One that's been on my mind recently has me waking up in some kind of lab facility, along with a girl, and together we look for a way out. But the only thing we find is a locked door which will only open if the sensor on the ground in front of it detects a weight of, say, 320 pounds or more. Together she and I only weigh 280 - and that's when a panel pops open in the door and a little vial pops out with '50 pounds' written on it. With nothing else to do I drink it, put on 50 pounds and now together we're heavy enough to go through the door.
But that's just the start. From there we go from room to room and face various problems that can only be overcome by making ourselves fatter. We take it in turns and soon both of us are huge, and as we move further through the maze we realise that the bigger we get the more this place is catering to our increased size. Our every need is being met and it's almost like we're being invited to just give in to the inevitable and stay here forever, but we keep going and finally we get to the exit - weighing about 700-800 pounds or so each. Both of us love how we look, and we've also fallen in love with each other by now.
And then we decide that actually we'd be happier staying here than going back into a world that isn't going to understand what's happened to us. Everything we need is here, and it's clear that even if we get bigger - which we totally want to do now - this place is somehow capable of looking after us. So that's what we do. We stay, and we become fatter than any man and woman has ever been, and we're happy.
But sometimes I also like to imagine that fantasy where the girl isn't so nice, and because I took the first shot she expects me to keep taking them so she doesn't have to sacrifice her figure. So before we're even halfway through the facility I've ended up practically immobile and she has to go on alone - which is when she runs into a door that won't open for anything less than 1200 pounds, and a vial marked '600 pounds'.
From there she either drinks it herself and comes back to get me so we can go on together, or she comes back to get me with a trolley that she helps me onto - and then orders me to drink the vial so we can get through that door. Either's good.
12 years
