chapter 2

Your diet is going well. Or at least that is what you tell yourself. You've been dieting for a week now and you're sure you've lost at least 5 lbs. You're eating lots of salads - that you slather those salads in dressing you conveniently ignore. You still get thirds at the cafeteria - but now it's healthy food. Chicken is good for weight loss. Fried chicken isn't, but you also choose to ignore this. You read pasta is healthy, so you also load up on that. When you're studying you consume entire bags of candy without even noticing it. Really the only thing your diet consists of is no longer ordering takeout. Denying the truth that your waistline is growing rather than shrinking, you proudly load up in the cafeteria.

155 lbs. The number on the scale stares back at you in angry red lines. For the first time in your life you have to bend forward a little bit because there is a stomach obstructing your way. You gained weight. Your diet was for nothing. You observe your body in the bathroom mirror. Is that a roll on your side? Your boobs are pushing up over your bra. Your underwear is cutting into your hips and your stomach. When you turn around you can see it's also forming a line in your butt. You take a closer look at your face. Your cheeks are starting to puff up. You don't have a double chin yet, but it's definitely beginning to form. You grab a handful of stomach fat and squeeze it. Horrified you do it again. You've always had a flat stomach. What happened to you? You've completely let go of yourself. You stare at the mirror for a bit longer and begin to cry. You redress yourself and try to calm yourself down. Everyone gains a little bit of weight when they leave home. People won't notice. You'll start working out, lord knows you own enough sweatpants. And no more sugar or fatty foods. You'll go on a strict diet. You jump up and down in front of the mirror a few times. Your boobs, definitely a size larger than they were a few months ago jiggle up and down. You realize you don't find it as repulsive as you should and then that disgusts you - what is wrong with you. You're a lazy, fat slob. What happened to the athletic skinny girl from a few months ago?

..

Your diet didn't work out. You're back to denying how big you are, but your fat clothes are getting tight. Even though you tell yourself you're still dieting, deep down you know all you're doing is getting fatter. The no sugar thing is out the window. So is the no fat thing. In fact you are eating more than ever. You're also skipping class more than ever and ordering food more than ever, and as a result you're spending your days doing nothing but eating and napping. In turn, you're also growing more than ever. And if there is one thing good for a growing girl, it's Christmas. In a few weeks it will be the merry season and you'll go home for 2 weeks. You're telling yourself you'll be skinny before then, all the while stuffing your face with chocolate.

You gained 12 lbs. This time you kind of expected it which decreases the shock of the number on the scale. 167. You weigh 167. Before you left home you never went above 110. Your family is definitely going to to notice. You try not to think about it but it turns you on a little bit that your parents are going to see what a fat lazy pig their daughter is becoming. You rub your belly, it now clearly jiggles and happily hangs over the edge of your underwear. It makes a noise, and you realize you're very hungry. Without dressing yourself, you go to the kitchen and sit down on the floor, and begin devouring chocolate chip cookies.

...

Before everyone goes home for Christmas, there is a big dinner at your school, for all students. Since it's all you can eat you would have gone by yourself, but against all expectations a guy asked you to go. You don't have any classes together, but he sat at your table one day in the cafeteria. You talked for a bit (while you kept eating in record pace - charming), and after a while he asked for your number. And now he's asked you to the Christmas dinner. You're vaguely aware that this is weird, that he should be repulsed by the way you stuffed your face in front of him in the cafeteria, but you try not to think about it. What are you going to wear. Think about that instead.

It's quite important to think about, seeing how nothing fits. Your fat clothes are actually already too small for you. After a lot of searching you find a black pencil shirt and a blouse. Both and obviously too tight. The fabric of the skirt stretches over you swollen stomach and the shirt spans over your expanding form, the buttons obviously strained. You sit down and the blouse forms 3 rolls, flesh bulging out between the buttons. You pull down the shirt and pull your skirt higher. See, you can still wear this. You're not too big for it.

...

At 5, as you agreed to, Aron picks you up at your place. He drives a nice car, nothing flashy, a small blue one, but it looks fairly new. He smiles at you and gives you a firm hug after letting his eyes run over your appearance. "You look great!"

You blush. "Thank you."

The car ride isn't very interesting. You chat a bit about school, which series you like, what job you do. You're embarrassed about only being able to give a good answer to questions about television. Aron doesn't seem to mind. He keeps glancing sideways, to your boobs straining your shirt. It doesn't take long before you arrive at the restaurant where the dinner is held. Aron walks you in proudly by his side, and finds a table in the back for the two of you. He tells you to sit down, he'll get the first course.

Your eyes become bigger as you see Aron's definition of course. The plate is piled high with food - enough to feed 2 grown men. He sets it down in front of you and shoots you a smile. "I like a girl that knows how to eat."

You know how to eat. What you didn't know was that you were going to make a complete pig out of yourself, whether Aron approved or not. Greedily you dig in. Fork after fork full of food disappears in your mouth as Aron watches. When the plate is almost empty, he stands up. "You still look hungry. I'll be right back." You finish the first plate before he returns. Panting you sit back. Your stomach is already bloated, and heavily pushing against your skirt. Your fat bulges over and under the elastic edge, highlighting your soft stomach and your recent gain. Aron looks approving as he returns with another plate, as big as the last one. He doesn't have to say anything before you dig in. You eat the first half of the plate quickly, but then you start to slow down. You're full. Very full. Your stomach is bloated and your skirt is cutting into it. It hurts. Aron notices, and looks around. Almost no one showed up, and the part of the restaurant you're sitting in is empty. He stands up and walks over to you. Slowly he rolls down your skirt. Your stomach bounces up, finally freed from the confining skirt it's a lot bigger. Your shirt is struggling to stay together, and your buttons look like they are going to pop off. Aron starts massaging your belly. Suddenly you belch - a cute tiny one, but still your cheeks glow red from embarrassment. Not knowing what to do, you decide to start eating again. The massage is making more room in your belly, and finally the second plate is gone too. Aron stops rubbing your belly. "I'll go get dessert."

Your stomach hurts. You weigh your options. Stop eating. Don't explode. Keep eating. More of that delicious ice cream. Sweet vanilla melting on your tongue. You bring the spoon to your mouth again. There's not a lot left on your plate, only 2 cookies and a bit of chocolate pie. You finished most of the slice. The food is making your stomach heavy. You're very sleepy and you feel like dozing off. You try to suppress a burp, but you fail. When your stomach expands again, and as your bloated stomach presses against the buttons they finally give in. They jump off and your belly spills through and onto your lap. You breathe out. The relief is immense. Your stomach now sits on your lap at least a few inches, round and big, so heavy it pushes you into the chair. You notice Aron, who is not even trying to hide his arousal. You don't really care. You just want the last of that chocolate pie.

When your plate is empty you simply sit there for a few moments. Aron has started rubbing your belly again, which is helping relieve the pressure some. After a while you decide to leave. There is no hope of closing your shirt, so you try to hold it together as you pull your skirt over it. It short of works, but still there is fat spilling out everywhere. Aron offers you his coat and you gladly accept. He drives you back to your room where you fall asleep, heavy and fulfilled.