

Oh, she was ravenously hungry! She did not quite know what to expect hunger-wise by the morning, but clearly her extreme eating the previous day had stretched her stomach enough to feel empty almost right away.

It was daylight, she observed, which meant that Claire was either already in class or working out, and Marlene was appreciative to Claire for having let her sleep. She made a mental note to thank her later. Without further ado, Marlene swung out of bed. Her thick, empty belly swung with her, and she staggered uncertainly for a step or two before she came to terms with balance. Without even needing to check the scale, Marlene knew immediately that her belly had never felt this heavy before—never been this fat before! She slapped it lightly to get a good jiggle out of it as she sauntered to the bathroom. Through Marlene could not see it, her gait viewed from behind had grown markedly sexier over the last few months. Instead of slumping limply, her wide hips and ass swayed in time with her steps, lifting and jiggling beautifully with each footfall. Even Marlene had to admit: her ass, even though the shape of her body made it wider, finally made her belly look good.

In the bathroom, Marlene stripped off her shirt and shimmied out of her tight, sweat pants. In her bra and thong panties, she admired her naked body in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Her legs and thighs were astonishingly well defined for a girl of her sheer size. With pants on, no one would have expected her to have any definition in her calves, not even the small amount that walking with Claire had bestowed. The same was true for her thighs and wide hips. Each of Marlene’s thighs was thicker than her roommate’s hips, but they were smooth and shapely, no saddles bags, and only enough cellulite to meet the requirement of any semi-decent fat girl. Despite the great size of her thighs, to Marlene’s sheer delight, her belly was finally catching up. Marlene’s pink thong was totally invisible, smothered beneath the heavy lower fat roll of her belly. This same roll circled her hips, swelling over the thin strings holding her thong in place and burying them under bloated love handles too thick for Marlene’s hand to grab. The bottom roll was by far the biggest, but the upper roll had grown thick enough to hang completely over her belly button, hiding its depths from view. Thanks to Marlene’s easy-fit waist policy, her belly had made some nominal progress toward collapsing from two distinct rolls into one big gut, but try as she might, by that point the fat was too thick and the rolls too far gone. By all rights, Marlene’s once big—now enormous—breasts should have been hanging to nearly to the bottom of her upper roll, but the strong support and sometimes uncomfortable tightness of her bras kept them from stretching further even as their size and weight increased. Stroking herself pleasantly with her flabby arms, Marlene smiled more broadly: she had done good work.

Marlene turned away from the mirror, and with a little jiggling in her lower tummy, she pulled her scale out from under the sink with her toes. The scale had a three hundred sixty pound limit, and every time Marlene used it, she prayed for that number. Gingerly but shaking with excitement, Marlene stepped on the cold, black foot pad and lifted her stomach out of the way to read the numbers. She waited with baited breath until 344.2 glowed into life on the digital readout.

“Oh…wow,” Marlene gasped. She dropped her belly onto her thighs with a loud slap, and the number jumped up and down briefly.

“Over thirty pounds,” she gaped, squeezing her fat and rubbing herself with glee. “It’s only been, what…two months? Hee hee!” she giggled.

Stepping off the scale, Marlene wrapped her arms around her belly and hugged it with delight; her arms sank into the quivering fat that squished and wobbled as she squeezed. The pressure made her tummy rumble again, and she dropped her fat amidst a flurry of jiggling.

“Every day,” she promised herself, stroking herself from her nipples to the very bottom of her belly. “I’m going to eat like that every day to keep this baby nice and stuffed!” With that, she cleaned herself up as quickly as she could before rushing headlong into a promise-fulfilling breakfast.


Continued in post #9
 

FooMan

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Sep 2, 2007
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You write very well and clearly have a fine grasp of what you want your story do and where it will go. I am eagerly awaiting MORE!
Foo
 

Wetsobem

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Messages
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You write very well and clearly have a fine grasp of what you want your story do and where it will go. I am eagerly awaiting MORE!
Foo
Thank, my good sir :happy:
I certainly hope so, though, considering that it has been completely written for months, haha!
 

Wetsobem

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One afternoon in the last month of the semester, Claire entered her room to find Marlene squatting in front of her computer screen, a position that had been the norm for weeks. Box upon empty box of junk food and piles of crumpled bags and wrappers littered her desk in mounds, slowly but surely building into a wall of past gluttony that enclosed Marlene’s computer nook. Marlene herself sat without pants crammed into a tiny chair which had bent and warped into a carbon copy of every detail of her tremendous butt. Most of Marlene’s body poured over the sides of the armless chair, molding to the edges like putty, and her wide hips were crammed seamlessly between the sides of the narrow space below her desktop. Between the width of Marlene’s fat back and the piles of empty food containers, Marlene’s arms were invisible, and the only defining feature that Claire could pick out to identify her roommate was the back of her head. Her dark, still luxuriant hair was pulled back into a careless ponytail.

“Hey, Lena,” Claire greeted as she unpacked a pair of running shoes from her closet.

“Mmmmhmmm…Oh! Hold just a minute…” Marlene said without lifting her eyes from the recessed computer screen. Claire heard frantic tapping from a hidden keyboard followed by a grunt of exertion before Marlene pried herself free of her desk.

“Ok—sorry! Hey, Claire!” she greeted her roommate eagerly and spun around in her chair.

Claire’s eyes popped. She had seen very little of Marlene in the last week, but even in so little time the fat girl in the chair in front of her had changed noticeably. Marlene’s gut was positively gigantic, and it dominated her appearance. Her fat sat on her naked thighs in a hundred pound lump of jiggly flesh. It flowed out halfway to her knees, and it was so thick that the sheer size of it forced Marlene to lean back in her chair. The shirt she was wearing only covered the upper of her two belly rolls, leaving everything completely exposed below the deep trench where to belly button was buried. The shirt was clearly just too small all over, though, because it was stretched so tightly over Marlene’s melon-sized breasts that Claire could actually see the color of her bra even though the shirt was forest green.

Claire was too distracted by Marlene’s obscene appearance to voice what she had been about to say, giving Marlene the first word.

“What’s up, roomie?” she asked. Her expression, her entire demeanor belonged to someone who seemed to be completely unaware of how uncomfortable her practically naked body might make others feel.

“Well…this is usually when we go walking together, so I came to get you,” Claire said hesitantly.

Marlene blinked for a moment as if she did not understand Claire’s language, but soon the request dawned on her, and her expression became apologetic.

“Oh…I don’t think I can go today, sorry. I took a break just now from talking to, like, five people, and, well…” she trailed off, indicating her glowing computer station with a sluggish gesture of her head.

“Oh, no—no! That’s okay,” Claire said with a poorly suppressed note of disappointment. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m really sorry,” Marlene repeated, slowly wheeling herself back into typing position. “You go have fun, though, okay? We’ll go later—this weekend or something.”

“Sure,” Claire mumbled, putting on her shoes.

It had been nine days since the last walk she and Marlene had taken, and the intervals had been spotty for even longer. She knew that Marlene was not trying to lie to her; she would simply forget she had agreed to do anything at all.

“I’ll be back in an hour or so,” Claire called as she closed the door, but if Marlene had heard, she made no sign that she had gotten the message.

Over the past several weeks, Marlene’s days had passed filled with eating, and her nights had become increasingly engaged in her blog. Her following had exploded in popularity since she started posting her steadily rising weight. Comments and questions came flooding in, and she would spend all night and early into the morning chatting with fellow fat enthusiasts and stuffing snack foods into her mouth. Her posts became less of a self-experiment and more of a semi-weekly ritual that demanded larger portions of her free time in order to keep up with her feedback. Marlene’s newest posts were much longer and much more conversational than her first tentative ventures, and with an increased confidence and blog-writing skill came an increase in her online discussions and a substantial growth in her internet relationships.

When she wasn’t sweating over her latest entry, Marlene held lengthy, deep conversations at all hours of the night with people whom she had never met but who seemed to have a vested interest in the daily workings of her life. It was a new and decidedly good discovery for Marlene, the admiration and above all camaraderie to be found in her online fat-people community. People there wanted to talk to her about things in which she was interested. With the people on the internet, Marlene could chat about where to find the best fat-girl clothes, give people encouragement in weight gaining progress, answer questions and be liked and respected for her size and ideas instead of being belittled for them. For the first time in her life, Marlene felt truly accepted—desired!—for her secrets instead of judged by them.

Oh sure, Marlene and Claire had their walks together, and they shared a room, ate meals together, did homework together… But Claire did not share Marlene’s feelings; she did not share the way Marlene felt about her body or the motivations that got her through the day. Whatever Marlene did about pleasing her belly, Claire merely tolerated it; she did not respect her for it. The people online…they were her real friends.

As these cyber companions became more important to Marlene, though, the parts of her life that had brought them together in the first place—school, her friends, her non-fat related inspirations—waned gradually, taking up less of her time, becoming distractions instead of sources of enjoyment.

Claire dropped in on Marlene again late in the afternoon on Sunday of the same week. She zipped up her jacket and stuck her hands in her pockets expectantly. The weather had taken a cold turn over the last few days, but Claire was still eager to brave the elements for their girl-date. She flung her arms wide, however, upon seeing Marlene hunched over her desk, bare bottomed and typing busily.

“You aren’t ready to go yet?” Claire accused her mostly undressed roommate.

Marlene’s head popped out of her cave, and she spied an irritated Claire. “Ready for what?” she asked, chewing absently on a piece of taffy.

Though it barely seemed possible, Marlene’s giant gut actually looked bigger than it had at the beginning of the week. It might have only been the way she was sitting, but her wobbling fat rolls covered more of her thighs than ever, and her volleyball-sized tits were only kept inside her tiny t-shirt by tension. For the first time since she had known Marlene, Claire’s lip curled in disgust at the sight of her.

“You said three days ago that you would go to movies with me!” Claire huffed. “I reminded you yesterday, and you promised you would go.”

Marlene stared through Claire dumbly, but after an insistent silence, realization dawned on the corpulent young miss and her expression became apologetic.

“Oh no!” Marlene pouted. “I’m so sorry, Claire, but I can’t go. My anthropology paper is due tomorrow, and I’ll never get it done if I spend three hours out at the movies.”

Claire cocked an eyebrow impatiently. “I thought you finished that paper last night,” she said. “I saw you typing it. You said you would finish it last night.”

Marlene’s eyes shifted guiltily. “I did work on it, but I didn’t quite get it done. At about nine last night I remembered that I scheduled an update for yesterday, too, but I hadn’t even started on that yet, and I had, like, five different people to respond to, but as soon as I got online, these other guys…well….”

Marlene’s explanation trailed into silence. Claire’s heart was crying, but her eyes blazed, irate and full of smothered shouts. “You promised we could do this, Marlene,” she smoldered. “Why didn’t you finish writing your paper this afternoon?”

“I had to check my blog for—”

“That’s right!” Claire barked. “You had to check your blog! You had to write something else! You had to check off another item from your list!” she said with venom in her teeth.

“Yeah, of course I did,” Marlene agreed, her attention still caught between Claire and her flashing computer screen.

Claire’s voice died away. She blinked at her roommate, dumbfounded, then stuck her hands back in her pockets and turned to leave.

“That’s alright,” she murmured. “I’ll just go with the girls, instead.”

Still remorseful but with rapidly waning attention, Marlene inched her way back into her internet chamber and said, “I’m sorry, Claire. We’ll do something next week—I promise.”

“I know you do,” Claire said. When Marlene’s back was turned, she swept up her laptop, tucked it under her arm, and left the room.

With her head buzzing, she trudged out of the building and into the brisk winter air. For a quarter mile or so, Claire felt like she was little better than Marlene; she, too, had told a lie. There was no one to see a movie with her. Other than Marlene, Claire did not have many friends, not the sort of friends that she could call at the spur of the moment and ask to go to a movie. Acquaintances in classes, study partners…but little else. After a full circuit of the campus, her head had cleared enough for her to realize she was cold. She ducked inside the campus library when she passed by it, and, with a concern-knit brow, she walked down aisle after aisle of wooden tables and armchairs before she settled into a warm, secluded corner at the rear of the building.

Claire curled into a lonely green armchair and opened her laptop on her knees. She opened an internet browser and began a short search that led her to a website she had only seen once before: it was a fat forum, a discussion board for people obsesses with gaining weight. It was not just any fat-forum, though; it was the home of the blog of LustyLena300. Claire had never read her roommate’s blog. She had never cared to. The subject matter did not appeal to her—she found it exceptionally weird, as a matter of fact—but she had gotten more than enough information from her walk-talks with Marlene to know the contents of practically every post. Nonetheless, Claire had to see this all-important blog for herself. She had to know the face of what—or who—was dragging Marlene away from her.

Claire quickly found that viewing actual posts and comments required registration to the forum. With some trepidation, she registered herself as “cb111,” a name she thought was safely ambiguous. In her soft hole, Claire spent the next hour reading every sentence Marlene had ever posted. She read every blog post, every comment she could find. What she found surprised her. Marlene wrote with an enthusiasm and brashness that she had rarely observed in her in person. Sure, Marlene was chipper, but she had never been so confident, so assertive! Some of the discussion she had with other members…it was no longer a surprise to Claire why she spent so many hours online. In the few short months since she had started posting, Marlene had positively exploded—and not just in weight. She was everywhere, all over the forum, a contributor to discussions and a topic of discussion by others. Mesmerized, Claire skimmed through line after line of her roommate’s contributions to old chats, and she even came across a handful of pictures Marlene had posted of herself—though Claire had no idea when she had taken them—which showed her for all intents and purposes nude in all her fattened glory.

Whilst contemplating one such revealing picture, a quiet “pop” startled Claire. A little window had sprung up from the bottom of her screen, and crisp, black letters greeted her:

“LittleBo-bese: Hi! You new here?”​

Claire panicked briefly and clapped her laptop shut. She caught the screen in her hand, though, before it closed complete and took a deep breath. She realized that in order to see Marlene’s comments, she must have inadvertently signed into a chat room. Claire extended her sinewy neck, scanning the area for any prying eyes, but she found herself quite isolated.

What’s the harm? She thought to herself. There was no way this girl—she assumed it was a girl, anyway—would have any idea who Claire really was. She might be able to learn a little more by talking to her. The keys on Claire’s laptop ticked sharply in the otherwise unbroken silence about her.

“cb111: I guess so.”​

There was a brief pause due to Claire’s own delay in responding, but afterward the conversation flowed quickly and smoothly.

“LittleBo-bese: Cool! It’s nice to meet you!
cb111: you, too. Have you been a member here long?
LittleBo-bese: a year or so, yeah.
LittleBo-bese: I found out about this place from another forum, actually
cb111: you mean there are OTHER forums like this one?!
LittleBo-bese: LOL!!!
LittleBo-bese: …you are kidding, right?
cb111: of course! Obviously
LittleBo-bese: sure, lol
cb111: so what are the people like around here?
LittleBo-bese: we’re pretty nice, mostly
LittleBo-bese: there are a couple of really snooty old-timers, but…meh
cb111: what place doesn’t have those, though, right?
LittleBo-bese: lol
cb111: what do you talk about here?
cb111: so I can decide if this place is right for me, I mean
LittleBo-bese: *shrug* gainer stuff, mostly
LittleBo-bese: are you a gainer? If not, there is still some pretty cool stuff
LittleBo-bese: the “fat and society” board is really nice, I think
LittleBo-bese: there are a lot of great people there who’ll help you feel better about your
body
LittleBo-bese: if you have issues with that; that’s where I started, actually
cb111: really?
LittleBo-bese: yep! If you need help, angelM is the person who helped me the most
cb111: thanks, but I’m ok, actually
LittleBo-bese: awesome—me too now!
LittleBo-bese: I’m officially a SSBBW, and I LOVE it!!!
cb111: ​

Claire had no idea what half of what the girl said meant, but she seemed to be doing alright.

LittleBo-bese: r u just here for the community, then?
cb111: Kind of—a friend actually referred me here
LittleBo-bese: who?
cb111: LustyLena300
LittleBo-bese: … … …!!!!!!!
LittleBo-bese: wait… You’re not lying?
cb111: of course not—why?
LittleBo-bese: holy crap! How do you know her?
cb111: she’s…um…kind of my roommate
LittleBo-bese: NO WAY!!!11!
LittleBo-bese: I LOVE her blog! You HAVE to tell me what it’s like to live with her!
LittleBo-bese: Please!!!! She’s been my INSPIRATION!
LittleBo-bese: do you go shopping with her?
LittleBo-bese: what’s her favorite place to eat?
LittleBo-bese: does she tell you stuff she doesn’t post?......​

Claire slammed the screen closed, cutting off the conversation midstream. It had been too much, and she panicked. After the panic subsided, though, Claire found herself staring blankly at a wall. Marlene was so popular online. Claire had no idea…she knew that there were people she talked to, but she had never thought that her roommate would have had an entire cult of people worshiping her like some fat idol. It was all so strange, and Claire understood very little of it. She felt very small all of a sudden, though, and terribly alone.

After a while, Claire left her seat and returned to the library entrance. Just inside the doorway, there was a wall taken up entirely by a single, massive bulletin board. This board served as a nexus, an intellectual meeting ground for the entire student body. It was plastered from floor to ceiling with posters, fliers, advertisements, and pictures; green papers overlapped pink papers; torn white sheets with fingered bottoms where phone numbers had been taken were all pinned in place, fighting for the coveted space. Anyone could find just about anything to buy, sell, barter, or take for free; furniture, housing, clothing, slave labor, pets, and Help Wanted, all crammed together in a gigantic testament to collegiate frugality. As Claire passed, one black and white advertisement caught her eye. A far away photograph of a duplex apartment above a short description was pinned sideways near the extreme left of the board. Curious, Claire gravitated toward it until she could read the fine text. The building was close to campus, fairly new, and the rent would be less than she paid for board already. The offer was too tempting to let alone, and Claire reached out to snatch the ad before anyone else could take it from the board.

“Oh!” A sharp cry stopped Claire’s hand mid-swipe.

A mousy girl beside her had seemingly popped up out of nowhere. She was short and had a wool cap pulled over her straight brown hair, and she reminded Claire vaguely of someone she knew from her physiology course.

“Where you looking at that, too?” the girl—Shelly, Claire recalled—asked with a note of disappointment.

“Y-yeah…I guess I was,” Claire stammered. “Why…were you interested in renting it?”
 

Wetsobem

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From her chair, Marlene stretched her fat body and groaned with pleasure. A can of soda and an empty half-gallon ice cream box—which half an hour ago had been new—lay empty on her desk, and her warm, heavy belly felt cool on the inside.

“Awwww…that was—hic—great!” Marlene said to herself and patted her bare belly. Her whole body shook every few seconds from a string of loud hiccups brought on from rapidly shoveling ice cream into her mouth and guzzling soda without stopping to breathe. They rippled through her body, and—far from being annoyed—Marlene stuffed her hands beneath her belly so she could feel its entire weight undulate with every hiccup.

Her reverie, however, was short lived. Marlene heaved herself upright and scooted her chair beneath her desk where, for the first time in days, her laptop was closed and powered down. With final exams less than a week away, Marlene at last felt the pressure to hunker down and study. The ice cream had been the third “snack break” Marlene had taken that afternoon, though, so there was little concern that her biggest assets were in any danger of losing their value.

Despite her rekindled diligence, the small number of days remaining in the semester had caught Marlene by surprise. It was a practical wonder, Marlene guiltily admitted to herself, that she had remembered to study at all. For most of the semester, it had been Claire who had goaded Marlene into studying. Usually, they had studied together, quizzing each other, comparing notes, and so forth. Claire had been shirking this duty to Marlene as of late, though, and for the first time in months, Marlene found herself in her room, bored, and studying alone.

Yet Marlene also knew that Claire was not deliberately ignoring her. The previous evening, Claire had asked Marlene whether she would like to go with her to look at apartments in the morning, which was why Claire was still out of the room. Thinking little of it at the time, Marlene had declined, providing the legitimate excuse that she needed to study—neglecting to mentions, of course, that she had spent the rest of the night chatting online. But now that she thought of it, looking at apartments seemed a silly idea to Marlene in the first place. Why would Claire even bother to look for housing off campus when the two of them were living in the same room together next year? Marlene certainly liked living with Claire—even if she had been a little distant of late—and they both liked living close to campus and to a dining hall (which Marlene particularly enjoyed).

She shrugged and returned to her book. Claire always had felt a need to plan things way too far in advance. She was probably looking at places for the two of them to live for the next academic year, a forethought which Marlene found rather sweet. After all, she might not mind living off campus with Claire—just so long as she had plenty of time for cooking. Of course, leases for the next year could not be signed until the summer, anyway, so there was little chance that the apartments Claire liked today would be available five or six months hence. Out of courtesy for Claire’s enthusiasm, though, Marlene decided not to mention that little hitch in the plan to her if she found someplace she liked.

And so it went all that week. Marlene spent all day buried under piles of loose papers as frazzled as her brain, the long quiet hours broken only by an occasional heart-pounding test and a few all-too-short hours of gorging herself until her belly was stuffed so tightly that she could not help but sit and study afterward. Through it all, Claire was conspicuously absent. So conspicuous, in fact, that even Marlene in her food and work induced oblivion felt something akin to abandonment. She was not lonely—how could she be? With all her friends and admirers online, company was but a click away any hour of the day or night. Yet the loss of Claire’s company befuddled and saddened Marlene in way that she scarcely had time to understand.

Where had she gone? That was the great mystery every time Marlene squeezed herself through the doorway into an empty room. Night by night, ever so gradually, even as Marlene packed her own essentials for a month of winter break, Claire’s half of the room dwindled until it was practically vacant. Where it all went, Marlene had no clue. By Thursday, all that remained were the sheets on her hastily made bed, the only indication that Claire actually returned to her room to sleep at all. In the mornings, by the time Marlene awoke, she was already gone—whether on purpose or by necessity Marlene could only guess—only to return late at night, almost too late for Marlene to wait for her. Even then, the roommates’ discussions were brief. When asked where she was all day, Claire responded with an exhausted though not entirely unkind “out,” after which she would promptly clamber into bed and pass out asleep, putting to rest to any further questions.

It was for these reasons that Marlene reacted with surprise and poorly contained gladness to come back from a particularly satisfying lunch to find Claire leaning over the bare mattress that had once been her bed.

“Claire!” she gasped with a smile. “It’s nice to see you when the sun is up!”

Claire turned around with a start and made some reflexive, stiff movements as if trying to hide things behind her back that were not there. “I thought you’d still be eating lunch now,” she said without returning the greeting.

It was nevertheless clear that Marlene had been eating. Her great paunch flopped out of her pants and jiggled slowly with each step, everything below her bellybutton completely uncovered. The actual shirt was so tight in any case that it made very little difference how much of her belly was truly exposed; the rest—from her breasts to her back fat—was perfectly visible. Her crinkled jeans were unbuttoned, but even so her massive love handles rolled over the waistband like a spurting dollop of custard.

“Yeah, I know,” Marlene chuckled. “I guess it was just…” Marlene paused and took a step to the side to so she could see Claire’s bed better.

“Hey,” she began hesitatingly, “how come you took the sheets off your bed? You still have a final tomorrow, don’t you?”

Before Claire could answer, the sheer emptiness of room struck Marlene upside the head. On the mattress behind Claire was a box containing the last of her possessions in the entire room, which she had been trying awkwardly and without success to hide from Marlene.

“Wait—did you pack up everything you brought with you?” She didn’t need Claire’s affirmation to know it was true. “Why?” she went on. “You’re just going to have to pack it all again and bring it back in a month.”

Claire sighed and looked away from Marlene. “No I won’t,” she said. “It’s mostly unpacked already.”

Marlene’s brow furrowed with concern. “I don’t understand. Claire, what’s been going on all week?”

“Listen…you weren’t supposed to be back from lunch yet,” Claire said as she pulled the box to the edge of the bed.

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d notice if I just disappeared while you were out,” Claire said sardonically.

“Didn’t think I’d notice? Claire—”

“Please don’t pretend like you’re all concerned with my life now,” Claire cut in harshly. “You see? This is why I didn’t want to see you before I left.”

“Before you left…? But we’re roommates! I’m going to see you after break, and…what is it?”

Claire shook her head while Marlene was trying to speak. “Not anymore, Lena. All my stuff’s moved, and I’ve already signed the lease.”

“Lease? You’re moving out?!” Marlene gaped. “When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me? You can’t be dropping out!”

“I’m not dropping out!” Claire snapped. “And I did tell you. I told you I was looking at apartments. I invited you to come with me—I even told you when I found one that I wanted to move into as soon as I could! How is this news to you?”

Marlene merely blinked and sputtered, unable to think of anything to say in her defense.

“Exactly!” Claire raged. “You’ve been completely ignoring me for weeks, and I don’t see why today should be any different!”

Marlene looked at the floor sheepishly. “Who are you going to live with?” she asked softly.

“Shelly Binkley.”

“Shelly who? I don’t think I’ve met her,” Marlene asked suspiciously.

“We’ve known each other for a while,” Claire lied.

“Claire…” Marlene pleaded, “…living with someone you don’t even know, and so suddenly… why are you doing this?”

“This is not sudden!” Claire snapped. “And just because you don’t know her—”

“But that’s okay,” she stopped herself mid-sentence, her voice suddenly calm again. “I don’t care, either. Obviously, it doesn’t bother you that I’m not around, and I haven’t exactly seen much of you lately, either, so what difference does it make in the long run?”

She picked up her box and walked to the door.

“I’ll probably see you around, Lena. Have fun bursting out of your clothes,” she said, and closed the door behind her. As she walked away, Claire took a long, ragged breath, but pushed down the lump in her throat. Weakly, she tried to supply herself with a little mental consolation. She had done well; in spite of herself, she had done well. She hadn’t told Marlene how much she had been hurt.

Alone in the suddenly quite empty room, Marlene stood with numb thoughts, her hands limp at her sides. Claire’s bed was just a ratty mattress with scratched-up wooden posts. The floor was scuffed and dusty, the walls bare. She thought to herself, Claire had never brought much life to the room—a few crinkled posters, no bright colors; neat, organized, happy Claire. The bathroom door was ajar, and Marlene went to close it; closing a door seemed like an appropriate thing to do.

In the mirror on the door, Marlene saw a beautiful woman. Beautiful is hardly a word for her…gorgeous? Immaculate? Just looking at her own reflection, Marlene felt warm and wonderful. Her face was sexy and smooth, a symmetric effigy to feminine perfection. A brightness radiated from her skin like warmth from a star, though her eyes were dull, sad, and vacant. Her neck was slim but soft, a Doric pedestal for her head that tapered gracefully into smooth, rounded shoulders, padded with fresh fat. Her breasts were huge, thick globes that bulged over her bra and stretched her shirt to the absolute limit. They rose and fell with her breathing, reluctant to move, but full of bounce and vigor after each breath. Despite the force of her bra’s tightness, their sheer weight dragged her boobs down onto the upper fringe of Marlene’s gut—not a tummy, not a belly, but a big, fat gut. The hem of her small, tight shirt squeezed her waist like a rubber casing, squishing her fat into puffy bulges all around her middle.

In the end, it seemed, Marlene’s efforts to force her belly to outpace her butt had failed, but she had failed magnificently. Each of her thighs was wider than her desk chair on its own, and her widest point was still the positively orbital circumference of her butt. Her ass cheeks remained tight, but they were far from immune to absorbing the tremendous meals Marlene had been packing into her stomach for months. And it was true that the majority of Marlene’s new fat had settled in her belly—and it had been a large settlement. Bulbous love handles oozed over her unbuttoned jeans to rest on her thighs, and the middle of her gut wobbled well over two feet out from the center of her body. Her bellybutton was forever lost in a dark, smiling fold that encircled her exaggeratedly curvy waist. The fat was thick but springy, heavy like dough but responded to touch like gelatin. Left alone, the bottom of her belly formed a half-spherical mound between her legs; it curved downward from her love handles, following the contour of her thighs, and spread itself dominantly over her privates and upper thighs as if they were not even there.

Marlene worked her fingers under the wide, heavy roll, and it covered her forearms entirely. She lifted it, jiggled it with fascination and satisfaction. It was heavy…it was huge, and it felt positively erotic. Her body, all the work she had done to remake herself, it was everything she had dreamed of. It was more, in fact, than she had imagined. The woman in the mirror, a smooth hourglass of graceful curves, supple skin, soft warmth; she was more beautiful than Marlene had envisioned herself with a belly twice the size she now had.

She opened the door again, and dislodged her digital scale from beneath the sink. With controlled motions and without ceremony, she stepped up onto the pad, waited a moment, and then slowly stepped down. She stepped back far enough to see the reading over her own fat and smiled sweetly. “ERR” blinked the blocky grey pixels. The scale had a three hundred sixty pound limit, a bench mark Marlene had unknowingly passed days ago. Callously, Marlene kicked the scale back under the sink. Her weight, as she saw it, was beyond her own reckoning, and that aside, she was content.

Then Marlene saw her face in the mirror above the sink. In the small looking glass, she could see only her face, only the tops of her shoulders, and nothing of her massive torso and lower body. She saw the face of an angel, and she saw the face of a tramp. Both women gazed back through the same eyes, the same bright eyes clouded without direction. Her hair was messy, tangled and knotted, dull from inattention; her shirt was wrinkled and a little dirty, and it was far too tight. Her mouth fell open a little, and Marlene brought the tips of her delicate fingers to her cheeks. How was this her face? How was she so sallow, so drawn? She was unkempt, dingy, and pale.

Marlene whirled out of the bathroom, and fell foot over foot into a room that was still empty, a room that was still silent as a grave. She looked around again and felt the smallness of her surroundings. Claire would not be coming back, she knew. Had she really let her get so far away? She thought back on the long hours she sat motionless, sending thoughts to imaginary places to people she knew by neither face nor proper name. Her body was heavy, yet it felt empty in a way that Marlene could not ascribe to hunger. She felt the weight of her own abandonment—her abandonment of Claire and of her own life—real things, real people and times well spent, abandoned for nothing at all. The weight dragged down her shoulders, and Marlene was unhappy.

Slowly, thoughtfully, she crossed the room to her computer. She sat in her chair, sitting up straighter than usual, and passed her fingers gently over the keys. She stared into the glowing screen, not really seeing it, but thinking, letting honesty fill her thoughts, and like a cool, clear spring, the words flowed.

The next day, the last day of the semester, Claire unlocked the door to her former dorm room and opened it quickly.

“Don’t get excited,” she barked as she backed into the room. “I’m only here to drop off my keys so I can check out.”

She turned around to find no one bouncing up to greet her, no one to beg her forgiveness or to beg her to stay. A twinge of guilty disappointment twisted Claire’s lips, but she said nothing more, and laid her key on her old desk. She noted with some confusion that everything was oddly clean. There were no wrappers scattered on the floor, no smudges on the desks or clothes on the bed. Everything was picked up and neatly filed away. With a final passing glance, Claire’s eyes swept over the room in a kind of sad closure, but instead of ending at the door, they fell on Marlene’s open, glowing computer screen.

What could be there to interest Claire? Claire herself did not know. Perhaps it was a final, curious tribute to the long-gone girl she had liked so fondly; perhaps it was unqualified curiosity. Nevertheless, Claire sat in Marlene’s sagging chair and propped her elbows on the desk to read. At first her eyes roved quickly, searching for big points with a desire to be done quickly, but realization dawned on Claire’s face like an ocean sunrise as the words slipped into her brain.


WHAT IT’S ALL WORTH

Today I finally outgrew my own scale. I tried to check my weight after catching sight of myself in my full-length mirror, you see, because after I saw my reflection, I needed to know…something. Even now, I’m not quite sure what it was. I found my answer by getting no answer to my question at all. Where once I had seen disappointment, in the mirror today I saw beauty; I saw pride; I saw the fulfillment of a promise. It was no ordinary promise: it was the most important promise of all, a promise I made to myself. I saw accomplishment, I saw joy. Even now, I have to say that I love my body, I love myself, but I cannot say that my love is equally shared.

For many of you, I know that I have been an inspiration. I can’t say how many times I’ve gotten wonderful feedback from people who think I’m sexy, people who profit from my advice, and—most of all—people who look up to me. To this last group, I must apologize. I wish now that you had not idolized me. I wish that you had never wanted to be me. How could you want to be me when you do not know the real me? The me you know is a disembodied voice in cyberspace; you may have seen my pictures, but I was never really there with you. And I realize that none of you was ever here with me, either.

Now is as good a time as any to say that this is the last you will be hearing from LustyLena300. I have no more advice to give; I am satisfied with my body, but I have a lot of growth to do in things that matter more. For the past few months, I devoted my life to myself. My happiness is worth the world to me, but I forgot that there are any number of ways to be happy, and some of them—the ones that involve other people—are the most profound. Because I forgot, I hurt someone, a friend—my best friend. For so long I told myself that she didn’t understand me, but now I see that I didn’t understand that my life, my actions, affect her life. I now see how her absence affects me even more.

I told a lie before: I do have one last piece of advice. Make sure you know what it’s worth to you before you devote your entire life the way I did. Is it worth the loss of your friends? Is it worth the loss of your self-respect? From experience, I warn you that it is not. Happy gaining to you all—this is one gainer who is off to find happiness again.​


And that was all. There were dozens of comments, but Claire paid them no mind. What Marlene had written touched her so deeply that she hardly knew what to think. The one thought that managed to peek through was that she knew she could not stay in the room any longer. It was simply too much to bear.

Claire’s hand fell on the doorknob just as it began to turn, and she started backwards in surprise. Marlene opened the door, equally surprised to find Claire in the room, and both girls gaped speechless in the doorway. As rightfully surprised as Claire was by Marlene’s sudden appearance, she was far more taken aback by the way she was dressed. While still gigantic, Marlene’s pants were clean and pressed, and they were actually buttoned over a portion of her gut that Claire had not seen covered in a fortnight. She wore a clean button-down blouse beneath a tight, bright green sweater that both hugged and smoothed her curvy silhouette. Marlene’s dark hair was brushed and styled prettily, and two diamond studs twinkled from either ear.

Claire spoke first, clumsily. “Hey,” she greeted. Her voice was meek and a little hoarse.

“Hi,” Marlene replied. “I, um…I just finished my last final,” she added.

“Yeah? You think you did alright?” Claire asked haltingly.

“Good enough,” Marlene said softly.

Claire mumbled some words of acknowledgment, but her eyes drifted guiltily to Marlene’s open laptop. Marlene saw the nervous gesture and immediately understood what had happened.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to shut you out…I just lost track of everything

Claire tried to mouth something, but what it was Marlene never guessed. “It’s alright,” Claire finally said. “I understand and…I do forgive you,” she added sheepishly.

Marlene’s smile was full of joy and relief. Claire smiled, too.

“I guess this is still it, though,” Marlene said with a sadder smile.

“Mmmm…” Claire muttered, looking at the mostly vacant room.

“You know,” she said, “I did sign the lease…but Shelly hasn’t signed it yet.”

Marlene’s eyes brightened, and her whole body jiggled with glee.

“Do you think you could get used to living without a cafeteria?”

“Of course I can,” Marlene said. “But…in case, I can’t, I can always buy a meal plan. It might even end up being cheaper in the long run,” she observed, laying a hand on her fat stomach.

“I can live with that,” Claire said with a growing smile, “at least for another couple of years.”

“You know, Claire,” Marlene said thoughtfully as she shut her computer screen, “we’re kind of being jerks to Shelly—kicking her out before she even gets a chance to move in.”

Claire thought for a moment then smiled with a copasetic shrug. “I’m pretty sure I can live with that, too.”

***​

“Claire!” Marlene shouted from the bottom of the staircase. She had grown decidedly testy having to wait almost five minutes for her roommate to come out of the apartment.

“Get your skinny but down here!” she cried with her hands cupped around her mouth. She swept a stray lock of shimmering hair behind her ear and scratched at her thigh-slapping belly impatiently.

A muffled “Keep your shirt on!” answered Marlene’s impatience and was accompanied by frantic scuffling and something that sounded like a human knee cracking loudly against a chair. Clair hopped sideways out of the second-floor apartment clad in sky-blue nylon shorts and a t-shirt. She threw the door shut while holding her leg and wincing painfully. Marlene doubled over and laughed aloud, which did little to make Claire hurry down to meet her.

“Heheheh!” Claire laughed mockingly at the foot of the stairs. “Hold still and I’ll kick you in the shin—then we’ll see how you like it!” she scowled.

“Aw, don’t be all mopey!” Marlene chided good humouredly as she opened the building door. “It’s a beautiful day!” she added with a demonstrative sweep of her arm.

It was no exaggeration. The two girls had opened the door into the last dog-days of August, a dry, sunny heat buffered by a gentle breeze. Small, puffy clouds dotted an otherwise clear blue sky, and all along the well kempt street suntanned leaves rustled noisily in the grand, green confusion of a Sunday morning.

“You may as well enjoy it,” Marlene advised with her hands propped on her door-filling hips. “This time tomorrow you’ll be knee deep in books.”

Claire squeezed out the door past her titanic friend and took a deep, calming breath. The air had a scent of warm grass. Claire’s orange hair crackled in the sunlight, reflecting in coppery patches on the side of the apartment building. Squeezing past Marlene had left a red mark on her thigh that had squished against the doorframe. At the beginning of spring semester, there had been a hair’s breadth of room to spare when both girls tried to leave the door at the same time, but eight months later, Marlene’s slow but steady growth had not been the sole contributing factor to the increased difficulty in passing through the portal.

Spending longer hours of the day with Marlene—especially over the summer—would have a profound effect on anyone, and Claire was no exception. She was well aware that she had gained a little weight in the past few months—ten or twenty pounds at most—though not for a lack of attention to fitness. If anything, Claire found that actually having hips that filled out her pants and breasts that required the support of a bra was a welcome change. And what a beauty she had become! If she had been even remotely attractive a year ago, it was no wonder that an hourglass set of curves and a little extra skin on Claire’s genetically blessed frame made even Marlene a little bit jealous. What had taken her roommate months of rigorous effort had come quite effortlessly to Claire with all of the benefits intact.

Not the least of these benefits had been the direct cause of Claire’s tardiness that morning. Wearing the same pair of short-shorts that even now so temptingly revealed her pert, healthy thighs and heart-shaped derriere, Claire had met Anton in the Student Recreational Center at the beginning of May. At the moment, Anton was half asleep in Claire’s bed in naught but his skin.

“Mmmm…usual circuit?” the pneumatic redhead said with sun washed contentment.

“May as well,” Marlene answered, taking the first swaying steps toward the street; Claire followed her in-step.

“Besides,” she added, “I want to pick up a couple of pints of ice cream if we go by the gelato place downtown.”

“I hope you’re not thinking it’s going to last all the way back to the apartment. It’s already—what, eighty degrees out here?”

“Who said anything about it lasting to the end of the block?” Marlene said with a mischievous swat at her rumbling gut, and together the girls set out to enjoy the fine summer day.


The End​
 

Mystic Rain

Mewtwo is life
Joined
Dec 29, 2005
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I like your writing style. It's very engaging.

I wish I could be able to eat like that and be so big like the girls in both of your stories. :happy:
 

Wetsobem

Member
Joined
Jun 25, 2007
Messages
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,
I like your writing style. It's very engaging.

I wish I could be able to eat like that and be so big like the girls in both of your stories. :happy:
Well, thank you very much :happy:

Heheh...what can I say? I had a little more fun with the two stories I have here than with some of my others. Unfortunately, I doubt whether anything Marlene said would be even remotely helpful, but I thought it all made for a cute story, nonetheless.
 

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