Question for those who answered between 350-800; if, somehow, something went wrong and you ended up with your weight in quadruple figures..would you be terribly upset? Because it's easily done, a mistake like that...

This has always been one of my fave fantasies. The story The Decadent Underground is pretty exactly much how I'd like it to go (www.dimensionsmagazine.com/forums/showthread.php) - being able to experience it with others who are also going through the same thing and enjoying it, that'd be great.

But there's so many other possibilities. I'd gladly spend a day as a 8000lb blob if there was someone (preferably female) there to look after me. Maybe tease me about how I've let myself go and casually mention that maybe it won't wear off after 24 hours...

One that'd be really fun would be to go somewhere public at my present size (6'2", 270 pounds, so flabby rather than fat) then ducking out of sight for a few moments and putting on an extra 500 or so pounds before heading back out again and seeing if anyone notices. Kinda like Clark Kent jumping into a phone booth to turn into Superman, except it'd be me changing into a huger me.

Maybe a good place to try that would be a clothing store for really huge guys, and taking the biggest clothes they have into a changing room to try on. Then, once the curtain was drawn, taking the magic pill and starting to get fatter, bursting out of my old clothes rather than taking them off.

The noise might attract a sales assistant, the same one who gave me an odd look earlier when I grabbed those XXXXL pants. "Are you alright in there, sir?"

"Yeah, fine!" I call back. Rrrip. Burst. Tear. Bulge. "Just a bit of a tight fit, y'know?"

Then I'd change into the new clothes, which would only just fit, and (after about ten minutes struggling) manage to squeeze myself out of the changing room to go pay for them. The looks of disbelief and confusion from people - some wondering how they could possibly have missed seeing the man-shaped whale come in the store, and the sales assistant who is too stunned by my change to do anything other than take my money - would be priceless.

And then it'd be lunches time.

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.

I'd have to be 800 pounds exactly to have a BMI of 100. At the moment I'm 273, which makes my BMI 34.1, or moderately obese.

And seeing that word on the screen makes me feel rather good, actually. Just wish I was more obeserer...

I had one about three years ago. Have a sneaky feeling that I probably have dreamt about it again since, but this is the only one I remember.

I was standing in front of a full-body mirror, vaguely aware of someone warning me that if you stand in front of this mirror for long enough it'll fatten you up to 300 pounds.

Now I'm about 240 pounds now but I'm quite tall so I only really look flabby rather than fat. Suddenly the mirror works its magic and I've crossed that line. There's no way around it - I'm definitely fat now. That slightly flabby chin is now two chins, I'm aware that my clothes are much tighter than before, and most of the extra weight seems to have gone to my belly which is now pushing its way out from underneath my shirt.

And I think I like this.

"If you liked that," someone tells me, "then you're in luck - the 700 pound mirror's just been fixed today."

So off I go to stand in front of the mirror that'll fatten me up to 700 pounds. Very excited. I remember seeing it in the distance, seeing some very fat and very happy people walking away from it and feeling excited that in just a few moments I'll be as big and as happy as they are, but I guess I either woke up or my subconscious drifted off in a different direction because I never actually reached it...