Chapter 3 - feeder

That summer, my life changed for the better when I met up with a feeder online. We'll call her Jamie (using a fake name, of course). I messaged her about a picture she posted on feabie, and she messaged me back. We chatted for a couple of months, and finally I flew her out to visit me. At this time, it had been about a year since I started my job and I had put on about 50 pounds. My weight was stabilizing somewhat, but Jamie changed all of that. She stayed with me for a week, which was filled with food and ***ing. I gained 5 pounds just during the week she was there. She went back to university, but we continued to chat and she continued to support my efforts to fatten myself from afar. By December of that year, I was turning into a true fatty. I had been gaining 3 or 4 pounds a month, and by December I was pushing about 230 pounds. I tried to go skiing one day in December, and I was too fat for everything. I could barely get my fat ankles into my ski boots. I was unable to button my ski pants, and actually had to ski with my jacket unzipped. I remember feeling my stomach jiggle violently as I skidded over the mountain, and my knees immediately screamed for relief. My gluttony was really starting to have an effect on my physical stamina and abilities. This was both exciting and scary to me. I've always been (or used to be) an active person, but at 230 pounds, some of my old activities like skiing were out of the question.

Unsurprisingly, the stress and volatility of the following busy period at work caused me to gain more weight. I was eating like a mad man. The shock on my coworkers faces when they would see the meals I ordered gave me much delight. Lobster mac & cheese, large quantities of fast food, and McDonald's breakfast almost every day of the week. I physically felt lethargic and tired, and my new physical stature took some getting used to. I became hot in rooms that were room temperature, and my stomach began to become more uncomfortable as my pants increasingly cut into it. I wore it outside of my pants, and therefore I had an ever increasing globe of flesh sticking out in front of my body. It hung down and strained my shirts, with the buttons somehow miraculously keeping from falling off when I sat. I started to shop at the big and tall men's shops. I cut out walking entirely, avoiding it to the point where my smartphone informed me I was walking an average of less than 1000 steps per day. By March of that year, 3 months after Christmas, I hit 255.

Getting fat to the point of morbid obesity is an interesting experience. You really don't notice yourself grow day by day. But occasionally you'll have an experience and be reminded of how out of control your weight has become. By the end of the summer, my weight was pushing 290. I had been gaining 6 or so pounds a month, easily. My stomach hung and I wore my pants under them, because I liked the feeling of my belly being out for everyone to see. Though my stomach had become the focal point of my body, everything was fat including my ass and thighs, and walking was starting to become a real pain. At the end of this summer I went with Jamie to meet her parents. I hadn't flown in almost a year (and about 80 pounds), and I wasn't prepared for what a day it would be. The security line was quite long, about 20 minutes. Therefore, I had to stand on my feet for 20 minutes. At 290, I was well over 100 pounds heavier than someone my height should have been, and I had attained that weight in a relatively short period of time. Therefore, my weight gain had affected me so much that I actually thought I was going to collapse while standing in the security line. I was leaning against anything I could find, and my lower back felt like it was going to spasm. Overall, the flight was a miserable experience for an obese person like myself, but it was also a massive turn on.