Max and Ann Get Fat

CHAPTER 1 - How it Began (based on actual events)

(Max)
When I was a young boy, my mom would sometimes leave me alone in the house, while she was out. Several times, I would go into my mother's room, and open the drawers where she kept her underwear. At the time, I didn't know why, but looking at and touching her intimate clothing would give me a "thrill."
One day, I remember removing a girdle from the drawer. I knew that this piece of clothing was used to make fat women look thinner.
I took off my clothes, tried the girdle on, and looked at myself in the mirror. I then took a pillow and shoved it into the girdle as I was wearing it. I had gotten fat, I thought to myself. Thinking that and imagining that I was a fat woman, looking at myself in the mirror, excited me more than I could have imagined!
Just then, my mother came back into her bedroom. She'd returned earlier than expected and caught me wearing her girdle."
"My mother was furious. She called me "weird", a "pervert", and a "loser".
After that incident I never went into my mother's clothing again.
But there was a part of me that I discovered that day - a part that I would keep buried for many years... I had learned that was fascinated by fat people and overeating. I was drawn to overweight girls. I was excited by the idea of intentionally gaining weight myself. Another thing I came to know, I enjoyed being submissive to women.
I never let on to the rest of the world that this was how I felt. I went out of my way to portray myself as someone who wanted just the opposite. I dated thin girls, I kept myself fit, and I did not let any female dominate me.

(Ann)
From a young age, my mother drilled into me the importance of maintaining a slim figure.
"Men want a petite, delicate flower," she'd say, pinching my ribs to emphasize her point. "If you let yourself go, you'll never get a husband and you will end up alone."
Her words struck fear into my young heart, making me vow to never get fat. As I entered my teenage years, mother's scrutiny intensified. She monitored every morsel that passed my lips, scolding me for even the slightest gain in weight. Countless hours were spent exercising, with her stern supervision ensuring I didn't slack off for a single minute. The relentless pressure took its toll, leaving me perpetually anxious about my appearance and terrified of disappointing my mother's expectations.
Despite following Mother's wishes, I felt a hidden fascination growing inside me, one I couldn't speak about. From a young age, I had been fascinated by fat people and the allure of overeating. When I was a kid, I was always drawn to the way people talked after big family gatherings. The adults would lean back in their chairs, hands on their stomachs, laughing about how much they'd eaten, how they really shouldn't have gone back for more, and how fat they were going to get. I didn't understand why those moments fascinated me, but they did. Something about the way they joked about being too full, too satisfied - excited me more than it should have. Sometimes, I would stuff plush toys under my dress and parade like that for hours, showing off to my friends just how "fat" I had gotten. At that time, I didn't understand the tingle in my privates I would feel.
For years, I tried to pretend my urges weren't real. I kept telling myself it was nothing serious - just curiosity, just a passing interest. But underneath all that denial, I knew better. The idea of letting myself slip, of giving in to the pull of overeating and growing bigger, lit something in me I didn't want to acknowledge. I kept trying to shove those thoughts aside, covering them with routines and discipline, but they always crept back in when I was tired or distracted.
It became a quiet battle I fought every day. Outwardly, I did everything right - careful meals, regular workouts, the image of someone in control. But under that polished surface, there was a part of me that wanted to stop holding back, to give in to the comfort of eating without restraint. It felt like I was constantly caught between who I was supposed to be and the impulses I kept trying to hide.
And my Mother's warning was always there also. So, I made a compromise: I would maintain my slim physique until I got married. After that... well, we would see.