I Gained the College Weight and a Whole Lot More

Chapter 1 - The realization

I look at myself in the bathroom mirror after my nightly shower. My body has changed. Once slim, my physique now carries more fat. I’ve never been athletic, but I was always skinny, probably thanks to a fast metabolism. The reflection staring back at me feels softer. My face is rounder, and I can grab the fat on my stomach. It’s no longer flat. I must have gained more weight than I thought. The added weight isn’t much of a surprise. I’ve eaten a lot more than I used to, thanks to the unlimited food at the cafeteria.

My evenings are spent eating my way through the buffet, loading up on greasy, fried fast food and of course, dessert. Breakfast and lunch aren’t much better. Even with the added weight, I don’t want to stop eating this way. I love the feeling of being full, no, more accurately, stuffed. And to be honest, I like my new body. How soft it is. In fact, I wouldn’t be opposed to gaining even more weight, as long as I could always feel stuffed and never have to feel hungry again.

My stomach growls, taking my thoughts away from my changing body and onto what I am going to eat next. Maybe some chicken wing or pizza. I quickly dry off and throw on sweatpants and a large shirt. The sweatpants were a bit loose when I arrived at college just two months ago, but now they’re almost too small. I guess I’ll need to buy some new clothes soon. I’ve been having trouble buttoning my jeans lately, and when they do finally button, my stomach spills over the top.

I make my way down to the cafeteria and when I walk in through the doors my stomach rumbles as the smell of delicious food wafts through the air. I headed straight for the buffet, piling my plate high with an assortment of food, mostly fried and what most people would deem unhealthy but I didn't care.

I sit down close to the buffet—I’ll likely want a second or even third helping, and moving when you’re stuffed can be tough. Looking around, I see the cafeteria is nearly empty, just a few people scattered about. This is my preferred dinner time. I don’t like eating with a lot of people watching, and the quieter atmosphere comes with the bonus of fewer lines, leaving me more time to eat.

I am not really self conscious about my body but I don’t like the glances I get when I fill up my plate. I dig into my food. Starting with the crispy chicken wings and bbq sauce, my stomach quiets. As I continue to eat I can feel my stomach expanding, stretching to accommodate the large amount of food I am eating. Pressing against the band of my sweatpants. After finishing my plate, I can feel the food sitting heavy in my stomach. I feel stuffed and if it were any other night I might have stopped here but after my newfound revelation I want to eat even more, feel even fuller, so full I don’t want to move.

With a determined grin, I rise slowly, the weight of my body shifting as I stand. I sway a little side to side as I make my way over to the buffet. The sight of the delicious spread makes my mouth water. I reach for another plate, feeling the strain in my shirt as I extend my arms. I pile on more of my favorite foods but this time also dessert, the plate quickly becomes another mountain of food. On my way back I can feel how the weight on my plate mirrors the weight in my belly. I can feel with every step how my body has changed, last two months, becoming more pronounced with each movement. The sensation of being stuffed is so intoxicating and I can't wait to dive back in.

Settling into place, I take a moment to appreciate the sight of my over full plate and move stuffed my body feels. Soon to be even more stuffed. I don’t feel uncomfortable yet but I can feel the waistband of my pants pressing firmly on my expanding stomach. The snug fit is a reminder on how much I have indulged and the fabric digs into my soft flesh, creating an indentation. Each movement I make causes my belly to shift, the weight settling heavy as it bulges slightly over the top.

With a deep breath I begin to eat again, savoring every bit as it fills me up more and more. But with each bit the waistband gets tighter and tighter until it hurts so much I have to stop eating. Feeling the need for a bit more comfort so I can finish my food, I decide to move the waistband under my stomach. As I move to adjust, my finger brushes against the warm skin on my belly. The moment the band leaves my stomach, a wave of relief washes over me. My stomach expands further, the pressure easing as I am allowed the freedom to breathe. Looking down on my stomach, I look like I could be eight months pregnant. I can feel my stomach rest on the top of my legs, it feels heavy. With my newfound comfort I start eating again. Mind set on finishing the food.

The last couple of bites were hard. My body screamed at me to stop but the satisfaction from eating it all triumphed. I lean back in my chair, slowly breathing with my big overfilled stomach on display for everybody who walks past not caring anymore what other people think. I gently rub circles on my stomach, trying to make myself more comfortable. I can barely move and thinking about walking back to my room and up two flights of stairs makes me want to move even less. I sit there a solid 30 minutes trying to digest the food before I decide it is time to slowly try to make my way back to my dorm.

Standing up this time is a lot harder than the last. It takes me several tries and when I finally manage to stand up my sense of gravity is off and I feel my stomach pulling me forward, forcing me to take a moment to steady myself. I glance down marveling at how my shirt clings to my swollen belly and how I won’t be able to pull up my pants. I take a deep breath and slowly start to walk back to my room. With each step I can feel my weight shifting, a new centre of gravity that I am not used to. It is more of a waddle than a walk. My hips sway more than usual and I can sense the way my pants hug my thighs, snug and restrictive.

It takes me double the time to just get to the stairs. I hate stairs but I guess they are there so the freshmans get a little bit of movement. Not something I want now. Just lifting my leg up onto the first step is exhausting. How will I ever get up two whole flights of stairs? It takes me a lot of huffing and puffing and a break in the middle but I am finally up. All I ever want to do is sleep.

Inside my room, I head straight for my bed, my mind focused solely on sleep. But first, I need to get these tight clothes off. The shirt comes off easily, but the pants are another story. As I try to pull them down, my stomach gets in the way, and I barely have to bend forward for it to touch my legs. I tug at the fabric, but it feels like a battle against my own body.

“Come on, “ I chuckle to myself, the situation is a little amusing but mostly frustrating. It doesn’t help that my stomach is sensitive and hurts from the feast. I try again but this time slowly wiggle the pants from side to side. It takes time but they are finally off.

“Next time, I’ll be sure to wear something a little looser,” I say to myself, chuckling at the predicament. The thought of more feasts and indulgent meals fills me with excitement, and I can’t help but wonder how much more I'll grow. For now, I decide to simply enjoy the moment, my hands gently cradling my bloated belly as I revel in the delicious aftermath of my feast.