Life Goes On

Chapter 1

Mary left me. I couldn't blame her, but I was still disappointed. When we started dating, Mary was a curvy lady who looked like she had the potential for way more than just curves. About five foot five, and 140 pounds when I met her. After a few dates, I told her about my preference for women with some extra padding. I guess she didn't realize I was serious. I am definitely a fat admirer. I'm also a good cook, and I don't mind springing for a good meal on the town, so she inevitably started gaining weight. At first, she enjoyed the attention and the great meals. When she had gained 25 pounds, and none of her clothes fit, she didn't enjoy it so much. She was honest with me, told me that she liked me but just couldn't stand to become a fat girl. And that was that.

Of course I was disappointed. She was a pretty girl, and she was rounding out nicely, in all the right places. But she was firm in her decision. But, life goes on, and I'm not one to sit at home and feel sorry for myself. That's what bars are for. I didn't want to go to one of my usual local haunts, because I'd run into someone I know and have to explain what happened with Mary, and I didn't feel like dealing with that.

I used to live on the other side of town, before getting a brokerage job on the east side. That was what, four or five years ago? Anyway, I remembered a quiet little bar, suitable for a quiet couple of beers to help me reflect. It was called Patty's Irish Pub. I walked in, went to the bar and ordered a beer. I looked around to find a table to myself, when I saw Denise. I had to look twice to make sure it was her. When I had known her, some five years ago, she was an extra curvy redhead. Tall, a full five eleven, a full bust, fuller hips and nice little tummy that looked like it wanted to be a nice big tummy. Now, it was obvious that Denise had been spending a lot of time in the gym. She was lean and almost muscular. Most guys would say she was drop dead gorgeous. As a fat admirer, I wasn't so enamored. Five years ago, we'd started dating until I got my new job on the east side. Like all new jobs, I had to work a lot of extra hours until I had a handle on things, and I lost touch with Denise. But here she was, and while I was deciding whether to say hello, she saw me and smiled and waved.

I came over and said hello, and gave her a chaste hug. She was also drinking beer, which didn't quite fit with that lean figure of hers. We talked and caught up on the last five years. She was living with a guy named Rick, which was why she was so fit. Rick was a fitness trainer, and he made sure Denise had at least an hour in the gym working out each day. He also wouldn't allow anything unhealthy in the house, so no beer, no sodas, no sweets, and it sounded like, no fun. We ordered more beer, and Denise began to relax and open up more. Rick was at a Fitness convention, and it was the first time in months that Denise could sit down and relax with a few beers.

"Paul," she said, "it's nice having a killer figure, but I think I'd rather be chubby like I used to be. Rick dictates my diet, my exercise, hell, my whole lifestyle."

So I asked, "If you don't like it, why stay with him? Just leave"

"I tried, Paul. There's something about him that I can't refuse. I left him three times. Each time he'd find me and tell me to come home with him. I can't say no to him. I just go back with him to the damn diet and the damn gym."

I ordered another round of beer. "Why don't you just eat what you want, and if you don't want to work out, don't work out?"

"Paul" she said, "When I'm with him, I just can't refuse him. He just keeps after me until I give in. If he knew I was sitting on my butt drinking all these beers, he'd have me in the gym for an extra two hours tomorrow."

I was getting interested. It just seemed a shame for a women who's true destiny was to be a Big Beautiful Woman should be condemned to a life of diet and exercise.
"So Denise, let me ask you a hypothetical question. What if you just disappeared for a while? Went somewhere that Rick couldn't find you and lived how you want to? Ate and got chubby?"

"Oh man, Paul, that sounds like heaven. But sooner or later he would find me."

"And if you'd gotten chubby he'd still want you back?" I asked.

"I was chubby when he met me, and you can see what he's done to me" she replied.

I had nothing to lose here. "What if you got fat? Not a little chubby, but fat. Would he still drag you back?"

She considered it. "I was about 30 pounds heavier when he met me" she said. "He considered it a challenge to shape me up."

"How big a challenge is he up for? How fat would you have to get before he would decide you weren't worth the effort?"

I could see that she was really liking the idea. She was looking off into space when she said, "It would have to be, like, 100 pounds. If I gained 100 pounds I know he'd just forget me. But if he found me before I gained 100 pounds, he'd tell me to come back, and I wouldn't be able to say no, and I'd be right back in that damn gym."

"Denise" I said, "I live on the east side of town. Rick doesn't know I exist. You could stay at my place and eat to your hearts content."

"Are you serious?" she whispered.

"Why not?" I replied. "Think how much fun it would be. You could eat whatever you want, as much as you want. Donuts, sweet rolls, pancakes, pasta, roast beef, potatoes, tacos, cakes, pies, you name it. No exercise, just sit on the couch and indulge."

"But how do I keep Rick from finding me?"

"Don't tell him where you're going. Just text him that you're leaving him and not to try to contact you. Don't tell your friends where you're staying. Keep in touch with friends by text, e-mail, phone, whatever, but don't tell anybody where you live. If you can do that for about six months, how fat do you think you could get?"

"Oh Paul, I'll bet I could gain 100 pounds in six months. Seriously. But wait a minute. What's in it for you?"

Here's where I had to be careful. I didn't want to scare her off. "I get two things out of it. First, I get to watch you get fat. I like that. Second, I want to take pictures. Starting with you skinny, and then as you plump up. It's always been a fantasy of mine to take pictures as a girl fattens up."

"You're not going to want sex?" she said, with a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"I always want sex, but I'm not going to make that a condition. When we've been together for a while, if you want sex, I'll be all over you. Especially if you're getting fatter."

"I want to get fat," she breathed. "I want to eat and eat and eat and get a big fat belly. I don't ever want to see the inside of a gym ever again. I want to become lazy and fat."

"Then it's got to be now" I said. "Before he comes back from his convention."

"I just need to pick up a few things" she replied.