Britt Reid
Library Editor
~BBW, Eating, Imagery, Pregnancy, ~SWG – one BBW’s roller coaster ride to self realization
Up until senior year of high school, I was skinny, and I thought I was happy. I was five feet even, 109 pounds. A healthy weight according to almost any doctor (this was from a physical examination I got the June after Junior year).
My parents had always wanted me to eat more, but I'd always resisted. That summer I got a job at a local ice cream parlor. I had a really long workday that started relatively early, so I had two options most mornings: eat a couple of Poptarts at home, or pick up an egg McMuffin or two on my way. Obviously neither of these would not be advisable by any competent dietician. To supplement that I'd buy a couple KitKats from the vending machine at work.
Again, due to hurriedness, I couldn't pack a lunch, so I was a regular at the McDonalds next door, but I never got dessert there because the owner where I worked had free ice cream for employees. My afternoons weren't too bad, because they tended to be busy so I didn't have a chance to snack.
When I got home I'd always be welcomed with a large meal and usually a dessert too. I tended to just change into some sweatpants and lounge on Facebook (which then was relatively new) or watch TV, often with a bag of chips.
What had at first been a small pinchable layer of fat had grown to become soft, jiggly, and grabable. My pudgy belly starting transitioning into a gut. Soft love handles have started to form to support the outward expansion. I now had a small pudgy roll beneath my belly button. But I ignored it.
I was completely sedentary for the first month of my summer break. I didn't weigh myself in June, but I'd guess I gained about ten pounds, so I'd have been about 120 by the end of the month. I had the fourth of July off since I live in America.
My relatives were all like my parents, thinking that most children today are too skinny, so nobody said anything about my weight. Also, at that time I hadn't noticed it either, and seeing pictures of me from then any new fat was spread out so it was pretty invisible.
I don't know how much exactly I ate, partly because there was tons of food, almost entirely desserts, spread out over a half-dozen buffet tables. I spent the whole day going around eating, trying some of this, a little of that, a lot of this, a lot of that. At one point I ate an entire platter of cookies. Needless to say, I was stuffed by the fireworks.
The next morning was the first time I noticed that my clothes didn't fit. I figured it was because I ate so much the day before, but I went out shopping any ways. I knew I was bloated, so I wasn't concerned when I only fit in clothes multiple sizes larger than I was used to. I knew I wasn't quite finished with puberty, and I was getting senioritis, so I wanted comfy baggy clothes. This led to me buying clothes that were even loose in the changing room, figuring I'd grow into them.
After the holiday, I went back to my old routine, working, eating, and lounging. Even with my extra large clothes, I was already starting to outgrow them by the beginning of August. The final straw was when, a few days into the new month, I tried to put on a skirt and blouse that had been loose in the dressing room on July 5th.
I was glad no one was around when I did it. I tried to put on the skirt first. As soon as I got it above my knees I realized it'd be tight. As I pulled it up farther, it got harder. Unbuttoned it fit, but I struggled to button it. I sucked in as much as I could, and was then just able to button it. I very slowly exhaled, and it stayed buttoned.
Then I got to the blouse. I put it on, and couldn't even get the top buttons done. This didn't phase me though, because it was my newly enlarged endowment blocking it. I got two buttoned in the middle, but then I got to my paunch and couldn't button any of the remaining buttons. I tried sucking in again, but I just couldn't do it.
I'd gone from a flat stomach and abs to soft, round and jiggly. I’d blossomed from nearly underweight to nearly overweight. All my jeans were too tight – I knew I should be buying pairs of pants in larger sizes but something in me liked my new muffin top. I'd gotten undeniably chubby, and knew I wouldn’t be able to to hide my gain. But did I even want to?
Finally I let my breath go, and that did it. The skirt button popped off, as did the few I had succeeded in buttoning on my blouse. Standing in my underwear, boobs spilling over, and a bit lower, my muffin top was continuing to expand, I decided it was time to see what the damage was. I walked into the bathroom, and stepped on the scale. As it spun around, I saw the needle land on ...154 pounds! (70 kilos, 11 stone exactly I think) I had gained over a third of my former body weight in about two months!
I was shocked, and I promised myself I'd diet. For a few days I tried, but that plan fell apart quickly, and I pretty much resumed my fattening lifestyle. By the time school resumed on September 1st I had gained still more weight. Shopping for school clothes made me start to realize again I was gaining. Nothing within several sizes of what I had bought Independence Day fit.
Actually I thought I only had a little bit of real chub –the kind people can only really tell when I was sitting down and had a slight bit of belly starting to hang over my jeans. At times I’d rub my gut and bathed in the erotic ecstasy. My jeans were all low riders, so they still fit and I wore them, getting used to the new chubbier me
The lack of fitting clothes of my last, larger size once again made me wonder about my weight. I wanted to weigh myself as soon as I got home. When I did, the scale read 176. Not as big a gain as the last one month period, but still huge.
This time I did something about it. I stopped buying food from vending machines and fast food places. I stuck with this plan and was proud of myself. However, because I thought I was eating healthier in one respect, I allowed myself liberties in other areas. I would eat desserts, I would ask for seconds, I would take any food my friends offered up at the lunch table at school.
One day I was at a community picnic and one of my friends got on my case.
"Should you really be having thst," she said, half joking, gesturing to the extra large cheese pasty and excessive bag of fries to match as I sat at the park picnic table while others played games to work off their luncvh. My shorts were a little too big when i got them, now they were tight around the waistband making my belly bulge over and giving me a fattened, round, out of shape look..
I had had lunch less than two hours ago, and my belly (tight against my t shirt) was beyond trying to conceal anything. Despite the caution howevr, but I decided to go back into town for more food with the excuse of us going out to eat late that night. My friends continued to tease lightheartedly about my slowly fattening up middle
The truth was that, despite my efforts, I still was gaining weight. Sitting down I couldn't even see my waistband with my belly slowly creeping towards my lap (although it wasn't there yet though!); standing up I had the beginnings of a belly hang that often surprised me by sticking out a little and touching kitchen surfaces when preparing food
As before, I didn't realize it for a while. This time it wasn't poorly fitting clothes (though they were) that encouraged me to get on the scale. One of my friends who'd I'd always thought of as fat, but was now about equal to me, bet me that my weight had surpassed hers. So, about a week after thanksgiving, at which I'd absolutely gorged myself, we weighed ourselves.
She went first. 208. In my mind, I let out a sigh, there was no way I'd passed the 200 pound mark! So I got on feeling confident, but I was quickly deflated when the scale said 217.I may have been obese, I'm not sure. But I felt it was too much. Starting immediately, I went on a diet.
At that moment I decided to lose weight. This wasn't like my previous attempt. Instead of cutting down in one area and up in another, I ate less across the board, ate better, and started exercising. It was a hardcore weight loss regimen, which my parents reluctantly tolerated.
I limited myself to 1,500 calories a day, and joined a gym, spending at least an hour, usually two there every day. I now admit this wasn't healthy, but at the time I was desperate to slim down. My diet was so drastic that I was just under 200 by Christmas.
Now that I'd hit a more reasonable weight, I relaxed my diet a bit. I spent more time working on my stomach than endurance exercise and I ate more meats. In the mean time, all the weight I'd lost had been in my stomach, almost none from my breasts.
That's when my life changed. I went to a party and got drunk. Really drunk. I woke up in the next day in a bed I'd never seen before with a hangover. I found my way home and told no one. However, by March, right at spring break, I began to believe I was pregnant, and the doctor confirmed it. I was nearly 4 months along. He told me I would need to lrt myself gain weight to make up for what I'd lost dieting so the baby would be healthy.
I was extremely glad then that I'd sworn off alcohol after I woke up in a strange bed. When I told my mom, she didn't get mad. Instead she just had me go on a "pregnancy diet", meaning at every meal I was required to eat thirds, plus snacks and dessert, and my gym membership was canceled.
News got out about my pregnancy, and I became a target of teasing, and the way I coped with this was eating. After the huge breakfast my mom gave me, I'd stop at the vending machine before school, in between 2nd and 3rd period, before and after lunch, between 6th and 7th, immediately after school, and again before boarding the bus.
I started gaining weight faster than I ever had before, helped by my child. It seemed every waking moment I was eating, whether it was chocolate, chips, ice cream, or cookies, I ate like I never had.
Two months later I went prom dress shopping, because it was 20 days away. I knew no one would ask me, and I was right, but I still wanted to go. I picked out a beautiful form-fitting green dress. I should have known better. When the prom was only week away, I tried it on, but to no avail. I'd out grown my prom dress. Crying, I told my mom and I got a new one and went to prom any way, but that was the last straw for me. As soon as the baby was born I wanted weight reduction surgery!
By August I had I gained (according to my weigh in after giving birth) 54 pounds, putting me just above 250, well over my previous weight max.
I went thru with the surgery and immediately dropped 15%. Over the next year as I nursed by new daughter I was really motivated to get thin despite very little parental support. I brought myself down to a relatively slim 162. I was ready to start attending college while mom watched over Georgie. I was at the best weight I'd been since my Junior year
When I got into college the Freshman gaining thing hitI was studying so much I never had time to workout or eat a decent meal. Whenever I was reading I'd have some chips and a soda close at hand to munch on. Soon I was going through up to 2 bags of lays or doritos or what have you each week. But that wasn’t the worst of it.
I would be eating most of my meals in the dining hall. I had never seen so many delicious foods in one place, and buffet style at that! An infinite amount of burgers, fries, pizza, fried chicken, mac and cheese, pasta, Mexican, and Chinese at my disposal. The dessert stand was the best though...donuts, cakes, pies, cookies, brownies, and ice cream, all of which were immediately restocked the minute they ran out!
After a little over a month of eating at the dining hall for hours at a time, I realized that none of my jeans were buttoning anymore. I decided to go to the gym to try to get back into shape but it was to no avail; I worked out more but I could not stop myself from eating all the amazing food!
It got to the point where I could barely do 10 sit ups without getting winded since my new bulging belly kept getting in the way. I figured it wasn't worth exercising anymore since I was just getting fatter anyway so I decided to just not worry and go on eating!
By thanksgiving, I was a good bit softer than I was at the start of the year, but I was wearing my "fat clothes" and didn't notice. On thanksgiving I totally pigged out, and that was when I started to feel my wardrobe shrinking a bit.
I was back to 200 lbs, my belly bouncing around whenever I walked and all of my shirts riding up on me! I felt that everyone I passed on campus was just staring at my fatty belly and giving me the funniest looks.
Part of me was enjoying being fat! I would sneak donuts out of the dining hall so I could have them between class, stuffing myself with sweets while busting out of my clothes
In December, I got into a relationship with a guy who was borderline emotionally abusive, always calling me a cow and telling me to get thin. With his constant berating about my weight I lost a lot of it and was back under 165 in March when I finally dumped him.
I then got into a relationship with Guy, the man I’m with now. He would always take me out to eat, get me large buttered popcorn at the theater, etc. He also had minor league season tickets and we went to almost every game. He insisted that I get a snack each inning, whether it be a hot dog, cotton candy, or a funnel cake. Under his encouragement I ate more than ever, and by summer my BMI was back to definitely overweight. This timer, however, I was happy and didn’t care.
He invited me to spend the first part of the summer at his house, even bringing Georgie along, and I accepted. His mom turned out to be an amazing chef, though it seemed she only knew how to make very rich dishes. In his house clearing your plate was an absolute requirement, and seconds were mandatory. This was never a problem for me
As you can imagine, this severely affected my waistline. On the night before my stay he and i were the last ones left at the table, everyone else having finished their dessert and left. My pants had been steadily getting tighter, but I thought nothing of it until on my first bite of my second (yes, I was pigging out) slice of chocolate cake,
I let out a breath I'd been holding in and the button on my shorts and two on my blouse burst simultaneously. when i realized what had happened, I was crying hysterically, I thought for sure he'd dump me for the fatty i was. But instead he came over and told me something he'd wanted to tell me a long time: he was a feeder!
At this I became very curious and he explained his attraction for larger girls. Now my earlier feelings about my body began to make sense. We decided to weigh me. I was 208 pounds – but because of him it didn’t bother me.
Then we started talking about how big I might get and he said it didn’t matter.. By the time summer ended, thanks to them, I was 246 pounds when I next saw him. He proposed on the spot and I said yes, and at this point I think I'm pregnant with his baby!
Oh if you're wondering about Georgie, my mother is taking care of her until I graduate; she loves having my daughter to replace me at college!
Fatty Freshmeat
By Poliki1234
(adapted by Marci from experienceproject.com)
By Poliki1234
(adapted by Marci from experienceproject.com)
Up until senior year of high school, I was skinny, and I thought I was happy. I was five feet even, 109 pounds. A healthy weight according to almost any doctor (this was from a physical examination I got the June after Junior year).
My parents had always wanted me to eat more, but I'd always resisted. That summer I got a job at a local ice cream parlor. I had a really long workday that started relatively early, so I had two options most mornings: eat a couple of Poptarts at home, or pick up an egg McMuffin or two on my way. Obviously neither of these would not be advisable by any competent dietician. To supplement that I'd buy a couple KitKats from the vending machine at work.
Again, due to hurriedness, I couldn't pack a lunch, so I was a regular at the McDonalds next door, but I never got dessert there because the owner where I worked had free ice cream for employees. My afternoons weren't too bad, because they tended to be busy so I didn't have a chance to snack.
When I got home I'd always be welcomed with a large meal and usually a dessert too. I tended to just change into some sweatpants and lounge on Facebook (which then was relatively new) or watch TV, often with a bag of chips.
What had at first been a small pinchable layer of fat had grown to become soft, jiggly, and grabable. My pudgy belly starting transitioning into a gut. Soft love handles have started to form to support the outward expansion. I now had a small pudgy roll beneath my belly button. But I ignored it.
I was completely sedentary for the first month of my summer break. I didn't weigh myself in June, but I'd guess I gained about ten pounds, so I'd have been about 120 by the end of the month. I had the fourth of July off since I live in America.
My relatives were all like my parents, thinking that most children today are too skinny, so nobody said anything about my weight. Also, at that time I hadn't noticed it either, and seeing pictures of me from then any new fat was spread out so it was pretty invisible.
I don't know how much exactly I ate, partly because there was tons of food, almost entirely desserts, spread out over a half-dozen buffet tables. I spent the whole day going around eating, trying some of this, a little of that, a lot of this, a lot of that. At one point I ate an entire platter of cookies. Needless to say, I was stuffed by the fireworks.
The next morning was the first time I noticed that my clothes didn't fit. I figured it was because I ate so much the day before, but I went out shopping any ways. I knew I was bloated, so I wasn't concerned when I only fit in clothes multiple sizes larger than I was used to. I knew I wasn't quite finished with puberty, and I was getting senioritis, so I wanted comfy baggy clothes. This led to me buying clothes that were even loose in the changing room, figuring I'd grow into them.
After the holiday, I went back to my old routine, working, eating, and lounging. Even with my extra large clothes, I was already starting to outgrow them by the beginning of August. The final straw was when, a few days into the new month, I tried to put on a skirt and blouse that had been loose in the dressing room on July 5th.
I was glad no one was around when I did it. I tried to put on the skirt first. As soon as I got it above my knees I realized it'd be tight. As I pulled it up farther, it got harder. Unbuttoned it fit, but I struggled to button it. I sucked in as much as I could, and was then just able to button it. I very slowly exhaled, and it stayed buttoned.
Then I got to the blouse. I put it on, and couldn't even get the top buttons done. This didn't phase me though, because it was my newly enlarged endowment blocking it. I got two buttoned in the middle, but then I got to my paunch and couldn't button any of the remaining buttons. I tried sucking in again, but I just couldn't do it.
I'd gone from a flat stomach and abs to soft, round and jiggly. I’d blossomed from nearly underweight to nearly overweight. All my jeans were too tight – I knew I should be buying pairs of pants in larger sizes but something in me liked my new muffin top. I'd gotten undeniably chubby, and knew I wouldn’t be able to to hide my gain. But did I even want to?
Finally I let my breath go, and that did it. The skirt button popped off, as did the few I had succeeded in buttoning on my blouse. Standing in my underwear, boobs spilling over, and a bit lower, my muffin top was continuing to expand, I decided it was time to see what the damage was. I walked into the bathroom, and stepped on the scale. As it spun around, I saw the needle land on ...154 pounds! (70 kilos, 11 stone exactly I think) I had gained over a third of my former body weight in about two months!
I was shocked, and I promised myself I'd diet. For a few days I tried, but that plan fell apart quickly, and I pretty much resumed my fattening lifestyle. By the time school resumed on September 1st I had gained still more weight. Shopping for school clothes made me start to realize again I was gaining. Nothing within several sizes of what I had bought Independence Day fit.
Actually I thought I only had a little bit of real chub –the kind people can only really tell when I was sitting down and had a slight bit of belly starting to hang over my jeans. At times I’d rub my gut and bathed in the erotic ecstasy. My jeans were all low riders, so they still fit and I wore them, getting used to the new chubbier me
The lack of fitting clothes of my last, larger size once again made me wonder about my weight. I wanted to weigh myself as soon as I got home. When I did, the scale read 176. Not as big a gain as the last one month period, but still huge.
This time I did something about it. I stopped buying food from vending machines and fast food places. I stuck with this plan and was proud of myself. However, because I thought I was eating healthier in one respect, I allowed myself liberties in other areas. I would eat desserts, I would ask for seconds, I would take any food my friends offered up at the lunch table at school.
One day I was at a community picnic and one of my friends got on my case.
"Should you really be having thst," she said, half joking, gesturing to the extra large cheese pasty and excessive bag of fries to match as I sat at the park picnic table while others played games to work off their luncvh. My shorts were a little too big when i got them, now they were tight around the waistband making my belly bulge over and giving me a fattened, round, out of shape look..
I had had lunch less than two hours ago, and my belly (tight against my t shirt) was beyond trying to conceal anything. Despite the caution howevr, but I decided to go back into town for more food with the excuse of us going out to eat late that night. My friends continued to tease lightheartedly about my slowly fattening up middle
The truth was that, despite my efforts, I still was gaining weight. Sitting down I couldn't even see my waistband with my belly slowly creeping towards my lap (although it wasn't there yet though!); standing up I had the beginnings of a belly hang that often surprised me by sticking out a little and touching kitchen surfaces when preparing food
As before, I didn't realize it for a while. This time it wasn't poorly fitting clothes (though they were) that encouraged me to get on the scale. One of my friends who'd I'd always thought of as fat, but was now about equal to me, bet me that my weight had surpassed hers. So, about a week after thanksgiving, at which I'd absolutely gorged myself, we weighed ourselves.
She went first. 208. In my mind, I let out a sigh, there was no way I'd passed the 200 pound mark! So I got on feeling confident, but I was quickly deflated when the scale said 217.I may have been obese, I'm not sure. But I felt it was too much. Starting immediately, I went on a diet.
At that moment I decided to lose weight. This wasn't like my previous attempt. Instead of cutting down in one area and up in another, I ate less across the board, ate better, and started exercising. It was a hardcore weight loss regimen, which my parents reluctantly tolerated.
I limited myself to 1,500 calories a day, and joined a gym, spending at least an hour, usually two there every day. I now admit this wasn't healthy, but at the time I was desperate to slim down. My diet was so drastic that I was just under 200 by Christmas.
Now that I'd hit a more reasonable weight, I relaxed my diet a bit. I spent more time working on my stomach than endurance exercise and I ate more meats. In the mean time, all the weight I'd lost had been in my stomach, almost none from my breasts.
That's when my life changed. I went to a party and got drunk. Really drunk. I woke up in the next day in a bed I'd never seen before with a hangover. I found my way home and told no one. However, by March, right at spring break, I began to believe I was pregnant, and the doctor confirmed it. I was nearly 4 months along. He told me I would need to lrt myself gain weight to make up for what I'd lost dieting so the baby would be healthy.
I was extremely glad then that I'd sworn off alcohol after I woke up in a strange bed. When I told my mom, she didn't get mad. Instead she just had me go on a "pregnancy diet", meaning at every meal I was required to eat thirds, plus snacks and dessert, and my gym membership was canceled.
News got out about my pregnancy, and I became a target of teasing, and the way I coped with this was eating. After the huge breakfast my mom gave me, I'd stop at the vending machine before school, in between 2nd and 3rd period, before and after lunch, between 6th and 7th, immediately after school, and again before boarding the bus.
I started gaining weight faster than I ever had before, helped by my child. It seemed every waking moment I was eating, whether it was chocolate, chips, ice cream, or cookies, I ate like I never had.
Two months later I went prom dress shopping, because it was 20 days away. I knew no one would ask me, and I was right, but I still wanted to go. I picked out a beautiful form-fitting green dress. I should have known better. When the prom was only week away, I tried it on, but to no avail. I'd out grown my prom dress. Crying, I told my mom and I got a new one and went to prom any way, but that was the last straw for me. As soon as the baby was born I wanted weight reduction surgery!
By August I had I gained (according to my weigh in after giving birth) 54 pounds, putting me just above 250, well over my previous weight max.
I went thru with the surgery and immediately dropped 15%. Over the next year as I nursed by new daughter I was really motivated to get thin despite very little parental support. I brought myself down to a relatively slim 162. I was ready to start attending college while mom watched over Georgie. I was at the best weight I'd been since my Junior year
When I got into college the Freshman gaining thing hitI was studying so much I never had time to workout or eat a decent meal. Whenever I was reading I'd have some chips and a soda close at hand to munch on. Soon I was going through up to 2 bags of lays or doritos or what have you each week. But that wasn’t the worst of it.
I would be eating most of my meals in the dining hall. I had never seen so many delicious foods in one place, and buffet style at that! An infinite amount of burgers, fries, pizza, fried chicken, mac and cheese, pasta, Mexican, and Chinese at my disposal. The dessert stand was the best though...donuts, cakes, pies, cookies, brownies, and ice cream, all of which were immediately restocked the minute they ran out!
After a little over a month of eating at the dining hall for hours at a time, I realized that none of my jeans were buttoning anymore. I decided to go to the gym to try to get back into shape but it was to no avail; I worked out more but I could not stop myself from eating all the amazing food!
It got to the point where I could barely do 10 sit ups without getting winded since my new bulging belly kept getting in the way. I figured it wasn't worth exercising anymore since I was just getting fatter anyway so I decided to just not worry and go on eating!
By thanksgiving, I was a good bit softer than I was at the start of the year, but I was wearing my "fat clothes" and didn't notice. On thanksgiving I totally pigged out, and that was when I started to feel my wardrobe shrinking a bit.
I was back to 200 lbs, my belly bouncing around whenever I walked and all of my shirts riding up on me! I felt that everyone I passed on campus was just staring at my fatty belly and giving me the funniest looks.
Part of me was enjoying being fat! I would sneak donuts out of the dining hall so I could have them between class, stuffing myself with sweets while busting out of my clothes
In December, I got into a relationship with a guy who was borderline emotionally abusive, always calling me a cow and telling me to get thin. With his constant berating about my weight I lost a lot of it and was back under 165 in March when I finally dumped him.
I then got into a relationship with Guy, the man I’m with now. He would always take me out to eat, get me large buttered popcorn at the theater, etc. He also had minor league season tickets and we went to almost every game. He insisted that I get a snack each inning, whether it be a hot dog, cotton candy, or a funnel cake. Under his encouragement I ate more than ever, and by summer my BMI was back to definitely overweight. This timer, however, I was happy and didn’t care.
He invited me to spend the first part of the summer at his house, even bringing Georgie along, and I accepted. His mom turned out to be an amazing chef, though it seemed she only knew how to make very rich dishes. In his house clearing your plate was an absolute requirement, and seconds were mandatory. This was never a problem for me
As you can imagine, this severely affected my waistline. On the night before my stay he and i were the last ones left at the table, everyone else having finished their dessert and left. My pants had been steadily getting tighter, but I thought nothing of it until on my first bite of my second (yes, I was pigging out) slice of chocolate cake,
I let out a breath I'd been holding in and the button on my shorts and two on my blouse burst simultaneously. when i realized what had happened, I was crying hysterically, I thought for sure he'd dump me for the fatty i was. But instead he came over and told me something he'd wanted to tell me a long time: he was a feeder!
At this I became very curious and he explained his attraction for larger girls. Now my earlier feelings about my body began to make sense. We decided to weigh me. I was 208 pounds – but because of him it didn’t bother me.
Then we started talking about how big I might get and he said it didn’t matter.. By the time summer ended, thanks to them, I was 246 pounds when I next saw him. He proposed on the spot and I said yes, and at this point I think I'm pregnant with his baby!
Oh if you're wondering about Georgie, my mother is taking care of her until I graduate; she loves having my daughter to replace me at college!
