1
Sarah woke up to the glare of sun against her face. What a party that
had been last night! It must have been, judging from her aching body.
Reluctantly, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up.
Oof! What the heck? She looked down at her stomach. Where she
remembered a flat, taut midriff, there was a small but noticeable roll
of flesh, pushing out against her satin panties.
"What in the world have I done to myself?" she thought. It seemed to
be Sunday morning; she tried to remember what she had done last night.
She was going to go out to the Oasis with Connie. She sat, bemused,
when she noticed a black plastic trash bag at her feet. She looked
inside.
She saw various containers of the most fattening food, all empty.
There were at least 3 pints of high butterfat ice cream, and 5 (five!)
empty cans of cake frosting, mostly chocolate. There were dozens of
empty candy bar and snack cake wrappers. All sweets, except for a box
of crackers and some cheese.
Her face flushed as she contemplated this incriminating trash. She
felt embarrassed, excited and hungry all at the same time. Hungry?
How odd that she should feel that way after looking at trash, but,
after all, she usually woke up feeling hungry on the weekends. This
was different, though; she felt ravenous.
She tried to push that thought away from her as she got up to go to the
bathroom. She thought she could feel the extra weight as she got to her
feet. She couldn't help herself; now she had to find out how much she
weighed.
She entered the bathroom and stepped on the scales. Five pounds
heavier! Was that possible? She got that flushed feeling again.
Turning to the full-length mirror on the door, she gazed at her body as
if it were a newly-found piece of jewelry. Five pounds had left a soft
layer covering her entire body. She touched her face. Her formerly
sharp jaw line was softer, more feminine; she had to admit, it was
prettier. She smiled to herself. Dimples, too!
The more she looked, however, the more critical she became. What would
her mother say? What would her friends say? She knew that fat was
gross; she had to banish it from her body! And yet . . . She turned
sideways. Her profile was more curvy, more womanly, than before. Not
perfect, of course. That tummy roll looked small now, and her ribs
were visible above it.
Wait a minute! What was wrong with ribs?
Then she remembered the previous night all at once. She had met a man
at the Oasis; they had danced, kissed and fallen into lust. His name
was Jim, Joe, something like that. He was tall, a bit stocky, with
thick, muscular arms and shoulders. While driving over to her place,
they stopped at the Safeway and loaded up on goodies. That was his
idea.
Then, they came home and had a one-on-one orgy. She remembered him
ladling frosting into her mouth and then kissing her. The sweet
chocolate flavor, his probing tongue and lips, and his hot, stiff organ
ramming her had all blended into one warm, caressing sensation.
She shook her head as she snapped back to the present. Then she had a
wicked thought: What would five more pounds look like? As she imagined
another eating binge, she became flushed again. She saw the red creep
over her face and down her neck, and she knew what it was: she was
extremely horny!
She finished washing up, then went into the kitchen. She felt her
breathing go fast and shallow as she saw the full cans of frosting,
boxes of Twinkies, and piles of candy bars on the counter. She looked
in the freezer; yes! There were four big, round cartons of ice cream!
She grabbed a trash bag from under the sink and filled it with the
goodies. She rushed back into her bedroom, ready to continue her
experiment on her body . . .
2
That night, she had a dream. She was with Jerry, her new boyfriend.
They were going out to an expensive restaurant. They were seated at a
booth, and Jerry ordered for both of them. As the food started
arriving, she dug into it with vigor. There was something languidly
sensual about the feel of food in her mouth, The flavor, and the
satisfaction in her stomach. The food was not identifiable; It was the
idea of food that exciting, not the particular item. It was creamy,
smooth and fatty, as if it contained whipped cream.
Soon, though, the relaxed, smooth pleasure of eating took on a more
urgent note. With no discernible break in the action, she was at home,
being stuffed by Jerry. As time went on, she noticed that she was
leaning farther back, until she was lying face up, being passively fed.
The food seemed to be coming faster, and required more chewing. She
realized that she was eating candy bars; then she noticed she was taking
them 4 at a time, 2 across and two down. Her mouth was stretched to the
limit, but she craved more.
Now she moved her hand down to her belly, and felt it growing. She felt
the pressure building inside as she grew bigger. It seemed to swell
uncontrollably. Soon, Jerry was no longer present, but the food kept
coming. Her hand explored down further, to her hips and ass. These
were growing, too. Somehow, she could see her ass as it was now: 2
giant moons, not sagging, but as round and large as beach balls.
She reached below her stomach to her crotch. Her belly pushed against
her arm as she rubbed the soft, hairy folds. She was now a giant ball,
reaching full size. Soon, she would be complete. Her body reached the
brink of climax as she swelled. She felt it building, up, up, up, . . .
and OVER!
Sarah woke up. Yes, the climax was real, she said to herself as she
examined her privates. She felt like a balloon that had been inflated,
then popped. She was drained and exhausted, but felt good; squirmy and
cuddly.
2
Sarah stretched languidly as she rolled over to look at the clock. Ten
AM, Sunday: one week after her first night with Jerry. She pushed
herself out of bed. Hoo, boy; this was getting difficult! Her plump
body was completely naked. She squatted down to pick up her
underpants. She pulled them on and walked out to the kitchen. Before
she could think about it, she reached into the fridge and grabbed a
block of cheese. She stopped herself in mid-chew. What was she doing?
She hadn't even taken a shower yet.
She walked back to the bathroom and gratefully pulled off her panties;
they were starting to pinch. She took her time in the shower, lazily
lathering and rinsing her body. She stepped out of the shower stall
and onto the scale. She got off and back on again before she could
believe the number. Twenty pounds in one week! What a luscious feeling,
she thought. Jerry kept saying how pretty she was getting with each
added pound. As she regarded herself in the mirror, she had to agree.
Her tits and buns were ripened fruits of flesh, and her little tummy
roll of a week ago had swelled into a round pot.
She padded out to the bedroom, still naked. She rubbed her sore
buttock muscles; thank God that Jerry had gone home last night! She
thought of his ruddy face and light brown, curly hair. Much as she
loved his magnificent body, she needed a rest. She got a clean panty
from her bureau, but it was even tighter than the pair she had worn into
the kitchen. She tried another and another, but they were all too
painful to wear.
Finally, she grabbed one of Jerry's briefs that she had washed. A
little baggy, but they'd do. The first item on the agenda was to head
down to Sears and buy bigger clothes! She pulled on her loosest pair
of 501s. They were binding her thighs, but she managed to pull them
all the way up. The buttons were more difficult. The top button came
within 1 inch of the buttonhole, and no further. She lay down on her
bed, sucked in her gut and tried again. Success!
She slipped into a huge tee shirt that she used as a nightshirt. Then
she reached down to get her socks. Ouch! She could barely move in
these tight jeans. Well, the shirt would cover her waistline, she
reasoned as she undid the top two buttons. Ahh, that was better.
She was sitting on her bed, staring at her belly. The unattached ends
of the waistband were hidden by the thick roll of fat that spilled over
it. As she had been a week ago, sitting in that position, she
felt embarrassed by her body. She couldn't imagine going out dressed
like this. Then, she remembered that she had to visit Mother today.
She already knew what was in store for her; she just hoped she could
withstand the assault.
In any case, Sears was first on the list.
3
Sarah's mother had hardly batted an eye upon seeing Sarah's enlarged
body. The new outfit must have done the trick, Sarah had thought. But
it wasn't going to be that easy. Mother calmly asked her why she was
so . . ., well, heavy.
Sarah had to tell her about the binges; it was obvious anyway, since
there was no other way to put on weight so fast. She left out the sexy
details, although she did mention Jerry.
Mother seemed to have guessed more than what she heard. "Dear, I
know that these food orgies feel good now, but you are paying the
price. What you've got to understand, dear, is that these urges are
sick."
"What exactly makes it sick?" asked Sarah, "Jerry and I aren't hurting
anyone."
"What about hurting yourself, dear? You know you're not healthy. What
would your doctor say?"
"I suppose he'd tell me to lose weight. Who cares? If I choose to
take a risk, why is it anyone else's business?"
"Baby, you don't know what you're doing." It took a determined effort
for Sarah to let that comment slide. At least she didn't say that I
was hurting her, Sarah mused.
***
The visit with Mother produced no resolution, except that Mother gave
Sarah the card of a therapist who could "cure" her, so Mother said.
As if she had some disease, Sarah thought as she drove home.
But her health was important; what about her cholesterol count? She
could get diabetes, or a heart attack. Sarah couldn't shake these
questions.
She entered her house and flopped on the bed. Her stomach rumbled; she
hadn't eaten dinner yet. She walked out to the kitchen and opened the
fridge. In it were leftovers from her binges; half of a boxed cake,
some candy bars, and some other things wrapped in foil. Was there any
real food? Finally, she found some cold cuts and fixed herself a
sandwich.
As she ate, she thought about Jerry. He liked fat women; would he
still want her if she no longer gorged herself? If he was hurting her
by feeding her, maybe it was best if she were rid of him.
Wait a second, she thought. He hadn't forced her to do anything; just
encouraged her. He had done nothing mean to her at all. Other
relationships had ended in pain, but she had never been the first one to
hurt the other.
As she stared off into space, the sun setting behind her shoulder, she
realized how little she knew about Jerry. He said he was a field
engineer for a power utility, but he hadn't left town since they had
met. Was it a slow time for electrical power? She wondered what he
was going to do tonight. For that matter, what had he done in the
evenings before he had met her? Prowl the Oasis every night, looking
for skinny girls to fatten up? Like the witch in Hansel and Gretel,
she thought, grinning. She'd have to tell him that.
She winced as she realized she wouldn't be seeing him tonight. He had
to work late, he had said. Forget him, what was SHE going to do
tonight? Somehow, the TV seemed inadequate. She could see the
refrigerator as she looked through the archway into the kitchen. She
knew what she WANTED to do. . . .
No, she had promised Mom she wouldn't pig out again until she had
talked to the therapist. Big mistake.
She sat there, watching the room grow dark, unable to muster enough
enthusiasm to turn on a light or the TV, when she heard a knock on the
door. "All right," she thought, "Jerry's not so busy after all."
Sure enough, Jerry was at the door, his husky shoulders seemingly
filling up the doorway. He wore a red plaid lumberjack's shirt and
jeans. Fashion is not this guy's strong point, she thought nastily. She
invited him in.
He looked around at the dark house. "Somebody die?"
She chuckled. "No, I just like the dark. Here, I guess I can stand
one light bulb," she said, turning the switch.
"Honey, what's the matter? Did something happen?"
"Jerry, I don't know if I should be doing this. You know, pigging out
every night. I don't think it's really healthy."
Jerry was quiet for a few moments. "I get the feeling someone else is
making you do this. I don't mean another guy. . . . It's just that I
know what kind of pressure your friends can put on you."
"Not to mention your mother, I mean, my mother. Okay, you're right,
they did give me a lot of grief, but this is my decision. I mean, how
much do we know about each other? Look, Jerry. . ." She paused for an
uncomfortable moment. "Look, how. . ." she closed her eyes and took a
shuddering deep breath. She visibly got herself under control. "How
many times have you done this?" she asked, looking him in the eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"These food orgies: how many times?"
"In my dreams, thousands. In real life, once. With you."
She leaned over and fell into his arms, sighing. "Oh, Jerry, you don't
know what it's like. I mean, they say they worry about you, but
they sound so judgmental, like they're saying `if you want to be my
friend, you have to be skinny.'"
"Honey, I know. I think women have it rougher when they gain weight,
but it's no picnic for men."
"But what am I supposed to do? I mean . . ."
"Sweetheart, if you say `I mean' one more time . . ." He grinned at
her. She smiled back, sheepishly.
"Let me ask you something," he continued. "Do you enjoy our little,
shall we say, parties?"
"Oh God, they're like nothing I've ever felt before. And each time, it
feels just as good!" She thought back on the sex and food they had
had, a sly smile creeping on her face.
"Then what could possibly be wrong with them?"
She thought of the reasons Mother had come up with that afternoon.
"It's unhealthy. I mean--oops, sorry!" They laughed together. "We're
going to get enormously fat, and have a heart attack, or two."
"I've got this doctor. He knows me, and knows what I like to do. I am
healthier than most men of, well, normal size. Because I stay active,
I get out and do things. Now I've got someone to do them with. He
tells me when I'm underdoing it or overdoing it. Don't worry, he'll be
happy to help you."
"But my mother, my girlfriends, they . . ."
"Hey, if they can't accept you as you are, or want to be, then they're
not your friends."
"Wow, that's sure original."
"Well, it may be a cliché, but it's true all the same."
The closeness of his body stimulated her. There was no way he was
going to leave without bedding her tonight. Should she argue some more
for appearances. She leaned closer to him, facing him. Why bother?
4
She leaned all the way over, pushing him down and kissing him, mouth
open. He grabbed her ass and pulled it toward him, pressing her plump
tummy against his. Their hips ground as they lay on the couch, kissing.
Finally, she came up for air. No words were necessary as they went
into the kitchen and cleaned out the refrigerator and the cupboards
into the black plastic bag. They moved into the bedroom, kissing as
they went. They lowered themselves onto the bed, still kissing. He
reached into the bag and pulled out the cake. Breaking off a sticky,
frosting-covered piece, he pressed it into her awaiting mouth. He then
covered it with his mouth, and they sucked on the love and sweetness
that they shared.
After fumbling for buttons and zippers, they coupled in a feeding
frenzy. Gobbling cake as they went. His huge organ still inside, she
rolled him over, and took another cake out of the bag. As she writhed
on top of him, she opened the foil wrapping and buried her face in the
fattening food, gobbling it up as fast as she could.
After an hour or so of hungry, squirming pleasure, she had to stop.
The combined food and exertion had given her stomach cramps, and she
lay on her back, the sweat evaporating from her skin. She started to
fall asleep when a poking at her mouth woke her. He had a serving
spoon full of gourmet ice cream, and was shoving it in her face. She
accepted it, having lost all her strength. Soon, her mouth was stuffed;
she thought her cheeks would burst, but all she wanted was more. Like a
baby bird, she swallowed and held her mouth open, greedily wanting more.
Throughout the night, she would fall asleep and reawaken, and he was
always ready to feed her lusty body. The last time she woke up, he was
asleep and her stomach could hold no more. She sat up and turned the
light on. She put her hands on her belly. It was so full of food, it
seemed like a bowling ball attached to her middle. Pregnant women must
feel like this, she thought. As she lay down and turned sideways, her
belly sloshed over, almost pinning her to the bed. She felt somewhat
uncomfortable, but was excited by the new sensation of this weight
tugging at her.
Her food capacity must have increased during her binge period, she
thought, rubbing her midriff. She remembered putting away twice as
much food as she had that first night, when she had gained 5 pounds.
She struggled out of bed, pushing herself up. For the third time in
three weeks, she marveled at how much heavier she was, but this time,
with exuberant joy. She waddled over to the bathroom and did her
business.
As she stood up off the toilet, she realized that her belly, which had
felt tight as a drum, now felt looser and more comfortable. The food
inside no longer distended it to bursting. She wondered how much she
weighed, walking toward the scale. Then she stopped as she saw Jerry
on the bed through the half-open door. There were twin yearnings in
her abdomen: one for food, and one for Jerry. She walked over to the
bed, eager to satisfy them both at once.
* THE END *
by Wayne Wright