Chapter 1 - the two meet again

I know I shouldn't. It'll only end up as more flesh on my flabby thighs. I need to be strong, need to control myself. If I keep eating like this I'll never lose weight.
"What'll it be, miss?" the man behind the counter asks
"Um... a chocolate sundae please..."
I sigh as I watch the clerk prepare my delicious treat; so much for strength.
Picking out a small table at the back I sit my blubbery butt down and dig in. It's just not fair. Why does ice cream have to be so tempting?
"Alice, is that you?"
That voice... oh no, not her, not here, not now!
I turn my head and there she is; Yvonne, as pretty as ever. Slim and stylish, everything I'm not.
"Hi Yvonne," I say, desperately wishing I was somewhere else. "How've you been?"
She smiles, a radiant confident smile that lights up her shapely face. Her high cheekbones, her sharp little chin... I don't really have cheekbones, just a couple of chubby cherub-like cheeks. I do on the other hand have plenty of extra chins.
"I'm fine, what about you?" Yvonne leans down towards me; her slim manicured fingers pinch the soft fat of my belly.
"Looks like you've really been enjoying your food." She giggles.
"Yeah, I guess..." my ears are getting warm.
"Didn't you say you were gonna lose weight last time I saw you?"
"M... maybe..." I stammer.
"I guess that hasn't been going too well. You actually look like you've put on a bit."
Yvonne pulls out a chair and sits down across from me.
"It's nice to see you again." She smiles and leans in across the table.
"How about we get some more ice cream and catch up?"
"I dunno... I really shouldn't..."
But she's already ordered me a new sundae. It's huge and covered in tasty fudge. I should say no, should have it taken away. But I don't. I remain on my fat butt, my chubby arms shovelling delicious ice cream in between my greedy lips.
Damn it! Why is it so hard to say no to her?
***
We used to be together her and I. She's why I am the way I am.
I've never been skinny, not really, not like her. But it wasn't until we met that I really got fat.
It was a couple of years ago, we'd both just started college. I fell for her the minute our eyes met. She was so pretty, so elegant and confident. All those things I could only dream of being. I thought about her all the time, about how pretty she was, about everything I'd like to do with her. I had never felt this way before. I was so happy when I found that she felt the same about me.
If only I'd known what she was planning...
I've never been the kind to exercise, or to watch what I eat. I'm kind of a natural couch potato, so college wasn't exactly the best thing that had ever happened to my figure. It didn't take me long to get started on my freshman 15.
Yvonne wasn't slow to notice my growth, or the habits that were causing it. She knew what a spoiled slug I was, and she was happy to indulge me.
Oh how she spoiled me, oh how I ate. She'd do everything for me. I hardly had to move a muscle. My days were spent seated on the sofa, munching away on one treat after another. She pampered me like a princess.
Yvonne was studying nutrition. She knew all there was to know about food, including how to make the most fattening and addictive meals you could ever imagine. All that knowledge was turned against me.
It was so delicious! I couldn't get enough of those mouth-watering platefuls of calorie laden goodness. Those delicious helpings of pure fat her dark arts created for me.
Until I met Yvonne I'd never truly known just how much food my stomach could take. She just kept feeding me. As the months passed it got harder and harder to say no, harder and harder to stop. Before long I'd lost track of how much I was eating. My life had turned into a massive feast.
I blew up like a balloon. Forget the freshman 15; it was more like the freshman 50. By Christmas I was well over 200 pounds. Under Yvonne's loving care I had turned into a gluttonous butterball.
Much as I loved every minute of that lazy lifestyle, my ballooning body was starting to worry me. I knew I'd put on weight, but it wasn't until I went home for Christmas that I realised just how fat I'd gotten.
Two weeks of my mom asking whether I should really have that second helping, two weeks of being called "tubster" by my skinny li'l sister. And then the last straw; having to spend ten minutes squirming to get into my new jeans only to burst out of them a mere hour later. As I stood there, my doughy flesh oozing out of the ripped seams, I knew something had to be done.
Yvonne proved less than supportive. She told me not to worry, that I'd be happier just to let myself eat. When that didn't work she told me I shouldn't try to be something I wasn't, that I was too lazy to stick to any sort of exercise regimen, too much of a hungry fatty to be able to diet.
It took me every last ounce of strength not to give into her. In the end I had to tell her that we were on a break. I told her that I'd show her, that when next she saw me I'd be as fit and thin as she was.
She just smiled.
And now here I am, even fatter than when I left her.