Jamie Got Fat by Someyoungguy SSBBW, Extreme Eating, ~XWG

[BTB]

SSBBW, Extreme Eating, ~XWG - After Jamie has finished High school, she takes steps for her future.

(Poster note: this was posted on the boards in 2002. According to the author it starts out based on a true story, but gets pretty unrealistic as the heroine gets unrealistically huge. )

Jamie Got Fat
by Someyoungguy ​

Part I:

Jamie’s thighs shook violently as she waddled from her seat on the couch into the kitchen. Due to the size of her thighs, she swayed back and forth as she walked, her belly bouncing up and down. Moaning out loud due to the strain of the long walk into the kitchen, she paused to catch her breath before opening the fridge door. The fridge was almost empty.

Her dad was out of town for a week; Jamie had graduated high school a month prior, and was headed to NYU for college in the fall on a full ride. The past four years of studying had paid off!

A full ride scholarship to a good school, a prospective job interning for a start up dot com, and nearly two hundred pounds were all Jamie got out of high school. She was a three hundred fifty pound eighteen year old brunette and had a future ahead of her that included four more years of school followed by a six-digit income for sitting behind a computer screen.

She sat down in front of the television, with a gallon of ice cream and a box of Twinkies, about the only food that was left in the house. Within an hour, Jamie had finished that off, and was putting on clothes so that she could leave the house and buy some more food. However, when she couldn’t find any pants that fit her anymore, she decided to have a couple pizzas delivered.

Six o’clock, the doorbell rang. Jamie answered it wearing only a t-shirt and panties: no bra, no pants. The pizza guy stared at Jamie for about thirty or forty five seconds, before stammering out “twenty-one fifty.”

She left him an extra large tip, and by nine o’clock, was asleep on the sofa, two empty pizza boxes next to her, and crumbs all over.

Nine o’clock, Saturday morning, Jamie woke up, ravenously hungry. But there was no more food in the house, and she didn’t feel like going out. She was going to call for pizza again, but there weren’t any delivery places open until at least eleven. So she got dressed, which was a chore, because she didn’t have any bras that fit comfortably, but she wasn’t going out without a bra on. So she squeezed into a lacy black bra, threw on a black t-shirt, and the baggiest sweats she owned, which were getting a bit tight on her.

As she got into her brand new Volkswagen Jetta, (with a license plate holder that read “daddy’s spoiled little princess”) the driver’s side moved downward with her weight. First things first, she had to eat – and buy some clothes that fit. Through the McDonald’s drive through, three super-sized Big Mac meals, and onto the mall. By one o’clock, she was wearing all new clothes, brand new jeans, and a t-shirt that read “hottie,” and exposed her belly button. She bought a pair of jeans that fit, and some that were a few sizes to big; she expected to grow into them soon.

It was afternoon, and Jamie was hungry again, and her belly made sure to let her know. She went to an all-you-can-eat buffet, and by the time she left, the button on her jeans had been undone, and there was about two more inches of skin showing between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her jeans.

That evening, Jamie’s dad, Jack, came home to a clean house, except for the dinner that Jamie was in the middle of (which included a pizza, a meatball sub sandwich, a two-liter of Pepsi, and a large slice of pecan pie for dessert), which took up most of the kitchen table.

“Hi, Jamie,” her dad called as he came in through the front door.

“Hey Daddy!” Jamie cried happily, but didn’t move from her place at the table.

“Hey kiddo,” the only childish name Jamie hated being called, “How’s daddy’s girl? Were you good while I was away?”

“Of course,” Jamie replied, through the bites of pizza.

“Mind if I grab a slice?” her dad inquired.

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” Jamie protested. “There’s food in the fridge. I bought some groceries.”

“I can see that you have,” her father replied, as he opened the door. “Two gallons of whole milk, six liters of soda, a couple gallons of ice cream, a pecan pie,”

“There’s some Twinkies and potato chips and stuff in the pantry, too.”

“Jamie, I’m worried about you.”

“Why, Daddy?”
“Well, I’m glad that your comfortable with yourself, but you seem a bit too comfortable. You’re not getting any thinner. And you eat all the time, and fatty junk food at that. How much do you weigh? Three hundred?”

“Three fifty-fiveish.”

“I don’t want you to think you need to diet, or starve yourself, but, if you don’t slow down your eating, you’ll be six hundred pounds before you know it, and bedridden.”

“Daddy, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m just afraid at the rate you’re eating that you’ll be the fattest woman alive before you know it. And how long would your health keep up after that?”

“Daddy, don’t worry about me. I’m just a growing girl. I just happen to be growing from side to side instead of up and down. I’ll be fine. I can’t keep getting fatter forever, can I?”

“I don’t know.” He poured himself a glass of soda and went into the living room.

That evening, Jamie went to sleep with a box of Twinkies, munching away as she drifted out of consciousness.

She awoke the next morning, in a bit of a stupor.

“Daddy,” she called, “why can’t I get up?” She opened her eyes and was astounded. Her body had grown to at least six hundred pounds as she slept.

“Help me, Daddy; I’m so fat I can’t move!” she cried out - but there was no answer.

She tried to get up, but only succeeded in breaking her bed. Her whole fat body shook violently; the crash was deafening.

“I’m so hungry,” she said. “I’m so hungry. I have to eat; I have to get fatter; I have to eat!”​

And then she really woke up. It was about two in the morning. She sat up in bed, with a groan. She was sitting in her familiar three hundred fifty-fiveish pound body. But she couldn’t get the image out of her head. She was so fat. She was so fat and… beautiful. What was she thinking? She wanted to be so fat.

“What’s wrong with me?” she thought. But she knew it. She had to have it. She had to be fat. She wanted, more than anything that she had ever wanted, to be the fattest woman – not just alive – ever.

She ate the rest of the pie as she searched on the Internet for information about fat people. She found that she’d have to weigh at least eleven or twelve hundred pounds before she’d be in the running for the fattest woman ever. That goal seemed so huge and far away. So she set her sights on the short term. She walked into the bathroom and stood on the scale.

“So,” she thought out loud. “If I gain three pounds a week, then by the time I’m twenty, I’ll easily be over eight hundred pounds. I wonder how much I can gain in one week.” She giggled, and thought to herself

“Most girls worry about the ‘Freshman Fifteen,’ I’ll be trying to hit the freshman one fifty.”

She grabbed a couple Twinkies and scarfed them down before she went to bed. She wondered: three pounds a week, how much weight could she gain in one week if she really tried? Three pounds didn’t seem like a whole lot, on the other hand, how much food did she have to eat to gain three pounds? She really didn’t know, but figured that she’d weigh herself next Saturday night, and see just how much she could gain in a week.

Part II:

Jamie spent the next week eating as much as she could, all the time. She made an easy work of the first five pounds in one week, and was very encouraged. She figured she could really hit her year-end goal of four hundred pounds ahead of schedule. Five pounds a week would figure to four hundred thirty pounds before she came home for Christmas. But she knew that she could be eating more; she knew she could be gaining more weight quicker.

She spent every day, all day, eating. It was consuming her. And it paid off. Pizza, soda, Twinkies, ice cream, potato chips, junk food, every calorie laden item she could shove down her mouth, all added up to twelve pounds in one week. Jamie was ecstatic. She weighed in at three hundred and seventy two pounds after only the first two weeks. A week later, she headed off to college, at three hundred and eighty pounds.

College presented some difficulties. Sure, she could eat while she studied, but she wasn’t really used to having to walk so much between classes and back and forth from her dorm. Plus, her dorm was on the third level, and the elevator was rarely working. In the first two weeks of school, Jamie lost five pounds.

Jamie shared a dorm with a blond, skinny cheerleader type named Mary. Mary was only going to college because her parents made her. She hardly ever went to classes; she was always out getting drunk with boys. And she almost never was in the dorm when Jamie was, because then her friends would see Jamie sitting around in her usual bra-and-sweatpants dorm attire, chowing down on fatty foods.

Mary was disgusted by Jamie. On the other hand, Jamie couldn’t figure out how anyone could be as shallow as Mary. The two of them rarely talked, except when Mary was letting Jamie know that she was having friends over, so Jamie had better stay out of the dorm.

So Jamie continued going to class, working for good grades, and trying her hardest to get fatter. But by the time December break started, and she went home for Christmas, Jamie had only managed to gain ten pounds, putting her at three hundred eighty-five pounds.

The break from school brought on laziness and pound upon pound. Jamie barely moved from her spot on the sofa all day. In the morning, she’d bring boxes of food and a few two liter bottles of soda, and stay there eating until it was all gone, at about four or five o’clock. Then she’d throw all the empty containers and wrappers away, and wait for her dad to get home at five thirty. They’d eat dinner together. Afterwards, Jamie would sit down with a gallon of ice cream and about three bags of microwave pop corn, and watch movies and eat herself to sleep.

By Christmas dinner, she had already packed on over ten pounds. Christmas dinner brought a day of food. Jamie was wearing a pair of jeans that were stretched tight (funny, she had only bought them a week before she came home), and a skin tight t-shirt that rode up, exposing about three inches of sexy belly fat. Jamie’s aunt Nancy and cousin Melissa came over for dinner. Melissa tipped the scales at just over three fifty; this was the first time that Jamie had been heavier than Melissa. The two of them, for fun, had a little eating contest. From three in the afternoon until eight at night, neither of them got up from the table. They both consumed half of a ham each, plus salad (or a bowl of ranch dressing with a few leaves of lettuce in it), an apple pie, candied yams, two bottles of cider, and more, including the bottle of wine, which they split. At eight o’clock, Melissa was stuffed. But Jamie got her second wind, and managed to pack in an entire pecan pie.

After Jamie succeeded in winning the contest the family then proceeded into the living room to exchange gifts. Jamie got a few books, a gift certificate to Lane Bryant, a few gift certificates to restaurants around town, and an optical mouse for her computer – no more dirty track balls.

After Nancy and Melissa had left, Jamie went to her room, carrying her presents. As she entered her room, she dropped the box with her mouse in it. Bending over to pick it up, her jeans split all the way down her butt. Jamie undressed herself, which was such a workout that she collapsed on her bed asleep.

When she woke up the next day, about noon, she stood on the bathroom scale. Four hundred and three pounds, it read. Jamie was so excited that she jumped up and down in only her bra and panties. She only jumped once, though. She fell down and cracked the bathroom tile. She burst out laughing at herself; every inch of fat on her body jiggled sexily.

The next semester at school, Jamie had learned her lesson. She signed up for all but one internet course. This meant that she only had to walk to class twice a week. Plus, the elevator was fixed. Jamie could really focus on getting fatter now.

Mary came the day after Jamie, two days before classes started up again. She looked like she had gained about ten pounds in the past month. Not much, but it showed because her bones weren’t poking out so much. When she saw Jamie, who had in the month that followed Christmas gained another fifteen pounds, she was aghast.

“How could you let yourself be so FAT?” she shouted. “If I were as fat as you, I’d probably kill myself!”

“Mary, let me ask you something. What’s your favorite food?” Jamie inquired.

“Pizza. You know that,” came the reply.

“Now what would happen if you ate all the pizza you wanted?”

“Jamie, I’d get as fat as you.”

“So what’s stopping you?” Jamie asked.

“From getting as fat as you?”

“From eating all the pizza you want. Why should you care what you weigh? You can be happy with yourself. I’m happy with myself, and I eat whatever I want, whenever I want. You’re miserable, and you starve yourself. Wouldn’t you rather be happy?”

“You’re sick. I could never let myself get so fat,” Mary answered. But somewhere inside, she knew that she really did want to eat like Jamie. And so what if she got as fat as Jamie? Even if she ate all she wanted, she’d probably never get that fat. She left the dorm, but came back about ten minutes later.

“Hey fatty,” she said.

“Yes?” Jamie replied.

“I’ll bet you fifty bucks that I can eat one more whole pizza than you can.”

“Are you kidding? Look at me. I weigh four hundred twenty-five pounds. You weigh one hundred five pounds. My belly sags halfway to my knees. I can’t even tie my shoes anymore while wearing them. I’m fat. You’re skinny. You have nowhere near the amount of space to eat as much pizza as me,” Jamie laughed.

“I said, I’ll bet you fifty bucks I can eat one more whole pizza than you can,” Mary insisted.

“Okay, if you insist.”

An hour later, Jamie sat with eight pizza boxes in front of her, Mary with nine. The two started eating. For hours they ate. Jamie was amazed. Where was Mary packing all that food? But Mary kept up with Jamie. Once, she even pulled ahead. When they were both on pizza number eight, about three hours after they started, Jamie said “I can keep going, but I’m out of pizza. I’m going to order four more.”

“Make that five more, I’ll eat two more than you,” came Mary’s reply.

Two hours later, Mary stopped, halfway through her tenth pizza. Jamie finished her eleventh, plus finished off the rest of Jamie’s tenth.

“You lose,” Jamie said to Mary. You’ll never be able to out eat this fat girl.

“Oh, just wait. We’ll have a rematch pretty soon,” Mary insisted.

The two of them went to bed. Jamie didn’t wake up until about one in the afternoon the next day, but Mary woke up at nine in the morning, her stomach was distended, and she was feeling bloated.

“What in the world got into me?” she wondered.

Part III

Over the next two months, Jamie was gaining a steady three or four pounds a week. Mary gained fifteen pounds in a week, but after that wasn’t gaining very much any more. Jamie and Mary got to know each other better, and became close. Jamie was fat all over, but she prided herself in her belly, which, at four hundred and seventy pounds sagged halfway to her knees.

Mary was still extremely thin compared to Jamie, about one thirty or forty, but her stomach was soft, her navel deepened. Her boobs had grown quite a bit, as well. But Mary’s hips had widened quite a bit. Her thighs began to rub when she walked, which put more of a sway in her hips. Guys were actually watching her more, so she didn’t mind. In fact, she was happy with her newfound chubbiness.

One day in April, Mary announced that it was time for a rematch. Another gorging contest would soon be under way. This time, it wouldn’t be pizza. They were going to go to McDonalds and see who could eat the most Big Mac meals. Super sized fries and drink, and all. The two of them had binged and gorged together the night before, and neither had eaten anything when they got to McDonalds at five o’clock, so they were both ravenously hungry.

Both of them got to work right away, polishing off five within an hour. In the middle of the sixth, Mary began to slow down. Jamie took a commanding lead, and unbuttoned her jeans as she began her seventh, allowing her belly to flow out and sag down between her legs. Soon people started watching. Some disgusted, some curious, two guys watched with quite a bit of interest. They made bets.

Jamie had the obvious advantage, having three hundred pounds on Mary, but Mary was holding her own, only about half a Big Mac behind. They had ordered five each to begin with, then another five, but by the time Jamie finished her tenth, her belly hanging out, she could barely get out of the booth that she had crammed herself into in the first place, so one of the two guys went and got her six more, apparently the one who had bet on her. Mary was a full meal behind Jamie now, and it looked like Jamie had the lead, so she began to slow down – a fatal mistake.

Mary, noticing Jamie’s slowing pace, was encouraged, and got her second wind, eating quicker than she had when she had started. Soon, the two of them were neck and neck again, the two guys bringing them more as they finished each one. In the middle of the thirteenth meal, Jamie let out a long loud belch, making room for her to pull ahead again. But as she finished her fifteenth meal, she hit the wall. She struggled to finish her fries, and worked laboriously at the sixteenth burger. Mary, on the other hand, had maintained pace and finished her sixteenth while Jamie was still working on the fries. Jamie had managed to eat her seventeenth burger, while Mary had finished her seventeenth meal. Mary had won this time.

The fifteen or sixteen people that had crowded and been watching applauded and laughed. Jamie and Mary just sat there, breathing laboriously. It was over. The skinny little thing had out eaten the four hundred pound girl. After resting for about fifteen minutes, to the amazement of the people still watching, Mary brought four ice creams to the table, and they each ate two.

After resting for a bit longer, Mary got up.

“Help me up,” Jamie asked. Her belly was squeezed in so tight, it was overflowing both over and under the table, and had gotten her wedged in tight.

“Can’t you suck it in?” Mary asked.

Jamie laughed, and grabbed a handful of fat, and shook her belly. “Suck it in where? This gut’s freaking big and I can’t do anything about it.

It took at least ten minutes of pulling and pushing to get Jamie freed. When she stood up, her whole body shook, and her belly slapped against her thighs, almost pulling her down with it.

The two of them went back to the dorm and slept until the next afternoon. At the dinner table, they discussed Jamie’s fatness, a common subject between the two of them, until Jamie asked Mary, “What about you? You’re getting kind of chubby yourself.”

“Most people would say I’m fat, Jamie,” Mary replied.

“You’re not fat in my eyes till you’re fatter than me,” Jamie laughed. “But seriously, you’ve been gaining a lot of weight. What are you going to do? Are you planning on losing the weight you’ve gained? What are you, two hundred?”

“About that, I guess. I dunno. I haven’t gained anything for about two weeks. I think my body’s happy where it is. I guess I’m happy where I am. People don’t expect me to be thin, so I can eat what I like, but I’m not so huge that I couldn’t lose the weight, I guess. I don’t know. What about you? I mean, you’re huge. And you really seem to like it. What’s your plan?”

“Well, I once dreamed of breaking the record for the fattest woman ever. Then I sort of reconsidered. But it seems like it’s a goal I can hit. I’ve been thinking about dropping out of school, staying home, and just eating all the time. I mean, I love eating. I really love it. I love over eating. When I’ve eaten so much that my stomach is stretched and hurting, it feels good. When I stand on the scale and see that I’ve gained ten pounds, it feels good. It’s the only thing that makes me really happy. I love being fat, and I want to get fatter.”

“How will you pay for food without a job?” Mary wondered.

“My dad’s pretty well-off. He trades stocks and stuff. He got in on some good deals at the ground level and made quite a bit of money. Plus he’s got a computer consultant company that’s going pretty well. He’s got enough to pay for me to eat pretty much all I want.”

“Man, that’s nice. I mean that he doesn’t care that you’re so fat. My parents are going to hit the roof when they see that I’ve gained over eighty pounds since school started.”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you drop out of school? I’ll call my dad, see if he’ll hire you as a cook, or maid, or whatever. You’d get free room and board, a nice salary, and we could get fatter together. You can help me hit my goal weight!”

Part IV

Mary stood on the scale in Jamie’s bathroom. It was August, and she’d been working for Jamie’s dad cleaning house and keeping Jamie fed for the past two months. She weighed in at two hundred and fifteen pounds. Jamie’s turn. She stood on the scale, and checked the digital read out. It blinked eights, and then she heard a crack, coming from the scale.

“Oops,” she laughed.

That evening, Mary brought Jamie dinner – or, as it was, supper, dinner, desert, after dinner snack, and a late night snack that kept Jamie eating from about five o’clock until she went to sleep between ten and eleven.

“Jamie,” Mary began, “remember when I was out, last weekend, visiting my sister?”

“Yeah,” Jamie replied.

“Well, she’s anorexic. Her doctor gave her these pills, didn’t tell her what they were for, but prescribed them. They’re apparently for slowing down your metabolism, to help you gain weight. So I made this weight-gain shake, the kind that athletes drink, it’s got tons of calories. And here are two of the pills. Jamie took the pills, and drank the shake, then began her dinner.

A few weeks after starting on the pills and weight-gain shakes, Jamie noticed that her belly was sagging all the way to her knees when she stood. She was so excited that she had Mary bake her a six-layer cake, and ate it all, plus two weight-gain shakes, and her regular dinner. There was still no scale, so she didn’t have any idea how much she weighed.

September came. It was Jamie’s nineteenth birthday. She had a huge cake, and then Mary gave her a present. Jamie unwrapped it, excitedly. It was a brand new scale, which went up to fifteen hundred pounds, plus had a wider area to stand on, because Jamie’s fat thighs pushed her feet apart. Jamie was so excited, she laughed giddily, her whole fat body shaking up and down violently.

Laboriously, and with Mary’s help, Jamie made her way into the bathroom. Mary set up the scale, and Jamie slowly stepped onto it. The digital readout flashed eights, and then a number: six hundred and eighty. A hundred and fifty pound gain since May. Jamie was so excited she couldn’t speak. Six hundred and eighty pounds. To celebrate, Jamie ate. Although, Jamie didn’t really need a celebration to eat. She wondered how quickly she could gain twenty more pounds, and push her over seven hundred. It had only been a year ago that she was trying for four hundred pounds; seven hundred seemed so far away. Now, she could likely reach seven hundred pounds before the end of the month.

Jamie ate more in the next week than she had ever eaten. Plus, she was drinking more weight gain shakes and still taking the pills to lower her metabolic rate. She was packing on pounds like never before. She passed seven hundred, barely noticing. She was too happy eating. All day she ate. It was November and Thanksgiving dinner before she knew it. The weigh in after Thanksgiving: seven hundred and sixty five pounds.

The next day, when Jamie awoke, she tried to sit up. Something was holding her down. Then she realized: it was she. She called for Mary. “Help me out here, Mary. I can’t sit up. My belly’s too big, and my boobs are weighing me down.”

Mary laughed. Her belly wasn’t just big; it was enormous. It shot up into the air a few feet, and spread out between her fat, dimpled thighs past her knees. And her boobs were nearly watermelon-sized. Mary helped Jamie to sit up.

“Think you can stand?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I feel so heavy; I feel so fat,” she replied.

“Jamie, you are fat. You’re huge. Of course you feel fat. Here, I’ll help you to stand up.”

But as soon as Jamie got upright, her belly pulled her down, and she fell down forward, onto her belly, her whole body jiggling and shaking.

“You’re butt’s not big enough. Let me help you up.” And Mary helped Jamie stand up.

“Whew, I’m so tired. What a workout,” Jamie panted. “I’ve got to lay down. I don’t think I’ll be standing again for a while.”

And without any physical activity at all, Jamie’s weight skyrocketed. She never really knew how much she weighed, though. She could only tell by how far her belly went in front of her. She just kept getting bigger and bigger.

 

[aka]

 

[luvfanny]