BBW Something's Gotta Give - by StrugglingWriter (~BBW, ~XWG)

Discussion in 'Recent Additions' started by StrugglingWriter, Feb 19, 2011.

  1. Jan 5, 2019 #381

    StrugglingWriter

    StrugglingWriter

    StrugglingWriter

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    Mmmm, I dunno. A few bites of steak, picking at a plate of pasta, one dollar menu item. There was the McDonald's shake, which is definitely filling, and a pie on top of it. But she doesn't actually eat until 10 or so. So, respectfully, I'm not sure this is the night she shows off any new limits.

    I imagine we all have narratives about ourselves and our families that are untrue. We hide lots of things from children. I really looked forward to crafting a scenario in which Kelly has a radical re-writing of hers. It's that kind of rewrite about the past that can lead to a radical change in the trajectory of her future ....
     
  2. Nov 6, 2019 #382

    Imp

    Imp

    Imp

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    BOOK 3

    Mid-January, Kelly Kegs showed up on campus 40 pounds lighter.

    Or something like that. The first thing she did when she made it back to town was to key into the Phi Gamma house and excitedly bounce her way up to the third floor for the official reading.

    181.6.

    Was it 35 pounds? 38? Which scale? What day? To Kelly, forty sounded like a nice round number to tell people when they asked. To her she was more excited about the 181: that was below where she was before she’d taken that fateful trip to the West Coast—the one that had blown her summer weight-loss tradition and taken her weight problems to another level.

    “What did you do to my body!?”

    That was the first thing her personal trainer Jacquie had said back in December, back in Tennessee, when she saw her.

    Jacquie didn’t have all that much room to speak herself. She was a short Black woman with smallish boobs, wide hips, thick thighs, smallish waist, and a round ass, and all of that had filled out substantially since Kelly had last seen her. It was a full extra 25 pounds if it was an ounce.

    “I had a baby,” she’d explained. “That’s not an excuse. It’s a reason. But I’m clawin’ back. I’m clawin’ back.” Kelly came to find out over time it wasn’t an excuse at all: Jacquie’d been on three months of bedrest before a touch-and-go delivery, then stuck in the hospital for another two months after. But everyone was OK now, and Jacquie kept talking about having another one, despite having lost just half the weight she’d gained.

    It all blew Kelly’s mind. Having babies seemed a lifetime away.

    After beginning her winter break by dropping her mother off at the treatment center in Nashville, Kelly had returned straight home. Not to the house, of course, which was now completely shut down and boarded up. To their new “home” in downtown Jackson, where her mother had set them up in a small apartment, which Kelly made ground zero for her winter break focus on nothing but diet and exercise.

    “Oh my God, Kelly! Is that what you call a workout? You’ve gotta move that fat ass to lose it, Honey!”

    Jacquie never was one to mince words.

    But she was right. Kelly hadn’t realized how much her high intensity workouts from the summer after graduating high school had deteriorated into “lollygagging,” as the locals (including Jacquie) were apt to call it. She figured it out, though, that very first training session, where Jacquie pushed her so hard she spent ten minutes afterward dry heaving in one of the locker room stalls.

    The one thing Jacquie had been complimentary about was Kelly’s weightlifting.

    “You’re a monster, Babe!” Jacquie shouted from behind Kelly that first day, where Jacquie she had her doing leg presses. “I guess one good thing came out of carrying around all that extra blubber!”

    Blubber. That one had hit her feelings hard. So she hit the stack that much harder, using her emotion for motivation the way Jacquie had taught her to last year. The routine, the mental fitness, it all came back to her, like riding a bike.

    And she was a monster. She approached weight loss with the same whole-hearted passion she’d pursued it the summer after high school. And with the same passion she’d pursued her Phi Gamma dreams by hitting the books the summer after.

    That whole-hearted passion was how Kelly found the phone again.

    There are of course only so many hours a day one can conceivably work out. And as Kelly well knew it was too easy to spend the rest of that time putting those Calories back by eating. If you’re moving your mouth talking, you’re not moving your mouth eating. And besides, Kelly’s ambition in life wasn’t to be smack in the middle of Phi Gamma central so she could be the Iconoclast Nun of All Things Fitness—even if over the break all she he did was hide herself in the Curves and in the apartment so no one she knew in Jackson might run into her and see how fat she’d gotten.

    Kelly needed people.

    So she reached out. Marla and Monet, Elektra, Jenn and Crystal—anyone she needed to bring up to speed on the outcome of that fateful Phi Gamma review at the end of the fall semester. That included picking up relationships she’d dropped since last Spring. There was also plenty about her living arrangements, her transition back to the social committee, and, of course, Lierman’s new advisory council on diversity to discuss with Lindsey. That was far from a social endeavor: that relationship was still strained, and most of the time things got referred over to Kelly Johnson or to Brittney Shore.

    There was Gail, of course, who chatted for hours at a time about the West Coast holiday trip with their Rise-N-Shine friends and even longer about David, who suddenly seemed again to be the apple of her eye.

    And, there were the phone calls with her mother at the alcohol treatment facility. Those were short, and scheduled, and on the facility’s phone at that, and her mother didn’t ever have much to say other than, “Well, it isn’t Club Med, I can tell you that.” In turn, Kelly didn’t have much more to tell her than the specifics of the latest work out or the reading on the new digital scale she’d put in the bathroom a couple weeks into her stay.

    “Let me order it so I can make sure it goes high enough for me,” Elizabeth had told Kelly on her first call out of the facility after a mandatory incommunicado first week her first week in rehab. “I’m gonna be the one needing that in a month or two.” It wasn’t until it arrived a few weeks later Kelly realized the “high capacity digital scale” she’d bought read all the way up to 550 pounds—200 pounds more than Elizabeth had said she weighed when she checked into the facility. Her mother was as massive a woman as Kelly had ever met. She couldn’t imagine what someone with another 200 pounds on her would look like!

    Thank God she was taking care of things before they got that far.
     
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  3. Nov 9, 2019 #383

    Imp

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    But the person Kelly talked to most was Wade.

    Sort of.

    Those calls were made. Those calls were even answered. But there wasn’t much said. Not on Wade’s part, anyway. Kelly chattered as much and as long as possible about her workouts, her weight loss progress, her bra size, her workout clothes, her mom (as much as she could find out), her upcoming duties with Phi Gamma (as much as she could find out), her hair, her manicure, her pedicure, even her period (a light one, an off-schedule one, again)—anything to keep him on the line and keep him around and talking.

    Because questions weren’t getting anywhere at all.

    Wade was spending the winter break in his home in Boerne (Burr-nee), Texas. If she hadn’t looked it up on Wikipedia, she wouldn’t have known anything about it all. Wade was just as mum on his parents (“They’re cool—not much to say”), his friends (“Shitkickers, mostly,” whatever that meant—supposedly some kind of euphemism for cowboys), and even his workouts and his weight (gains, of course, especially in the weight room). If she could keep him on the phone an hour, or hear him say something with more than two sentences strung together, she felt like she accomplished something.

    She did see him in person. Once. Early on. The Houndz played early in the bowl season, in Mobile. She drove down the day before (working out before she left and at the hotel) to discover he’d already been there two days. That pissed her off enough she considered cutting him off, but that would have meant cutting herself off. And she had a new body to show off, to boot. She did in her hotel room, where she enjoyed both privacy and comfort for the first time since Vegas.

    “Fifteen pounds?” he asked when she told him. “That’s cool. You should send me pictures.” That’s it!? You know you’re looking at me naked right now, right? As for Wade, Kelly noticed he’d lost definition just about everywhere other than his pecs and legs, and he was definitely thickening around his middle. That definitely sucked some of the hot out of his hotness.

    Just a little some, but still some.

    Kelly made sure to meet him for her goodbyes at the bus, where she could say hi to the guys she knew and see what impression she made on the rest. There was a catcall or two and even a “Woof! Woof!” But nothing like the pure admiration she remembered from over the summer, the day she’d first met Wade outside of his dorm. That was a little disappointing. She made up for it by planting on him the hottest wettest kiss on him she could, in plain sight of the bus. The bus exploded with so much noise it practically rocked. She smiled and swiveled her hips a little on purpose as she walked back to the Escalade. She’d seen Wade blush, but never that hard.

    After she got back to Jackson, phone calls turned into Skype calls. That worked for a while: Wade got a little more ... flirty, with more than a few compliments peppered between his repeated requests for her to take off her shirt. That was an Elizabeth Kingsley—er, Bussey—nono from way back, and Kelly happened to agree: her naked form didn’t need to be flying around the interwebs along with all those other pictures that had made the rounds out there. Somewhere.

    But she wasn’t 15 years old anymore, either. So, she took the pictures, with her new high definition web camera she bought for just that purpose. From just about every angle, too, to aid her weight loss, because she wanted to see the naked truth on every part for herself. And, it didn’t hurt her ego every now and then to find a shot or two she felt was sexy. It took a few days for her to build her confidence, both with her body and with the quality of the images she could produce. She picked the one that made her look the fattest and made it her new all-in-one computer’s wallpaper, then saved the rest of them to her Before and After folder on her OneDrive. She didn’t wind up sending Wade any of them.

    Though more and more Kelly was getting up to speed on consumer electronics technology, Wade certainly wasn’t. He had about as much patience for holding up his phone for Skype video as he did for holding a phone to his ear. And wherever he was in Boerne, Texas, cell phone signal (and even worse, data) apparently had yet to catch up with the new millennium. Phone calls and Skype tapered down pretty soon, and before long they were conducting winter break in about the same fashion they carried on at school. By text.

    Except this time their next fishing trip was a lonnnng time away.
     
  4. Nov 12, 2019 at 1:38 AM #384

    Imp

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    When she hit 195 she broke down and sent Wade a faceless bra and panties shot. For anticipation.

    Kelly did get out of town one other time: she visited her mom, still in the hospital in Nashville, for a sad hour, on Christmas Eve. Mom looked puffy but well, and even cheerful about the prospect of having to stay two weeks longer than she had intended. “The food is more disappointing than I even expected,” she opined. “But it’s enough to break the monotony.” She was holding the sides of her belly good-naturedly, apparently implying she’d had more than her share of that kind of diversion. “One thing at a time, I guess.”

    From Nashville it was a private jet to Manhattan (a purchased seat—Daddy didn’t have that much money), where she spent half of Christmas Day with her father. When she wasn’t in a taxi (actually, a private car, because Daddy had too much money for anything as pedestrian as just a taxi), she spent half of the time on his dusty Bowflex while he spent the other half on his phone. Actually, it didn’t feel too different from Christmas at home—despite the high rise city views, minimalist modern décor and furnishings, absence of Christmas gifts (except for the Apple watch), and the (so delicious!) New York Chinese delivery. And, her dad had loads of good things to say about her weight loss progress, and absolutely nothing at all to say about the bills she’d been running up on the credit cards.

    But otherwise Kelly had her life exactly the way she knew she needed it: focused devotion to just one thing at a time—in this case, the all-encompassing task of weight loss. She filled her not workout hours post-Christmas in the apartment, eating hardly anything except her weight loss go-tos: protein drinks, protein bars, and high fiber vegetables. When she wasn’t on the phone, she was online, constructing a weight loss blog on (a new, real) Tumblr (username “CrackTheCode”, Twitter handle “@CrackTheCode”) and a vlog on YouTube (“CrackTheCode24-7”). She found herself thanking herself for all those hours struggling with multimedia platforms in her Basketweaving course, which not only had improved her proficiency with technology but had also cured her of the self-consciousness she felt seeing and hearing herself on camera. She whiled away hours at a time: headshot video monologues on camera, mostly, with occasional videography documenting her shrinking shape and, for extra fun, a couple of clothes- haul fitting sessions, one that she even performed breathlessly on the fly in the local Macy’s dressing room. Fully clothed, of course! She was, after all, Elizabeth Bussey’s daughter, and there was always The Code to think about.

    It took her many hours over several days to set it all up across the various platforms, designing skins and memes just so and coordinating them just right. She’d already made her first video (a sketchy one at that, which was why she ordered all the new electronic equipment): her introduction, her goals, her frustrations, her plans, her desire for accountability and support—and of course her initial weigh-in and measurements (clothed: not even her bare tummy was exposed). She studiously avoided measuring her bust (“Sorry, ya’ll,” she told her would-be fans, “but it’s not that kind of video!”):

    Chest: 38 inches

    Waist: 34 inches

    Hips: 45 inches

    Upper Thighs: 43 Inches

    Lower Thighs: 29 Inches

    Of course, that was for the camera. Her bust came in at a staggering 47 inches (cup size GG!), and that with her at less than 200 pounds. As amazing as she found that to be, she spent her time on camera professing how astounded she was at her hips and thighs. (“That’s almost four feet! How did I not know? How could I have ever let it get that far!?”)

    She was proud of the final product. She published it, found a few other weight loss channels to subscribe to, posted a few comments on their channels to be polite (but didn’t watch a single video), and sat back and waited for something in return.

    They rolled in almost immediately: the three girls she’d subscribed to added her blog and channel and posted polite comments, too.

    And then there was nothing else.

    That wasn’t the social media response she’d come to expect. In fact, it wasn’t the kind of response she’d come to expect anywhere. As the days went on and a couple of more vanilla comments went up, she devoted more and more time to searching out and subscribing to other blogs, tweaking her product and videos to match the more popular ones, experimenting with an online personality—all those things geared toward driving internet traffic that she used to make (good-natured, of course) fun of other people for doing (and that Phi Gamma would have disdained other people for doing), she started doing. But it was still just another weight loss blog. Screw subscribers! This was about her and her weight loss process, not some drive for popularity.

    And hey, at least she wasn’t eating.

    She could, of course, have linked in all of her real pages (like her facebook page with 450 friends) and mined a ton of followers in a heartbeat. During some of her more impatient or, perhaps, conceited moments, she considered it. But those thoughts went nowhere: she had next to zero temptation about keeping people she knew up-to-date on all the ins and outs of her body.

    After all, she’d had more than enough of that with those Fakebook pages last Fall.

    So as her return to school crept closer and the anticipation of returning to the life she loved—the one she’d had her freshman year, at the center of Phi Gamma, before the suspension—took over, she let the blog and her illusions of internet weight loss stardom slip behind her with barely a thought. She announced her hiatus into the infinite beyond of the internet with a final measuring video (Chest 36, Waist 30, Hips 39, Upper Thighs 39, Lower Thighs 27), declaring victory after 7 weeks with “40 pounds” and 18 inches and vowing a dramatic return with even stronger results in the not-too-distant future.

    Wednesday, January 15 she loaded up the Beemer with her electronics and her exercise equipment and her new clothes and her toiletries, and after a short and frustrating Skype session with Wade, and after a text to her mother (still at last word yet to be released from treatment up in Nashville), made the long drive back to Georgia, and back to Gail’s empty (it turned out) house. She crashed on her bed, recently her mother’s, in her still absolute mess of a room (her mother was never this disorganized growing up!) and slept in late the next morning, skipping her workout and skimping on breakfast to compensate (full fat blueberry bagels was the only thing she could find even close to anything she would eat) before devoting the full afternoon to getting herself ready for her Spring debut. Forty pounds made getting ready a special treat, something she’d been dying to do for a month, the moment she’d moved into her mother’s apartment.

    Because today she’d be trying on again all those clothes she’d bought over the summer in Las Vegas.

    If anything, they were a little loose! Kelly found herself covetously regretting that she’d altered those outfits for Jenn and Crystal for Rush. But that was just a minor dent in what felt like a brand new haul. She had what she needed: a silk blouse and a knee-length, not-quite-pencil skirt to represent Phi Gamma at the 4:00 meeting of Spring Rush representatives. It was an outfit she wouldn’t have dared try to wear two months ago, even if it had been her size.

    She was so giddy with excitement she skipped her way out of the house (best as her skirt would allow, that is). She couldn’t wait for everyone to see all the weight she’d lost!
     

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