chapter 5: something different

David
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The fact that I wasn’t dreaming was what was keeping me going most days. University was rough, especially when you’re constantly thinking about your girlfriend who was already outgrowing her clothes. Anna was also having difficulties concentrating on her senior year of college, especially since her 21st birthday was coming up. The fact she had skipped a grade in elementary school was pretty cool, but hearing what type of person her mom was, who pushed her to do so, diminished that somewhat. Now, that was all behind her, and luckily for the both of us, her way of officially doing so was stuffing her face with as many calorie-dense foods as possible.

155 could barely be considered overweight for someone at Anna’s height (she was even still considered a healthy weight according to her BMI, but was pretty much at the threshold of being overweight), but seeing the difference 40 pounds made on her was noticeable. I had been keeping visual tabs on her figure (with her permission, of course), and it was already exhilarating to see what all of that overeating was doing to her. While most would at least be able to tell she had gained weight (40 was quite a lot, especially for just 2 months), I could tell exactly what had changed due to my… background in watching cases like Anna’s.

Overall, she had gained an extra half-inch of fat over everything, with a little less in her chest and back, but a little more in her belly and thighs, meaning everything was pretty much squishy at this point, even if just barely so. While her bra size went up, her cup size remained the same, and she was even starting to get stretch marks on certain parts of her body. Mostly her stomach, of course, but that was mostly due to the actual act of overeating rather than fat deposits. Her thighs were now almost touching when she stood up, and her pants were definitely struggling, given most of them were skinny jeans. We actually had planned a shopping trip for Sunday, tomorrow, to get her some new clothes, and of course, along with stuff that would fit her now, we’d also do some… extended planning. Besides, the stores she wanted to go to for clothes were having a sale, meaning more money for food down the line. She was still eating her very lovingly and fatteningly prepared breakfast when I decided to speak up.

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to… go to a buffet tonight? As a date, even?”

She looked up from her overfilled plate, still chewing on a bite of pancake. “That’d… actually be really fun!” She replied after making sure her mouth wasn’t full.

“Great! I have a place in mind, actually, and it’s decently close to here.”

“Alright, it’s a date then! I’ll make sure to wear the loosest clothes I have, just in case,” she said almost flirtatiously.

Damn, that’s hot.

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We got to the buffet at around 5:30 PM, and luckily for us, it wasn’t too busy. After getting a table, we immediately went to go check our options.

“A few months ago, this place got renovated to accommodate more people,” I explained while Anna was already loading her plate with several types of meat, including pulled pork and kielbasa. “It only opened back up recently, so not too many people know it’s actually open right now, meaning more food for us.”

“You really did your research then, huh,” Anna replied, her wrists almost straining to hold her now loaded plate.

“Yep, all for you, my dear.”

“I’m flattered,” she half-joked. I decided to get something to eat myself, since this was, in fact, a dinner date. Unlike Anna, I didn’t have a medicinally slowed metabolism, and I was actively working out in preparation for when Anna was a “bit” heavier (the men in my family had a history of being pretty lanky, and I was no different).

Seeing Anna eat was beautiful in my mind. She was at the point where every meal looked like she hadn’t eaten in days, but she wasn’t ravenous and messy with it. I didn’t know if she’d ever reach that point, but if she wanted to keep her societal dignity in that regard, I wouldn’t stop her. What dignity wouldn’t be kept, however, was how much she was eating in one sitting. I was pretty sure the place we were at was going to lose money thanks to her actions tonight, and I was happy to be along to witness it. I watched with a small grin on my face as she demolished the first three plates she had gotten for herself. She was already a pro at scouting out which foods were the worst for her, and she was capitalizing it to the fullest. Greasy meats, fries, garlic bread, pastas, and cheese were up to her lips and gone within moments, and as she kept going, I could swear I could visibly see her oversized hoodie getting tighter. I suddenly smirked.

“How about I get you some dessert,” I said, still smiling, “seeing that you seem to be slowing down a bit.”

She looked back at me with a competitive look in her eyes. “Oh really? Then do your worst, see how I can handle it.”

I stood up and took her now empty plates. “Careful what you wish for, babe.”

The dessert section at this place was the main reason I had chosen this place in particular. It had a huge variety of what was basically pure sugar and fats just waiting to be eaten and converted. A feeder’s dream. After looking for a small amount of time, I dished up and came back with two plates of desserts. On one, there was nothing but cake and a few brownie bites. The other had ice cream and fudge, and my basic calculations noted that this would be around 3000 calories, more than recommended for an entire day. I saw her face change from surprised to concerned to determined in just a few moments, and from there, I knew she wouldn’t stop either until it was all gone or until she needed to go to the hospital. Really hoped it wouldn’t be the latter.

“Eat up,” I chuckled.

She took no time at all to start with the first plate. A slice of chocolate cake, 800 calories. 10 brownie bites, another 600. With barely a crumb left on either her face or the plate, she moved onto the second, and I noticed her breathing was starting to get heavier. 1400 calories so far. The ice cream was getting melted, so she went for that first. Two cups of soft serve swirl ice cream. 800 calories. And finally, the fudge. A dozen pieces. Nearly 900 calories. She put the first piece in her mouth, and I could tell she was struggling a bit. She had already eaten so much, and being as competitive as she was meant that she wouldn’t lose my challenge so easily. I estimated she had eaten nearly 5000 calories worth of food at this point, and I would totally get if she couldn’t finish this. However, as pieces two through five went down, I started to believe more and more. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven… She stopped at the last piece, and with how much her stomach pressed against her once loose hoodie, I could tell she was at her limit. Without thinking, I picked up the last piece of fudge and held it out to her. She stared at it for a moment before leaning forward (mostly with her neck, probably because of the current belly situation) and opening her mouth. I placed the fudge inside, and she took a minute to chew and swallow, leaning back to let out a victory sigh of relief once she was done.

“I… win…can’t… move…” was all she was able to say as she panted, her jacket zipper slipping little by little with each breath. I stood up and walked to her side of the booth, sitting down next to her and subtly rubbing her very distended stomach. I really hope this is a look into the future, where her immobility would be due to her weight rather than what she ate.