Facebook Chronicles of a Party Girl's Fattening
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Megan Welcher was so jealous of the girl in the picture.
She was a pretty, young thing, a bit chubby to be sure, particularly about the middle, but a far cry from being 'big.' Her smile was framed by her smooth, golden-brown cheeks, and the slightest hint of a double chin. Around this undeniably pretty face, her shining blonde hair flowed down, waving and curling around her face. Slight tummy pudge aside, this girl was a teenager's ideal woman, a beautiful face attached to a round, firm C-cup chest, featuring wide, fertile hips, and full, pink lips. She wasn't a tall girl, but her Daisy Dukes left the entirety of her smooth, golden legs visible, even as they were tested by a thin layer of chub at the tops of them.
Then, Megan read the caption, I almost didn't post this, since I'm such a fatty here, but whatever!
Her jealousy turned to irritation as she looked at the girl in the photo, in her shorts and black top. She scowled at the barely-chubby beauty who dared to complain about carrying an extra five, ten pounds around on her stomach. Maybe she feels fat, Megan thought, with her tummy popping out like half an inch or whatever that is, but that girl don't have any idea what fat is.
Megan looked down, her eyes meeting with the bulge of her cleavage, and a bit further down, the swollen dome of her belly. That was what 'fat' looked like, Megan knew. After everything that had happened the past few years, she knew what being fat was. The girl in the photo might have gotten too fat for a pair of pants, but Megan had gotten too fat for entire stores. She looked again at the screen, analyzing everything about her, the smooth curves of her hips, and that little pooch of fat, finally guessing she weighed maybe 125 pounds in that picture. Megan thought back to her last doctor's appointment, when he'd looked at her so solemnly, told her she was 230 pounds. He put her on a diet, she recalled, but that had lasted all the way until she saw a Burger King.
She clicked the next button a few times, trying to distract herself from the memory of the doctor's office, and to distract herself from the fact that she outweighed this girl by over 100 pounds, stopping when something caught her eye.
It was a video clip. The girl was the center-of-attention, seated on a couch, wearing a navy-blue shirt that clung close to her tummy. The camera was to the side of her, the profile angle doing nothing positive for that stomach. The stomach that was looking chunkier than in that last photo. That was what got Megan's attention, that chubbier tummy, poking out into her lap. The caption on this one just read simply, Showing Janie how it's DONE!
Megan pressed play.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The video began with the preview shot, a slightly overweight woman, sitting on a couch all alone. In front of her sat a coffee table. She began talking to someone off camera, Come on, Janie, please?
The off-camera friend answered, I told you, I'm not gonna do it!
A pouty face, and a high-pitched plea later, Pwetty pwease, Janie? Pwetty pwease wif a chewwy on top? Janie reconsidered.
Damn you and your adorable little puppy dog face. Janie lamented, coming into view. She was a big girl, by anyone's definition, a very well-fed brunette, her wide hips and thunder thighs filling out her black pants well. Unlike her friend, her stomach seemed content to remain contained by her waistband, though its softness was evident. She sighed as she sat down, Let's get this whole thing over with, then.
The friend laughed, Yay yay! She reached down below the coffee table, and pulled up two medium-sized pizzas, Okay, so on the count of three, we both open our box and start eating. First one done, wins. Any questions?
Yeah. Why are we doing this?
This question was answered with an eye roll, and the countdown began.
One. . . two. . . three. . .
And the binge began. Both of them, even Janie, who wasn't sure why she was doing this, got into it. They sat there on the sofa, shoving fattening wedges of meat, bread and cheese down their greedy gullets, bite after bite, their stomachs filling up with calorie overload, and still they ate, in fierce competition with one another, no thought given to fullness. From the start, they were both approaching maximum capacity of their outfits, Janie in the waistband department, and her friend literally everywhere, and during their feasting, they found it necessary to unbutton their pants, remove their belts, making way for their swelling bellies.
Finally, with a triumphant fist pump, the bloated blond beauty celebrated her victory, tossing her emptied pizza box at her fatter friend, Boo-yah! Her hands went to rubbing her distended abdomen, Told you I could do it!
Janie winced as her friend's projectile pizza packaging collided with the full dome of her gut. She set down the last half of her final slice and half-heartedly congratulated her friend, Woo, go you. She shifted her weight with a grunt, Now. . . What was the point of all that, again?
Her friend burped, then laughed, 'Cause no one ever believes me when I tell 'em how I eat! Now I got it on camera!
Janie looked at her friend uneasily, You know. . . you eat like this on the regular, you're gonna get fat. She grabbed a handful of flab at her side, That's where all this came from.
Uh, I'm sorry, have you met me? Seen me lately? I'm over here, the fat little piggy with her great fat belly hanging out the bottom of her shirt! I'm not about to get fat, I already am fat!
Janie made a face just then, as the video was ending. Megan didn't know the word for that expression, but she knew exactly what it meant. She felt the same way, watching the way this girl was stuffing her face and talking like she was already a five hundred pound blob of blubber. It was a combination of emotions, a cross between the irritation of this relatively thin person calling themselves fat, and the knowledge that unless something changes, they soon will be.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The next few were a high school graduation ceremony, caps and gowns, basic boring stuff, but then came the pictures from the graduation party.
From the first photo, it was clear the woman hadn't heeded Janie's warnings. She was bigger than ever, significantly. She was more than 'a little chubby' now, more than just 'healthy.' She was looking over-fed, her stomach bulging further than ever, and her hips and bottom taking the brunt of the new weight. That 100 pound difference between where she was and where Megan was, not 100 pounds anymore. That gap was shrinking, while her waistline was growing.
She was wearing, or rather, was terrorizing, a black and white striped dress, the horizontal lines exaggerating her fattened figure. It was short, looking to have been bought when there was generally less woman to cover. She was decent, but if her appetite had anything to say about it, she wouldn't be for long. In one hand, she held a piece of chocolate cake, and in the other, an open beer can.
The next several shots were uploaded by others, Megan knew that without looking, there was no way any rational woman would intentionally upload such unflattering photos. Each frame, it looked like every one of her extra pounds were sitting heavily on her, rounding her out. There wasn't much variation between what was in them, either, each one featured the girl prominently, eating, drinking, usually sitting on her bulbous behind, and in a few pictures, by the serving table, gathering more empty calories and alcohol. As Megan clicked through them, there was a progression, an obvious progression, as the girl became more and more intoxicated, and her soft, chubby stomach filled with more and more cake and ice cream.
None of these photos had any comments, until one.
In that one, she had fallen over onto her side, on the sofa, a broad smile crossing her rosy, chocolate-stained cheeks, another large piece of cake beside her, one hand clutching a beer, and the other resting on her side, fingers sinking slightly into the softness. Her dress was riding up to the point of near-indecency, leaving a great deal of her thighs on display, their once-smooth surface sprinkled with a spatter of cellulite.
On this one, the girl had felt it necessary to comment, to beg the poster, Derek, PLEASE, take this down! I look like frickin' Shamoo!
To which Derek had replied, It's not that bad, don't be so hard on yourself
Megan winced at that one. How much thinner she would be, were it not for people like Derek, the ones who enabled her gaining, who were right there with her when she outgrew her pants, assuring herself it was because of the washer, and not because of that second pint of ice cream the night before. There was no doubt that, because of Derek's niceness, because of his 'it's not so bad,' this girl would be back to the party life in no time flat, drinking gallons of high calorie alcohol and eating empty-calorie junk food by the pound.
Three or four photos later, sure enough, there it was, a beach party, featuring the plumpened peach herself, though at this point, 'plump' was the term only used when being delicate. She had crossed far into obesity territory, and in her blue and white striped bikini, every one of those extra pounds was on display. As usual, it was her thick, heavy belly that took center stage, a meaty sheet of blubber, but there was just so much more to see!
She was becoming distinctly pear-shaped, with her broad hips, and juicy thunder thighs. Those minor deposits of dimples that had been visible in the party pictures, they had multiplied, covering more than ever. Her already ample chest looked to have improved a cup size or two, losing some of it's firmness, but growing larger than ever, drooping slightly over her abdomen.
The next picture, there she was again, and from the sloshed look on her face, and the way she didn't appear to care about her breasts escaping their spandex prisons, the boozing had begun. Ten, fifteen pictures in a row, all showing this girl drinking, posing with a keg, lazing around by the pool, all with the same caption: College, here I come!
Megan knew what was about to happen, pictures and pictures, the girl getting fatter and fatter, the famed 'freshman fifteen.' She'd been watching it happen all night, and the girl hadn't even started college yet! She felt conflicted about looking through those photos, but went ahead and began.
Only, there weren't any.
There were a few, here and there, all of them showing the girl in big, baggy clothes, her true size a secret.
Then, an explanation.
The photo wasn't a social sort of picture, unlike the rest. It was just a selfie, a selfie in the bathroom mirror, the girl dressed in nothing more than her outgrown underwear.
This seemed out of place, so before examining the photo closer, she read the caption: This is super embarrassing, but if I'm gonna do this, I gotta do it right. I got fat this year. Freshman fifteen, all that. I actually got drunk the other night and deleted everything from this last year, and that's just not cool. So this is me now, I'm posting this to keep me accountable. This is me saying I'm gonna get slim, healthy, and be active from here on out.
Megan looked back to the picture, and had to say, the freshman fifteen was an understatement. Everything about her looked inflated with flab, from her arms down to her ankles. Even her still relatively small chest was bubbling out of the edges of her bra. If that caption meant anything, this was going to be a big change.
Only, the caption didn't mean anything.
There were no progress updates, just normal photos doing normal things, the partying resumed, and with it, the subtle swelling of her fattened body.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Megan's journey through the rest of the photos was quick, one after another, no more long analytical pauses, just on to the next. There were no updates on this supposed 'weight loss program' she'd embarked on, just the declaration of the diet beginning, and then nothing. And Megan knew there was nothing, for the same reason she'd known how things would progress the entire time she'd been looking through photos.
She went back to the homepage and typed up a new status about the experience:
I literally cannot even believe how fat I've got. Just went through all my old pics and seriously wonder how the hell I ever thought I was fat. I see that and I'm like, I frickin' WISH I was that tiny! God, I am seriously never gonna lose all this.
