BBW, WG, Magic
Another archival tale reposted with permission from the old Pound Positive Paradise website collection
SARA
by Tad E
[I wrote 'Sara' just for fun, after reading several magical weight gain stories on Dimensions. I never expect anything--and certainly not magic--to work in the straightforward manner that those stories describe, so here is my take on this genre. ]
I admit that when I went away to Stanford for college one of my highest priorities was meeting girls. I had been considered a little nerdish at my small town high school, and really hadn't had a dating life. I figured that a couple of thousand miles would give me a fresh start. It wasn't as if I was horrid looking, or didn't wash, or anything.
I was pretty average looking, a little taller and a little heavier than your average Joe, but not so much that I'd stand out in a crowd. I was pretty sure that I was a nice guy, and interesting enough once you got to know me, but I'd never been good at the flashy, pay attention to me-not-him stuff.
Of course, the other challenge was meeting the right women. I wanted someone smart and ambitious, for starters, which was one reason I'd been delighted to be accepted at Stanford. Beyond smart and ambitious however, well I wasn't too proud about it, but I preferred plump girls. Make that "women," not "girls," since by the time you make it to college I guess you qualify as a woman.
Actually make that "women who were at least plump." I wasn't sure if there was an upper limit on how fat someone could be for me to still find them attractive, but I knew that if there was nobody in my small town had been beyond it.
My dorm complex was, unfortunately, mostly male, since it was dominated by, mostly male, computer science students. Two of the six floors were for women, but none of the women there were big enough to catch my eye.
I had heard that a lot of girls, oops, women, packed on the pounds during their first year at college, and I was hoping that at least a couple of the pudgier girls would grow into true beauties by the end of the year.
Actually, my first day there I saw one girl that I thought looked real promising. She was short, barely over five feet, and really cute. I saw her walking into her dorm, licking a double scoop ice cream cone. From my brief glimpse it looked like she had a slight bulge of a tummy, and that her shorts looked pretty tight on her nicely curved backside.
I kept my eyes peeled for her, especially in the cafeteria, but I didn't see her for almost two more weeks. When I did, I couldn't see any signs of a tummy. It looked like her cheeks had hollowed out too. She barely even picked at her Supper, mostly just drinking some tea. I concluded that she must have let herself go during orientation week, and had been dieting ever since.
I, on the other hand, had been doing anything but. I already mentioned that I was a bit heavier than average. I'd become downright fat during grades five and six, but then my parents had put in an indoor pool (did I mention that my parents are quite well off? They are.), and I'd started swimming every morning.
I never became thin, but I did thin out some, and developed wide enough shoulders to help balance off the width of my middle. With loose clothes on I tended to look almost solid, sort of like a football player or something, but without a top on you could tell that my middle was pudding soft. Truth be told I'd never tried too hard to get thinner than that.
My parents had gotten off my case, and some girls thought I looked handsome enough, and I'd never been willing to diet to get thinner than that. Now that I was away from home, away from my parents, and looking to meet a special woman who'd love me for who I was, not how I looked, I was on sort of an anti-diet.
I was happily eating whatever appealed, when it appealed. There was a lot of complaints about food in the cafeteria, but I happily ate it all, along with late night pizza, snacks from vending machines, and hot chocolate and porridge made in my dorm room with my not-quite-permitted kettle.
A few days later I was just walking out of the cafeteria serving line with my tray loaded up, when I saw her again. You can imagine my surprise and pleasure when I saw that she was putting away a huge Supper, including chocolate milk and two desserts. I wondered if she was a yo-yo dieter, but resolved not to question my good fortune while it lasted.
I kept an eye on her out of the corner of my eye as she devoured her food, and quickly left the cafeteria. I finished my meal dreamily, looking forward to the next time I saw her, in hopes that I'd get to see her eat like that again. I had never realized how arousing watching someone eat like that could be. I concluded that if I could just catch her doing that once or twice a week I'd be pretty happy, even if she dieted the rest of the time and never gained weight.
Later that night I was in our lounge, watching the football game on TV, when she walked in, and asked if anybody wanted to work together on the Calculus 102 assignment, and would they be interested in sharing a pizza while they did it. I immediately volunteered for both jobs, mentally doing cartwheels that I had decided to take the more difficult 102 class instead of 101.
We signed out one of the small study rooms off the main cafeteria, and while I looked at the assignment she went out to a pay-phone to order pizza. She was distracted until it arrived, or should I say "they," since there was two medium pizzas.
She explained that there was a two-for-one-plus-a-buck deal, but I carefully noted how much she ate as we worked on the problems. To be precise, she ate seven pieces, one whole medium pizza and one additional piece, over the next couple of hours.
And this was only a few hours after downing a full sized Supper! I was amazed that she could pack that much food into such a small body, amazed and powerfully turned on. Even more exciting was that she was good at calculus! None of the girls in my high school would ever have admitted being good at math.
I was seriously smitten.
During the next week I saw her frequently in the cafeteria, always with a well loaded tray. I also saw her on campus a couple of times, once eating a bagel, once drinking a can of soda. We chatted occasionally at meal time, and the more I got to know her, the better I liked her. I still loved to watch her eat, but frankly I loved to watch her do anything.
The next Sunday we had another pizza and calculus session. This time she "only" downed six pieces of pizza, but I was hardly going to complain. I finished off the other six pieces, but not without some discomfort from my jeans, which were getting a little tight around the waist. The really weird thing was that the pain from my jeans became erotic.
The best I can explain it was there we were, both eating like pigs, eating enough that we were bound to gain weight, and there I was, getting ready to pop out of my pants, and somehow it felt like she was encouraging, or at least accepting my weight gain, and that was, well, pretty wild. It was a good thing that the calculus assignment wasn't too hard, because I have to admit that my mind wasn't too focused by the time we finished it.
I knew my eating was affecting me, and I was pretty sure I could see the effects of all that eating on her, too. The next morning confirmed it, as I happened to be behind her in line for breakfast. She was wearing a tight t-shirt, and I could see that her bra was digging into her sides a bit, making little mounds of fat just above and below it, and then when she sat down I could see a small roll of tummy over the top of her jeans. All that week I kept seeing other signs that her eating was having an impact, and I began to speculate how fat she would be by exam time.
The next Sunday, we worked on calculus together again, but she shocked me by saying that she wasn't interested in pizza. I hardly saw her in the cafeteria for the rest of the week, and when I did, she was hardly eating. I tried to get a chance to talk to her, but it never seemed to work out. When she showed up for our calculus session the next Sunday, she was clearly thinner already. When she again said she didn't want pizza, I asked her if she was OK, because she looked kind of drawn. She replied "Sorry, it's a monthly thing." And I shut up, red faced.
She hardly ate all that next week, too. Meanwhile, as the weight melted off of her, I had to go shopping for new jeans, since my gut had grown to the point that sitting through a class in my jeans was painful. It felt wrong to be gaining weight when she wasn't however, and I didn't enjoy shopping as much as I could have. I realized that much as I enjoyed eating like this, at this rate I'd balloon far to quickly, and I started cutting back a bit. I still ate heartily, just not quite so excessively.
I resolved to bring up her eating habits again on Sunday, and suggest she go see a doctor, in case she had mono or something. She had thinned out more than I thought possible during two weeks, and I was worried about her--not just because I was disappointed, but because I really did like her and wanted to make sure she was OK.
On Sunday morning, however, I met her in the cafeteria, just after it opened for breakfast. She had her tray loaded with everything she could get, and was devouring it like she hadn't eaten in weeks, which I suppose in a sense she hadn't. When I sat down next to her she was just finishing off the last bites.
We chatted, with me carefully avoiding any mention of eating habits. I noticed the way she kept eying my food. Finally I offered lightly "If you are still hungry, I have some instant oatmeal and an electric kettle in my room, I could make you a mug of porridge." I felt vaguely embarrassed to even be offering, and was sure she would turn me down.
She stared at me without blinking for several seconds. The look in her eye honestly scared me, so unexpectedly feral it was. Finally she said, "That would be great, I'm ravenous." The words were normal enough, but the tone was dead serious, and I got the feeling she could hardly wait for me to finish my breakfast.
We weren't really supposed to have women in our dorm rooms. Nobody cared if one stopped by to drop off some notes or something, but shutting your door with one inside was a real no-no. So was having a kettle, however, so we walked quietly to my room, slipped inside, and shut and locked the door.
My roommate went home to Sacramento for the weekends, so we were safe enough. Nervously I went about boiling water and mixing up porridge, as she sat on my bed and silently watched. One by one, she ended up eating four packets of instant oatmeal porridge, before finally saying she was full.
She sat back on my bed, looking flushed and rubbed her stomach. "I shouldn't have eaten so much, so fast," she groaned, "but I was just soooo hungry this morning." The moment was full of tension, and intimacy, then she abruptly announced that she should leave while the hallways were still empty, and walked out, leaving me feeling deflated.
That evening we both carefully avoided mentioning breakfast. She had pizza already waiting when I got there, however, with half of one pizza already gone. She ate the remaining three pieces of that pizza, and one piece of the other one before the evening was through.
We spent more time together over the next couple of weeks, and it seemed whenever I saw her she was eating. By the end of the second week it looked like her jeans were skin tight, her bras were about to explode, and she was developing a second chin.
When she suddenly stopped eating again, I was half expecting it, but I didn't let it go by without questioning her. All she would say was "I can't help it." with such an anguished look in her eye that I didn't push the issue any further.
Another archival tale reposted with permission from the old Pound Positive Paradise website collection
SARA
by Tad E
[I wrote 'Sara' just for fun, after reading several magical weight gain stories on Dimensions. I never expect anything--and certainly not magic--to work in the straightforward manner that those stories describe, so here is my take on this genre. ]
I admit that when I went away to Stanford for college one of my highest priorities was meeting girls. I had been considered a little nerdish at my small town high school, and really hadn't had a dating life. I figured that a couple of thousand miles would give me a fresh start. It wasn't as if I was horrid looking, or didn't wash, or anything.
I was pretty average looking, a little taller and a little heavier than your average Joe, but not so much that I'd stand out in a crowd. I was pretty sure that I was a nice guy, and interesting enough once you got to know me, but I'd never been good at the flashy, pay attention to me-not-him stuff.
Of course, the other challenge was meeting the right women. I wanted someone smart and ambitious, for starters, which was one reason I'd been delighted to be accepted at Stanford. Beyond smart and ambitious however, well I wasn't too proud about it, but I preferred plump girls. Make that "women," not "girls," since by the time you make it to college I guess you qualify as a woman.
Actually make that "women who were at least plump." I wasn't sure if there was an upper limit on how fat someone could be for me to still find them attractive, but I knew that if there was nobody in my small town had been beyond it.
My dorm complex was, unfortunately, mostly male, since it was dominated by, mostly male, computer science students. Two of the six floors were for women, but none of the women there were big enough to catch my eye.
I had heard that a lot of girls, oops, women, packed on the pounds during their first year at college, and I was hoping that at least a couple of the pudgier girls would grow into true beauties by the end of the year.
Actually, my first day there I saw one girl that I thought looked real promising. She was short, barely over five feet, and really cute. I saw her walking into her dorm, licking a double scoop ice cream cone. From my brief glimpse it looked like she had a slight bulge of a tummy, and that her shorts looked pretty tight on her nicely curved backside.
I kept my eyes peeled for her, especially in the cafeteria, but I didn't see her for almost two more weeks. When I did, I couldn't see any signs of a tummy. It looked like her cheeks had hollowed out too. She barely even picked at her Supper, mostly just drinking some tea. I concluded that she must have let herself go during orientation week, and had been dieting ever since.
I, on the other hand, had been doing anything but. I already mentioned that I was a bit heavier than average. I'd become downright fat during grades five and six, but then my parents had put in an indoor pool (did I mention that my parents are quite well off? They are.), and I'd started swimming every morning.
I never became thin, but I did thin out some, and developed wide enough shoulders to help balance off the width of my middle. With loose clothes on I tended to look almost solid, sort of like a football player or something, but without a top on you could tell that my middle was pudding soft. Truth be told I'd never tried too hard to get thinner than that.
My parents had gotten off my case, and some girls thought I looked handsome enough, and I'd never been willing to diet to get thinner than that. Now that I was away from home, away from my parents, and looking to meet a special woman who'd love me for who I was, not how I looked, I was on sort of an anti-diet.
I was happily eating whatever appealed, when it appealed. There was a lot of complaints about food in the cafeteria, but I happily ate it all, along with late night pizza, snacks from vending machines, and hot chocolate and porridge made in my dorm room with my not-quite-permitted kettle.
A few days later I was just walking out of the cafeteria serving line with my tray loaded up, when I saw her again. You can imagine my surprise and pleasure when I saw that she was putting away a huge Supper, including chocolate milk and two desserts. I wondered if she was a yo-yo dieter, but resolved not to question my good fortune while it lasted.
I kept an eye on her out of the corner of my eye as she devoured her food, and quickly left the cafeteria. I finished my meal dreamily, looking forward to the next time I saw her, in hopes that I'd get to see her eat like that again. I had never realized how arousing watching someone eat like that could be. I concluded that if I could just catch her doing that once or twice a week I'd be pretty happy, even if she dieted the rest of the time and never gained weight.
Later that night I was in our lounge, watching the football game on TV, when she walked in, and asked if anybody wanted to work together on the Calculus 102 assignment, and would they be interested in sharing a pizza while they did it. I immediately volunteered for both jobs, mentally doing cartwheels that I had decided to take the more difficult 102 class instead of 101.
We signed out one of the small study rooms off the main cafeteria, and while I looked at the assignment she went out to a pay-phone to order pizza. She was distracted until it arrived, or should I say "they," since there was two medium pizzas.
She explained that there was a two-for-one-plus-a-buck deal, but I carefully noted how much she ate as we worked on the problems. To be precise, she ate seven pieces, one whole medium pizza and one additional piece, over the next couple of hours.
And this was only a few hours after downing a full sized Supper! I was amazed that she could pack that much food into such a small body, amazed and powerfully turned on. Even more exciting was that she was good at calculus! None of the girls in my high school would ever have admitted being good at math.
I was seriously smitten.
During the next week I saw her frequently in the cafeteria, always with a well loaded tray. I also saw her on campus a couple of times, once eating a bagel, once drinking a can of soda. We chatted occasionally at meal time, and the more I got to know her, the better I liked her. I still loved to watch her eat, but frankly I loved to watch her do anything.
The next Sunday we had another pizza and calculus session. This time she "only" downed six pieces of pizza, but I was hardly going to complain. I finished off the other six pieces, but not without some discomfort from my jeans, which were getting a little tight around the waist. The really weird thing was that the pain from my jeans became erotic.
The best I can explain it was there we were, both eating like pigs, eating enough that we were bound to gain weight, and there I was, getting ready to pop out of my pants, and somehow it felt like she was encouraging, or at least accepting my weight gain, and that was, well, pretty wild. It was a good thing that the calculus assignment wasn't too hard, because I have to admit that my mind wasn't too focused by the time we finished it.
I knew my eating was affecting me, and I was pretty sure I could see the effects of all that eating on her, too. The next morning confirmed it, as I happened to be behind her in line for breakfast. She was wearing a tight t-shirt, and I could see that her bra was digging into her sides a bit, making little mounds of fat just above and below it, and then when she sat down I could see a small roll of tummy over the top of her jeans. All that week I kept seeing other signs that her eating was having an impact, and I began to speculate how fat she would be by exam time.
The next Sunday, we worked on calculus together again, but she shocked me by saying that she wasn't interested in pizza. I hardly saw her in the cafeteria for the rest of the week, and when I did, she was hardly eating. I tried to get a chance to talk to her, but it never seemed to work out. When she showed up for our calculus session the next Sunday, she was clearly thinner already. When she again said she didn't want pizza, I asked her if she was OK, because she looked kind of drawn. She replied "Sorry, it's a monthly thing." And I shut up, red faced.
She hardly ate all that next week, too. Meanwhile, as the weight melted off of her, I had to go shopping for new jeans, since my gut had grown to the point that sitting through a class in my jeans was painful. It felt wrong to be gaining weight when she wasn't however, and I didn't enjoy shopping as much as I could have. I realized that much as I enjoyed eating like this, at this rate I'd balloon far to quickly, and I started cutting back a bit. I still ate heartily, just not quite so excessively.
I resolved to bring up her eating habits again on Sunday, and suggest she go see a doctor, in case she had mono or something. She had thinned out more than I thought possible during two weeks, and I was worried about her--not just because I was disappointed, but because I really did like her and wanted to make sure she was OK.
On Sunday morning, however, I met her in the cafeteria, just after it opened for breakfast. She had her tray loaded with everything she could get, and was devouring it like she hadn't eaten in weeks, which I suppose in a sense she hadn't. When I sat down next to her she was just finishing off the last bites.
We chatted, with me carefully avoiding any mention of eating habits. I noticed the way she kept eying my food. Finally I offered lightly "If you are still hungry, I have some instant oatmeal and an electric kettle in my room, I could make you a mug of porridge." I felt vaguely embarrassed to even be offering, and was sure she would turn me down.
She stared at me without blinking for several seconds. The look in her eye honestly scared me, so unexpectedly feral it was. Finally she said, "That would be great, I'm ravenous." The words were normal enough, but the tone was dead serious, and I got the feeling she could hardly wait for me to finish my breakfast.
We weren't really supposed to have women in our dorm rooms. Nobody cared if one stopped by to drop off some notes or something, but shutting your door with one inside was a real no-no. So was having a kettle, however, so we walked quietly to my room, slipped inside, and shut and locked the door.
My roommate went home to Sacramento for the weekends, so we were safe enough. Nervously I went about boiling water and mixing up porridge, as she sat on my bed and silently watched. One by one, she ended up eating four packets of instant oatmeal porridge, before finally saying she was full.
She sat back on my bed, looking flushed and rubbed her stomach. "I shouldn't have eaten so much, so fast," she groaned, "but I was just soooo hungry this morning." The moment was full of tension, and intimacy, then she abruptly announced that she should leave while the hallways were still empty, and walked out, leaving me feeling deflated.
That evening we both carefully avoided mentioning breakfast. She had pizza already waiting when I got there, however, with half of one pizza already gone. She ate the remaining three pieces of that pizza, and one piece of the other one before the evening was through.
We spent more time together over the next couple of weeks, and it seemed whenever I saw her she was eating. By the end of the second week it looked like her jeans were skin tight, her bras were about to explode, and she was developing a second chin.
When she suddenly stopped eating again, I was half expecting it, but I didn't let it go by without questioning her. All she would say was "I can't help it." with such an anguished look in her eye that I didn't push the issue any further.
