fireonthemountain
Well-Known Member
Note by Author: I wrote this story about 15 years ago under the name “The Taxidermy.” (Its somewhere in the BHM archives of Dims. It was a poorly written story including bad dialogue and poorly written characters, especially my male protagonist. I felt he deserved to be written better and to have a happier ending. I saved the story on my laptop to revise, the muse hit, and here we are. Additionally, I wanted to tell a story that reminisced about the old days of Dims, with an active message board and chat room. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the nostalgia.
Quick note: while both my protagonists stories begin in high school; they are both 18 and consenting adults; therefore this story should not violate the terms and conditions of the Story Board. If I am; please let me know.
1
Chelsea Grover ran her French manicured fingers through her long brown hair as the boredom of Anatomy and Biology hit her full force. She was in her last semester of her senior year and Mr. McMalasky made it clear on multiple occasions that if she didn’t pass, not only would she not walk with her classmates at commencement ceremony in two months, she would need to retake the course in summer school.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of panting and thudding footsteps coming from down the hall. Dakota Smith came running in, his round belly jiggling with every step he took. He tripped on the floor, spilling the contents of his backpack. Several popular boys near Chelsea laughed. She felt helpless because she couldn’t get up to help him. How could she?
Chelsea had a crush on Dakota since they were both freshman. She had transferred from a small Catholic school and as a beautiful young girl with affluent parents it was her destiny to become one of the most popular girls in school. Dakota, who was overweight and not as stylish as she was, found himself an outcast and was often found hanging out with the offbeats. The nerds, the drama kids. Chelsea found they often started rumors about her and her friends. Not that sitting with Chelsea’s group would have been any better. They were just as shallow and catty in their own way. Dakota probably thought she was a snobby bitch, an entitled rich girl, a moron, an easy lay. Money can’t buy class. Thats what she would catch the girls in drama club saying behind her back. The usual routine was that Chelsea would find out, tell her friends and her friends would threaten them with violence. She wished she could break the cycle. She wished she could properly introduce herself to Dakota, instead of admiring her fat Adonis from afar. Throughout her academic career at Northeastern High School, she’d never spoken to him once.
Chelsea found that the high school hierarchy was becoming tedious. She found herself bored with petty gossip and fed up with the brain-dead jocks leaving on football scholarships. She’d date them because it was the acceptable thing to do, but there was never a connection with any of them: physically or emotionally. Most of all she hated the irony that she was known for being one of the prettiest girls and not being able to have the one guy she truly desired.
She learned to cope with her frustration the summer of her freshman year. She would scrounge the Internet for websites, support, anything that would make her feel less like a freak. She had even joined a message board for FFA’s (as she learned, this was code for female fat admirers). The women on the message board told her she wasn’t a freak for her sexual preference, but society was telling her otherwise.
She especially enjoyed coming back from summer vacation. Dakota’s weight had plateaued at 335, but he started high school at 259. Watching him gain was exciting to her: She would watch him in her classes, his soft belly forming rolls and hanging down when he sat. She thought about how nice it would be to bury her face in his ample belly or at least run her fingers along his stretch marks.
"Chelsea..Chelsea.." Mr. McMalasky put his hand on her bony shoulder and shook.
“Huh?”
“Slept through my class again, I see? I apologize I couldn’t be more entertaining.” he remarked dryly, his flat affect comparable to Ben Stein. “Well, no matter. Please come to my desk. Mr. Smith, I’d like to see you too.”
She’d slept through Anatomic Biology again. Oh shit! She thought This is probably the last straw. Her embarrassing fate of missing graduation, summer school, how angry her parents would be was sealed. But wait? Why did he want to talk to Dakota as well? Dakota was more than just handsome. He was smart; certainly not in any kind of academic trouble. From what little she knew of him, Chelsea knew he always made the honor roll without fail. She grabbed her designer bag and shimmied over to Mr. McMalasky’s desk. She looked at Dakota and he looked away.
He was 6 foot 3 and he had a perfectly round belly, almost like that of a Buddha statue, but with more of a "spare tire shape”. He had shoulder length blonde hair and deep green eyes, almost like you could see his soul in them. He wore his usual cargo shorts and a band t-shirt. He wasn’t going to make best dressed at Northwestern High, but Chelsea wouldn't change a thing about the boy standing in front of her.
Mr. McMalasky approached them, leaning over almost so far that they were looking into the top of his balding head instead of his face. He seemed disappointed, yet somewhat hopeful. He lifted his head and spoke:
"Miss Grover, you have a 59 per-cent in this class. Now, Bs and C’s get degrees, but a 59 won’t even get you a high school diploma”
Chelsea looked as if she was about to cry “Mr.McMalasky, please! I'll do anything! My parents will kill me if I don't graduate. I really don’t want to go to summer school. Please, I’ll do what it takes!”
She swore she could have seen Dakota roll his eyes at her while she was pleading with the older man.
Mr. McMalasky calmly responded: “Chelsea, I’ve already spoken with your mother about your grades. We discussed your options and she thinks that what I'm about to do is a good idea. Dakota has been a Mathematics and Science tutor for three years and he’s an A student. You could learn a lot from him. I’ve already spoken to him and he’s agreed to take you on as a student. So, you kids have fun, knock yourselves out. And get to your next classes. Chop chop!” he continued in his monotone voice, “I don’t want to see tardy students, do you understand?"
"Yes Mr. McMalasky." They both responded in unison.
They parted, Chelsea leaving with her best friends Samantha and Krystal for a mirror check and Dakota leaving with a pale girl in a tie dyed shirt.
2
"I’m sorry Dakota, I’ve just…I just can’t be with you anymore. I’ve met someone else. We’re growing apart. You're not the same person I’ve been with since freshman year…"
Natalie’s voice played over and over in his head as he left the massive brick school building. He felt sick, betrayed, screwed over. He wanted to throw up. Dakota had met Natalie during his freshman year. She was his only love, the only one who really knew him. He felt tears burning in his emerald green eyes as he got behind the wheel of his car. It was getting hard for him to fit into the old Saturn. He looked down at his massive belly with regret.
Natalie was a feeder. In the 3 years they had been together, he put on 95 lbs. He loved the look on her face when he told her he’d gained a few more pounds, when she saw an extra roll in his chubby body, and when she would watch him wolf down enormous portions of food. Occasionally she would force feed him. That was her kink. Her dad owned a bakery and she’d always have extra goodies around.
After school, they’d do their homework and then she’d make him lie down and stuff him full of fattening treats, no matter how full he was. She’d stuff him so he wouldn’t be able to move-then they’d make love. It was like a ritual.
Now he looked at himself. Who would want a tub of lard like him? She would leave to be a theatre major; probably performing on Broadway. And him? Best he could hope for was to become an obese tech guy living in a basement. Yep. An obese nerd who never goes out and never has anyone come see him. Unless it’s the pizza man, he thought bitterly. He continued his self directed vitriolic thoughts until tears burned down his chubby cheeks as he drove to Chelsea’s house. Self preservation kicked in and he quickly wiped them away.
Perfect fucking end to my day" he thought, “Time to try to help a hopelessly stupid rich girl while she cracks fat jokes at my expense. I wouldn't have even be here if the princess’ parents weren’t paying me extremely well for my time.”
Quick note: while both my protagonists stories begin in high school; they are both 18 and consenting adults; therefore this story should not violate the terms and conditions of the Story Board. If I am; please let me know.
His Student's Secret
by fireonthemountain
by fireonthemountain
1
Chelsea Grover ran her French manicured fingers through her long brown hair as the boredom of Anatomy and Biology hit her full force. She was in her last semester of her senior year and Mr. McMalasky made it clear on multiple occasions that if she didn’t pass, not only would she not walk with her classmates at commencement ceremony in two months, she would need to retake the course in summer school.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of panting and thudding footsteps coming from down the hall. Dakota Smith came running in, his round belly jiggling with every step he took. He tripped on the floor, spilling the contents of his backpack. Several popular boys near Chelsea laughed. She felt helpless because she couldn’t get up to help him. How could she?
Chelsea had a crush on Dakota since they were both freshman. She had transferred from a small Catholic school and as a beautiful young girl with affluent parents it was her destiny to become one of the most popular girls in school. Dakota, who was overweight and not as stylish as she was, found himself an outcast and was often found hanging out with the offbeats. The nerds, the drama kids. Chelsea found they often started rumors about her and her friends. Not that sitting with Chelsea’s group would have been any better. They were just as shallow and catty in their own way. Dakota probably thought she was a snobby bitch, an entitled rich girl, a moron, an easy lay. Money can’t buy class. Thats what she would catch the girls in drama club saying behind her back. The usual routine was that Chelsea would find out, tell her friends and her friends would threaten them with violence. She wished she could break the cycle. She wished she could properly introduce herself to Dakota, instead of admiring her fat Adonis from afar. Throughout her academic career at Northeastern High School, she’d never spoken to him once.
Chelsea found that the high school hierarchy was becoming tedious. She found herself bored with petty gossip and fed up with the brain-dead jocks leaving on football scholarships. She’d date them because it was the acceptable thing to do, but there was never a connection with any of them: physically or emotionally. Most of all she hated the irony that she was known for being one of the prettiest girls and not being able to have the one guy she truly desired.
She learned to cope with her frustration the summer of her freshman year. She would scrounge the Internet for websites, support, anything that would make her feel less like a freak. She had even joined a message board for FFA’s (as she learned, this was code for female fat admirers). The women on the message board told her she wasn’t a freak for her sexual preference, but society was telling her otherwise.
She especially enjoyed coming back from summer vacation. Dakota’s weight had plateaued at 335, but he started high school at 259. Watching him gain was exciting to her: She would watch him in her classes, his soft belly forming rolls and hanging down when he sat. She thought about how nice it would be to bury her face in his ample belly or at least run her fingers along his stretch marks.
"Chelsea..Chelsea.." Mr. McMalasky put his hand on her bony shoulder and shook.
“Huh?”
“Slept through my class again, I see? I apologize I couldn’t be more entertaining.” he remarked dryly, his flat affect comparable to Ben Stein. “Well, no matter. Please come to my desk. Mr. Smith, I’d like to see you too.”
She’d slept through Anatomic Biology again. Oh shit! She thought This is probably the last straw. Her embarrassing fate of missing graduation, summer school, how angry her parents would be was sealed. But wait? Why did he want to talk to Dakota as well? Dakota was more than just handsome. He was smart; certainly not in any kind of academic trouble. From what little she knew of him, Chelsea knew he always made the honor roll without fail. She grabbed her designer bag and shimmied over to Mr. McMalasky’s desk. She looked at Dakota and he looked away.
He was 6 foot 3 and he had a perfectly round belly, almost like that of a Buddha statue, but with more of a "spare tire shape”. He had shoulder length blonde hair and deep green eyes, almost like you could see his soul in them. He wore his usual cargo shorts and a band t-shirt. He wasn’t going to make best dressed at Northwestern High, but Chelsea wouldn't change a thing about the boy standing in front of her.
Mr. McMalasky approached them, leaning over almost so far that they were looking into the top of his balding head instead of his face. He seemed disappointed, yet somewhat hopeful. He lifted his head and spoke:
"Miss Grover, you have a 59 per-cent in this class. Now, Bs and C’s get degrees, but a 59 won’t even get you a high school diploma”
Chelsea looked as if she was about to cry “Mr.McMalasky, please! I'll do anything! My parents will kill me if I don't graduate. I really don’t want to go to summer school. Please, I’ll do what it takes!”
She swore she could have seen Dakota roll his eyes at her while she was pleading with the older man.
Mr. McMalasky calmly responded: “Chelsea, I’ve already spoken with your mother about your grades. We discussed your options and she thinks that what I'm about to do is a good idea. Dakota has been a Mathematics and Science tutor for three years and he’s an A student. You could learn a lot from him. I’ve already spoken to him and he’s agreed to take you on as a student. So, you kids have fun, knock yourselves out. And get to your next classes. Chop chop!” he continued in his monotone voice, “I don’t want to see tardy students, do you understand?"
"Yes Mr. McMalasky." They both responded in unison.
They parted, Chelsea leaving with her best friends Samantha and Krystal for a mirror check and Dakota leaving with a pale girl in a tie dyed shirt.
2
"I’m sorry Dakota, I’ve just…I just can’t be with you anymore. I’ve met someone else. We’re growing apart. You're not the same person I’ve been with since freshman year…"
Natalie’s voice played over and over in his head as he left the massive brick school building. He felt sick, betrayed, screwed over. He wanted to throw up. Dakota had met Natalie during his freshman year. She was his only love, the only one who really knew him. He felt tears burning in his emerald green eyes as he got behind the wheel of his car. It was getting hard for him to fit into the old Saturn. He looked down at his massive belly with regret.
Natalie was a feeder. In the 3 years they had been together, he put on 95 lbs. He loved the look on her face when he told her he’d gained a few more pounds, when she saw an extra roll in his chubby body, and when she would watch him wolf down enormous portions of food. Occasionally she would force feed him. That was her kink. Her dad owned a bakery and she’d always have extra goodies around.
After school, they’d do their homework and then she’d make him lie down and stuff him full of fattening treats, no matter how full he was. She’d stuff him so he wouldn’t be able to move-then they’d make love. It was like a ritual.
Now he looked at himself. Who would want a tub of lard like him? She would leave to be a theatre major; probably performing on Broadway. And him? Best he could hope for was to become an obese tech guy living in a basement. Yep. An obese nerd who never goes out and never has anyone come see him. Unless it’s the pizza man, he thought bitterly. He continued his self directed vitriolic thoughts until tears burned down his chubby cheeks as he drove to Chelsea’s house. Self preservation kicked in and he quickly wiped them away.
Perfect fucking end to my day" he thought, “Time to try to help a hopelessly stupid rich girl while she cracks fat jokes at my expense. I wouldn't have even be here if the princess’ parents weren’t paying me extremely well for my time.”
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