Chapter 1 (Full)

The soft wool sweater felt warm and prickly on my pale birch skin. It was a nice feeling after weeks of college exams had left me prickly in other ways. I was in desperate need of a change.

A year of having my pale freckled face buried in books. I’d wasted away over the year, determined to make my scholarship stick. The only thing round about me was my reading glasses these days, as I had distinguished myself at the cost of becoming a total twig.

The skinny girl buried under all those books is who I’ve been all year. Now I’m buried under this sweater too, but that doesn’t feel like the person I am meant to be. Not yet.

I got this baggy orange sweater as a present for my Birthday near the end of exams. It was sent down by a relative who hadn’t seen me since middle school. It was far too big for me. As if rather than the fairy godmother in the stories turning my carriage into a pumpkin, she’d turned me into one. For whatever reason that made my pale cheeks flush despite the cold weather outside.

I… liked the idea.

Finally, I was free of exam pressure and away from home, living in my own flat, by my own rules. I still had to be home for Christmas but that was still a month and a half away. For once I could indulge that side of myself that I tried not to think about too much as I sipped tea and studied. The side of me that wanted to firm up my pumpkin sweater, feel it fit and then strain just an inch or two more. To not be buried in bagginess but have the roundness of the sweater reflect a fuller figure. I closed my eyes and I could almost touch that invisible underbelly, poking out from under the sweater, a sneak peek for a greedy side of me that had been pushed down and hidden for too long.

I want my twiggy body to thicken into something more… bountiful. I need to follow the old adage of you are what you eat. With the cold weather, it was the perfect excuse for consuming all sorts of sweet treats. Not only had I hoarded candy from Halloween (which I sucked on constantly) I changed up my routine by going around the local donut shops, a different one each day. To them it looked like I was getting them once a week, but really every day was donut day for me.

All of them had sugary sprinkles and a lot of them had a lovely bright icing on top. They were deep fried, and you could tell they were flipped as part of the cooking process, as they had a ring of light white half-baked pastry right around their middles. I imagine that is how I’ll look with a middle roll too, as I sink my teeth into another doughy delight.

I’d have my donuts served with hot chocolate, with pinches of nutmeg and pumpkin spice. It was good to feel the warm herbs and sugar on my lips as I trotted home with my daily dozen.

I wanted to get at least some exercise. If I was still doing sports this might help me lose weight, but the light trot from donut shop to home was a stimulant for my appetite. I was eating almost nothing but carbs, and yet I was hungry for more.

My body was urging me to add more icing, more powdered fat. After a fortnight I began to feel the results on my body. My tummy had begun to swell. my pale speckled skin was fattening up and pooching out over my underwear. I found myself kneading my waist to get my fingers into small rolls to rub and squeeze all that new found chub. My jeans for the first time in a long time felt tight, and I began to struggle to button them in the morning before going out to another donut shop.

I wore my orange sweater a lot. It was so comfortable and warm and it hid my changing body from my friends. Anyone would look a little chubbier all rugged up for winter. They couldn’t know how much of a belly was growing underneath it, and at this point I could still suck in if I needed too. It felt a lot more comfortable not to button my jeans though. I had to double check every time I left the house that I had rebuttoned my pants, because it was becoming a rarity around the flat.

After another fortnight I popped the button on my jeans and flushed red like a tomato. In a moment of secret pleasure, rather than changing pants I simply wrapped my sweater around my waist and headed out to the clothe store, with nothing holding my pants up except my added dough. I was finally becoming a chubby girl.

Rather than getting new jeans I got sweatpants. Some of them I cut the legs off so they were like extra comfy short shorts. I could stuff myself and have the waistband expand, while having my thighs nice and exposed. I got powders to help me with chaffing as my thigh gap had completely disappeared. Though that made it easier to use my thighs as a table for my donut boxes.

In the mirror I looked more and more like a chubby Velma from scooby doo. The outline of my tubby belly was visible now underneath my sweater. My round glasses matched my round hips. I wiped a bit of icing off my cheeks and licked my fingers. They used to be bony, but they were beginning to fatten up as well. The weight definitely wasn’t just going to my belly and thighs any more, though I was still more pear than pumpkin.

Another treat I discover was caramel squares, absolutely packed with sugar and easy to suck on no matter what I was doing. Always have something in your mouth, always be eating and you will always be adding calories. It began to feel weird to not have something sugary in my mouth at all times, and I could feel my face beginning to fill out. A double chin was going to be a lot harder to hide, and I was already having to suck in when I went on my donut trips to avoid getting embarrassed, or aroused.

Still when I squished my rolls and felt my belly in my lap, I knew I was making progress. I didn’t want to weigh myself, I just wanted to feel full and happy. To indulge myself fully and without compromise.

After another fortnight I started ordering in donuts more than going out. My friends were beginning to notice the extra chub as I wasn’t sucking in any more. They recommended me gyms and I talked about how I’d been walking every day but it just didn’t seem to be helping, I’d just lost control of my diet in the winter. Another victim of the freshmen fifteen, or perhaps it was fifty? Perhaps more.

I closed my eyes and felt for that invisible underbelly, but finally it wasn’t invisible. I could feel and poke and see my white tubby belly poking out from underneath my orange sweater. I was finally the pumpkin carriage that I’d desired to be. I’d filled out, with wobbly hips, thighs, even breasts. They are squeezing out of my bras. The beginnings of tiger stripes now joined the speckles on my skin. It had been a really rapid, reckless gain.

I was not the thin girl you’d seen around the college library or sports gymnasium anymore, but the fat girl you’d see at the donut shop down town, if you were lucky to catch me out of the house. I brushed my belly with one hand and my chubby chin with the other. I was positively plump.

And it was almost time for Christmas.

It was only now that I was really nervous, friends poking my tum and joking with me about winter weight I could handle, but family? A different story. It was going to be a big Christmas with all the rellies and my parents, none of whom had seen much of me since the start of the year.

I look at myself in the mirror, my fat tubby body spilling out of my underwear on all sides. There was going to be no hiding it, I have to embrace my bigger body, thankfully I still had one article of clothing that still fit, even if it strained outwards by an inch or two… Or three.

The thin wool sweater felt warm and tight on my soft skin. A lovely orange icing to cover my donut belly, mostly. I felt a bit ashamed but happy, and despite some looks my family kept it to themselves. Only a few ‘I know a good personal trainer if you’d like one’ or ‘are you sure you should be having that’ comments at the dinner table.

Then my relative arrived who had sent the sweater! They saw me and gave me the biggest hug, they were so glad I loved the present, and they were only sorry they hadn’t made it in a larger size. They reassured me though not to worry, and that they’d be sure to send one again next year that I shouldn’t have any problems with. I told them I loved the present and honestly, could not wait to try the next one on.

I think I’ll be enjoying sweater season for years to come.