user 20862
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BHM, BBW, Eating Romance,~XWG - an author and a fan script their own life story
[Author's notes: This was a story I wrote in 2005. I may have tired a bit towards the end, but for those who like to get off on reading rising numbers
, this will suffice more than reading the times in "TV Guide".
There is a little bit of non-explicit gay stuff in the last third, but you should always write about what you know :wubu:. if you don't like it, do not bother me, or anyone else, with your views, and remember that everyone isn't born, or has to live, the same way as you. If you're not bothered, please carry on as before.]
YEAR ONE
My name is Noah and, like all good people, I have a secret. It is something that doesn’t fit human convention – which is always good – I even consider it to be WRONG, making it even better.
I want to be big. That is the body image I want for myself, and I hope my reasons are understandable.
I have an image of myself at the point where I’ve achieved all I want for myself; where I am the person I want to be, truly content. I am surrounded by friends, and by myself – I have become a being so large, I have my own gravitational field.
I would weigh around five hundred pounds, massive for my six-foot height. My jowly, chinful face, accenting my eyes, would give way to wide shoulders and huge arms – I use weights, and would make sure I had the muscles to carry such a substantial payload, even if you can’t see them under that load. My torso would start with a manly set of breasts, hiding developed pectorals, leading to a cascade of flesh. My belly would hang half way down my oil-drum thighs, supported by puffy knees and meaty calves. Above, love handles to be grabbed with both hands, and an ass to fill a two-seater sofa.
Any questions?
For someone who weighed a skinny 150 lbs. at the start of this year, I have a way to go before achieving my target. But, I soon realised I wasn’t interested in gaining muscle mass – I wanted to be fat too. I wanted to be big, no matter what. So, to have any chance of getting anywhere, I had to start quickly. My New Year’s resolution was set.
To do something like this requires a massive level of commitment. Thankfully, as a writer, working from home, with my own workout room filled with weights, there is nothing to stop me from being fully committed to both endeavours. I also don’t have to worry about money, thankfully – as the creator of a reasonably successful series of crime novels, I am comfortably living off the royalties from the first few novels – advances on the next few are very welcome bonuses. As long as I can write, I’m made up for life.
Having started my new routine on New Year’s Day, I reasoned I need to slowly ease myself into this – a little more food, a little more exercise. Once I am used to that level, I can up those limits. I’m reminding myself not to expect huge gains straight away – acquiring the mass I want will take some time...
...as proved in the first month – I gained just two pounds, but it was all muscle. It is a slow and steady start, but the plan is working!
February was similar, but I gained three pounds this month. I have noticed another factor to bear in mind – because I was gaining muscle, I was losing fat. I thought I was getting thinner, but my muscles were marginally bigger – the muscle gain was everywhere, so I was going about this the right way.
The focus on my goal has benefited my writing – I trained myself to make quicker, and more lateral decisions. The script for my latest novel, delivered in March – before time – had more twists and turns in the plot than in my previous efforts, making for greater acclaim, and better sales (on its September release) than earlier in the series. I also gained four more pounds in March – everything is up to speed like I never imagined.
October signalled the start of work on the next novel. By now, nine months of continuous effort produced brilliant results. I continued the trend of gaining one more pound per month than previous, giving me a total weight of 204 lbs. A 46-inch chest, 36-inch waist, massive shoulders, arms and legs – I bought myself a Superman outfit from a fancy dress shop, and revelled in how good it looked on me. I began seriously considering whether to abandon the thought of gaining fat over my muscles, obscuring the work I had achieved so far. I then remembered I was after stature – I definitely had that, but many others had this body too. With fat as well – and as long as I continued gaining muscle – I could become something out of the ordinary. That was what I was after – that was my target for next year.
Continuing my “plus one” gaining pattern, I entered the new year weighing 240 lbs. – Christmas indulgence always helps. I was unrecognisable from this time last year. But, I knew I was on the road to something much, much bigger...
YEAR TWO
The first few months of this year were cause for celebration regarding my regime, breaking a number of barriers – the fifty-inch chest, the twenty-inch arms, the thirty-inch thighs – and the forty-inch waist. I resolved to gain at a steady rate of ten pounds per month this year, reaching 270 lbs. by April. Sure enough, I had reached the point where I started to gain fat, but my muscles were still growing at a slower rate.
My next book was finished, and the usual preliminaries before publication took place – the editing of the manuscript (although, as my writing skills are continuing to improve, less of my work requires editing – I’m weeding out problems at an earlier stage), and the taking of my publicity photo for the dust jacket.
I was waiting for the first person to comment how I am looking different with each photo, and it finally happened during a book signing in June. A fan, named Lisa, coyly referred to my changing size as she asked for my autograph, and that I was continuing to change – my steady gain continued to a new weight of 292 lbs. Seeing as I was interesting someone not just by my work, I took the opportunity to meet her in a restaurant later that evening.
Lisa wanted to know how I write, as she perceived the shift into more complex plots I have attempted, and I explained my more focused attitude – knowing it would refer to my body-building. Lisa immediately picked me up on that – confirming my suspicion that it contributed to her wanting to meet me – and said she loved what I am doing to myself. In fact, she wanted to volunteer her services to help me continue – Lisa definitely wanted a certain something in her men, and it attracted her to me – and me to her.
We celebrated my 26th birthday – and my 300 lbs. anniversary – on 1st July at, yes, a restaurant. I had upped the weight training again, and my belly was only 45 inches around, but was a sign of the times. Lisa encouraged on the food front, and when I worked out at home. By August, I had broken my “ten pounds per month” rule – by twice that amount.
The rule was broken again in August, except this time I gained twenty-five pounds. Lisa was a good and bad influence – I was gaining, but too much too fast for my liking. However, her being around me was causing herself to change, gaining twenty pounds herself over the last two months. She now weighed 155 lbs., filling out her five-foot four-inch frame. Whether is was just being around me, or if she wanted a bit of weight for herself, she was refusing to let on – I think it was the latter.
In November, Lisa gave me news I wasn’t expecting at all – she was leaving Britain, for the United States. I was helping her with her own writing skills, while she helped me with my training. Lisa had got a job as a script reader with a Hollywood film company – it wasn’t necessarily a job that required you to move country, but Lisa had relations there too. I was disappointed, as the relationship we acknowledged we now had was progressing to a different stage, but I knew Lisa had to take this job – how could you turn it down? The only job I would do, apart from being paid for writing, is be paid for reading.
We had until 29th December to continue what we were doing best – I wrote, now faster and with more inspired plot twists, with Lisa’s encouragement. She was trying to lose a bit of weight, but would eventually reach 175 lbs. just before she left for the US – she developed a belly that wouldn’t be out of place in any state, to be frank.
I, on the other hand, could not believe my own progress – another novel completed for the new year, even faster than the previous manuscript, but also a hell of a lot more weight. By November, I weighed in at 415 lbs. – finally, my weight exceeded my chest, my belly succumbing to gravity. My arms, thighs and pectorals were beginning to be laden with a layer of fat, certainly not unwelcome. However, I thought I was, at least, a whole year ahead of schedule. I guess being with Lisa was too much fun – when we began exploring each other more carnally, we naturally thought more weight was a godsend, contributing to our weight gains. I was in heaven.
November and December threw caution to the wind, as I enjoyed the last of Lisa’s company. I saw her off at the airport weighing 450 lbs. – Lisa contributed to a 210 lbs. gain this last year. My stomach rested on my thighs, and my face began to show increasingly puffed cheeks. In my last couple of months with Lisa, my exercise routine did take a slide, with more concentration on food – and sex. Next year would require me to slow my weight gain – I was almost at my target weight after only two years of growth!
YEAR THREE
On New Year’s Day, I called my editor at the publisher. She also encourages me with my body-building plan, because she saw how happy I was – and saw the rise in the quality of my writing. We exchanged our new year’s greetings, and I told her my plan.
I was ending my crime fiction series, aching to try something else. I had now written six books in the series, and had ideas already in place for another three, that would form a trilogy to end the series. They would all be published on the same day, this Christmas. My editor told me to e-mail the synopsis to her as soon as possible – she got it that afternoon. A few days later, I was amazed to find I had been given the go-ahead, plus a first-look deal on further projects. There was some concern over whether I could deliver the manuscripts on time – my previous novels have been annual publications, at 100,000 words each. This, obviously, requires some work.
I was ready, needing something more to focus on, to stop myself from getting fatter too quickly. I was hitting new peaks with my writing, so it was a great opportunity to test where I am right now, and where I can go next – what will I be writing next?
To meet a September submission target, I need to average 1,500 words per day. I wrote every morning, with exercise in the afternoon. Soon enough, I introduced an extra evening plotting session. This increased my work effort the following morning by one third, on average.
By the end of February, the first manuscript was ready – a month ahead of my original target. I also lost ten pounds in weight. I could feel my muscles beginning to firm up, although there was nothing to show that on the surface yet. But that’s still progress...
The pattern was repeated with the second novel. Now two months ahead, with one book left – and, amazingly no lost of quality despite my current speed – I spent a week making plans for my last crime book. I decided that, if I wanted to do another crime related story, it now had to be part of something else.
For three months, I tapped merrily away at my keyboard. I called my editor to tell her this final book may be longer than the previous two – she told me to go right ahead. The final manuscript extended to 160,000 words, deliberately ending with the death of the central character, so I didn’t have to continue the series. The longer length was partly due to wrapping up all the loose ends I could identify – I am proud of the work, but growing as a writer means you eventually need to move on.
I had lost more weight – I was now 410 lbs., and my muscles were more toned. They were also massive – I had a 55-inch chest, 50-inch waist, and 30-inch arms – all supported by 35-inch thighs. However, I feel healthier than I have ever been. The indulgences I had on my 27th birthday made no impact at all.
I have received some messages from Lisa, telling me how she has done in her new job. She hopes to get a book deal of her own soon, and hopes I can visit some time. August was a good time – the height of summer in California.
When I met Lisa, she clearly had not lost the habits she picked up with me last year. In fact, she embraced them. She now weighed 260 lbs. with a big belly, breasts and ass. Lisa said she realised what she wanted in others was what she really wanted for herself, and thanked me for helping her realise that.
From September, the rest of this year was spent writing ideas for new stories. They came thick and fast – I surprised myself. I am on the creative roll of my life, giving me cause for reflection – my whole body-building regime has had many additional benefits. I have become very productive, very determined, and a very reflective person – qualities I never thought I could improve upon. And yet, these last three years have seen the beginning of something very interesting in me. But, it also shows no sign of stopping – and I don’t want it to stop.
At Christmas, I gathered my friends around the turkey to make an announcement – I was taking a year off. Having written three novels in a year, I felt I could take the opportunity to relax, travel, and prepare for the writing I would do on my return. I was also interested in what this would mean for my weight – I have gained since September, and now weighed 450 lbs. – but I’m much better condition than when I was last 450 lbs. Not bad, really.
YEAR FOUR
I have every intention of not writing anything this year – well, nothing to fit a target or a release date. I have a year to plan my next direction, and to relax. These last three years have been so much better than I could imagine, but they have been strenuous. I need to get all my energy back.
I didn’t realise, however, the effort needed to relax. My writing and body-building routine has become so regimented, the physical act of keeping myself in bed past 7.00am is ridiculous – it took a month to get past that barrier.
I also had to adapt my body-building routine just to make it, I realised, more enjoyable – I’ve done three years of hard building of muscle (and three years of hard eating of fat), and all I need to do now is enough exercise to keep my current physical condition. I’m at where I want to be for now – I have more than enough muscle, and I can get fatter if I want, but so long as I keep my exemplary health level, I will be made for life. Yeah – knowing you’re in a space where you are content – the space I imagined I would be with my current weight – I am actually there.
So, January and February consisted of me making various notes in a big notebook – I’ve also made big use of highlighter pens, just to track all the ideas I’m having I’ve found this attempt to relax is unleashing even more (supposedly) untapped creativity – this is writing because you can, not simply to earn a living. I’m currently writing about anything that comes to mind, bouncing ideas off any surface – a good way to get your mind going is to watch, read or listen to any story, and think “how would I do it?” Certainly, you find out quickly how you tackle individual points in a story, but you begin to unlock your own storytelling formula for any genre – I wrote crime fiction because I studied it inside out. Now I have clues on expanding my work to other areas – I could even write a book on how to tell a story, but if I’ve never found them useful myself, would I expect anyone to read mine?
During this time, I’ve noticed my appetite has increased. I’m writing for pleasure, but I’m now eating for pleasure too – something I’ve never actually done before, as I’ve only been interested in the end point of my weight gain, and not in the journey itself. Hmm... what am I working towards with my writing? That is more for the journey itself, but where am I planning on being in, say, five years from now?
On 1st March, I weighed myself, and got a bit of a shock – I’ve reached my target weight. Five hundred pounds – and two more. I was stunned – not by the weight, as the way I’ve been eating means I would have reached it soon enough – but that I’ve actually reached my target.
I looked at myself in the mirror. What am I seeing? I have a chubby face, very wide shoulders, big, muscular and flabby arms, large pectoral-enhanced breasts, and a massive belly that now rests on my thighs. My legs are still suggesting much muscle, and my ass is definitely that of someone who does a lot of sitting.
I am surprised by my reaction – now that I weigh a quarter of a ton, which is no mean feat, I realise it is not enough. My perspective on myself has been changing these last couple of months, and I have found that, while content in some respects, I am capable of so much more. Perhaps I am in need of some self-discovery this year – what sort of satisfaction do I need before I can finally say “I am content”? I have to work this one out – perhaps something is there already in me that needs to come out? I’m not sure yet...
I spent all of March delving deep into myself, having realised I was at a crossroads. I had achieved everything I wanted in life – I was a successful writer, comfortably well off from my efforts, and I achieved the body I wanted for myself. I think it was the actual achievement of these – without working out, on the way, where to go next – which has put me in this predicament. Don’t put aside a whole year to work out yourself, or you will stand still. This is what I’ve realised – I am one of those people who can never be satisfied. I need to keep in motion – no goals, just keep going.
This realisation made me feel so much better. My writing could take quantum leaps from now on, but there is still something that could, in the future, be a cause for concern – I’ve realised my current weight isn’t enough. I am big, and want to get bigger. However, I will probably only find out what I deem “too big when I actually get there. That sounds so entirely wrong – yet so right. I have always wanted a life without limits, and I have broken through the last barriers to that reality. If only I had realised all this when I started building my body, because it would have saved all this existential trouble. But now, I need to get myself in motion, before this year-long break becomes one to wallow in my own self-pity.
April was an all-out success after last month, because – after realising that releasing three books at once, at Christmas, in a crowded market, would actually be counterproductive – my crime trilogy was finally released. However, the postponement of the release date allowed for word of mouth to spread, to everyone’s advantage. This month has also given me the chance to regain the ten pounds I lost last month worrying about myself, through different parties to celebrate the success of the books, and in hospitality suites on the way to, or from, different interviews.
Something I had noticed these last few years, during my body-building regime, has now fully blossomed – everyone is really happy to see me. My friends have even taken to giving me a pat on my belly, supposedly for good luck. I haven’t become a “jolly fat man”, because I don’t hide my emotions well enough for that, but it’s as if what I’m doing – living my dreams – is bringing out those feelings in others. I’m doing what others wouldn’t always have the courage to do themselves – it makes me feel good, which makes them feel good, which encourages me to carry on “as normal”. How do I know this is right? My friends are now encouraging me to gain more weight, and offer to help in any way possible. This is more like my original vision, back at the start of it all. This is brilliant – I gained back those ten pounds by April, so how much can I gain by the end of the year?
By July, I could celebrate my 28th birthday with the discovery of what I will be writing next – science fiction. While it allows for flights of fancy, science fiction can comment on contemporary issues while being set – safely – in the future. There are too many reasons to go for this genre, alone with being a ripe area for genre mixing – if I still have a crime story, I can still write it in a science fiction setting.
I have also gained fifty pounds in these last few months. I discovered what I really enjoy about my body – my muscles are still visible under all this fat, giving me the definition I wouldn’t have had if it was all fat. I must continue to have this sort of body if I want to continue getting bigger – the fact I can still get around without any difficulty is surely due to having such big muscles – I can feel the power in them.
The acclaim from the trilogy continued to the end of the year, and I won a few awards for the work. People are now eagerly awaiting my science fiction stories, which I will begin next year. This brought a crucial, and ultimately brilliant year to a close, and I await next year. Plus, will my now six hundred pound body grow any further? I know it will, but by how much?
YEAR FIVE
I have been keeping in contact with Lisa since she moved to the United States. In February, I went to visit her for the first time in over a year – taking a twelve-hour flight to Los Angeles is an ordeal for anyone, but doing so and have to pay for two seats on the plane in order to have enough room for myself – I’ll only do that every so often.
When I reached Lisa’s apartment, I was greeted by a surprise – Lisa had kept her word regarding how much she loved gaining weight, after her relationship back home with me. She now weighed 380 lbs., and had expanded in all directions from when I last saw her. Lisa’s belly now rested on her thighs, her ass had acquired an American-style shelf, and her thighs, breasts and arms were massive – and she loved all of it, and so she should.
Lisa was also surprised by me – I had already gained twenty more pounds this year – my 620 lbs. body was a true sight to behold, but I could still get easily get around, despite there being ever more of me to move.
We embraced, and immediately entered the second stage of the relationship we always knew we put on hold. We broke Lisa’s bed together with our half-ton weight. We were overjoyed.
I was visiting the United States for a month, and I intended on taking advantage of every morsel American restaurants had to offer – and the size of portions were another matter. It was an opportunity for Lisa and I to feed each other. I told Lisa I was gaining fat without any limit, and she intended on taking full advantage of that – I let her.
In that month, I gained a massive fifty pounds – all of which seemingly around my middle, which I imagined was going to be the case as I was mainly horizontal for the whole time. The United States leads the world in sitting down, even while moving place to place in their cars, and anyone who entered their borders would have to do the same.
Lisa gained only twenty pounds, but she was now a total of four hundred pounds – and still loving the prospects of gaining more. She intended on gaining more with me for a long time yet – on my last day, Lisa revealed that she was moving back to Britain. I was completely astounded, and ecstatic. However, it would not be for another three months. That didn’t matter – we could wait, and anticipate. We left each other at the airport knowing it wouldn’t be too long before that heavenly month could be repeated. I also knew I had been upgraded to first class on the plane back to Britain – it was easier for the airline than giving me two seats together.
I had another book to complete, and I knew that would be what would fill the next three months. However, my desk was also lined with sugary treats – I was going to see how much weight I would gain by the next time I would see Lisa. I want to see her response, as I liked her gasp when she saw me at 620 lbs.
And so, one hundred thousand words and countless calories later, I was ready to meet Lisa. However, I told her to meet me at home – I had a plan. She rang the doorbell, and I told her the door was unlocked. She walked in, and she had a surprise – I was on my new, big leather sofa, in as seductive a pose as I could manage, with a rose between my teeth – naked. A sight only for connoisseurs, you would imagine – certainly so, as I weighed a magnificent seven hundred pounds. My belly now filled my lap, pushing my huge legs aside on a descent to the floor. My ass now only filled half the sofa, as I bought one for, intentionally at least, four people.
An astonished Lisa joined me, filling up the rest of the sofa. She did the same as me, now weighing 450 lbs., her whole body succumbing to gravity further. We made love on the floor, as we now knew nothing was strong enough to hold us, unless we had something made. That was wickedly wrong, but felt so right.
We recreated that month again, and again, and again. We were in love with our minds, and in list with the insatiable appetite of our bodies. It only spurred me on to write more, and better, than before, just like the old days. I finally knew why Lisa returned to Britain – she missed being an inspiration to someone. Lisa did well enough in her script reader job, and it continued to a new role as a script editor for screenplays – and novels. Another pair of eyes to watch over my two great works – my writing, and my body – is all too welcome.
The end of the year had great surprises for both Lisa and I. We deliberately had not weighed ourselves since she arrived back in June. So, seven full months later, we chose to find out what we had done to ourselves. It was a shock – Lisa, whose belly now approached her knees, weighed a massive 530 lbs. – heavenly is the only word. I, on the other hand, was truly colossal at a total of 835 lbs., as I was the focus of our weight gain. My belly was also approaching my knees, and somehow my massive muscles, which I have continued to work on, are still evident amongst a sea of flesh. What I am slightly wary about now, however, is that my gain rate is slowing, as I am now so fat. I am definitely going to continue for some time, but I know that if there is a limit, it is nearer than before.
to be cont/...
[Author's notes: This was a story I wrote in 2005. I may have tired a bit towards the end, but for those who like to get off on reading rising numbers
, this will suffice more than reading the times in "TV Guide". There is a little bit of non-explicit gay stuff in the last third, but you should always write about what you know :wubu:. if you don't like it, do not bother me, or anyone else, with your views, and remember that everyone isn't born, or has to live, the same way as you. If you're not bothered, please carry on as before.]
Noah
by Lewis-spence
by Lewis-spence
YEAR ONE
My name is Noah and, like all good people, I have a secret. It is something that doesn’t fit human convention – which is always good – I even consider it to be WRONG, making it even better.
I want to be big. That is the body image I want for myself, and I hope my reasons are understandable.
I have an image of myself at the point where I’ve achieved all I want for myself; where I am the person I want to be, truly content. I am surrounded by friends, and by myself – I have become a being so large, I have my own gravitational field.
I would weigh around five hundred pounds, massive for my six-foot height. My jowly, chinful face, accenting my eyes, would give way to wide shoulders and huge arms – I use weights, and would make sure I had the muscles to carry such a substantial payload, even if you can’t see them under that load. My torso would start with a manly set of breasts, hiding developed pectorals, leading to a cascade of flesh. My belly would hang half way down my oil-drum thighs, supported by puffy knees and meaty calves. Above, love handles to be grabbed with both hands, and an ass to fill a two-seater sofa.
Any questions?
For someone who weighed a skinny 150 lbs. at the start of this year, I have a way to go before achieving my target. But, I soon realised I wasn’t interested in gaining muscle mass – I wanted to be fat too. I wanted to be big, no matter what. So, to have any chance of getting anywhere, I had to start quickly. My New Year’s resolution was set.
To do something like this requires a massive level of commitment. Thankfully, as a writer, working from home, with my own workout room filled with weights, there is nothing to stop me from being fully committed to both endeavours. I also don’t have to worry about money, thankfully – as the creator of a reasonably successful series of crime novels, I am comfortably living off the royalties from the first few novels – advances on the next few are very welcome bonuses. As long as I can write, I’m made up for life.
Having started my new routine on New Year’s Day, I reasoned I need to slowly ease myself into this – a little more food, a little more exercise. Once I am used to that level, I can up those limits. I’m reminding myself not to expect huge gains straight away – acquiring the mass I want will take some time...
...as proved in the first month – I gained just two pounds, but it was all muscle. It is a slow and steady start, but the plan is working!
February was similar, but I gained three pounds this month. I have noticed another factor to bear in mind – because I was gaining muscle, I was losing fat. I thought I was getting thinner, but my muscles were marginally bigger – the muscle gain was everywhere, so I was going about this the right way.
The focus on my goal has benefited my writing – I trained myself to make quicker, and more lateral decisions. The script for my latest novel, delivered in March – before time – had more twists and turns in the plot than in my previous efforts, making for greater acclaim, and better sales (on its September release) than earlier in the series. I also gained four more pounds in March – everything is up to speed like I never imagined.
October signalled the start of work on the next novel. By now, nine months of continuous effort produced brilliant results. I continued the trend of gaining one more pound per month than previous, giving me a total weight of 204 lbs. A 46-inch chest, 36-inch waist, massive shoulders, arms and legs – I bought myself a Superman outfit from a fancy dress shop, and revelled in how good it looked on me. I began seriously considering whether to abandon the thought of gaining fat over my muscles, obscuring the work I had achieved so far. I then remembered I was after stature – I definitely had that, but many others had this body too. With fat as well – and as long as I continued gaining muscle – I could become something out of the ordinary. That was what I was after – that was my target for next year.
Continuing my “plus one” gaining pattern, I entered the new year weighing 240 lbs. – Christmas indulgence always helps. I was unrecognisable from this time last year. But, I knew I was on the road to something much, much bigger...
YEAR TWO
The first few months of this year were cause for celebration regarding my regime, breaking a number of barriers – the fifty-inch chest, the twenty-inch arms, the thirty-inch thighs – and the forty-inch waist. I resolved to gain at a steady rate of ten pounds per month this year, reaching 270 lbs. by April. Sure enough, I had reached the point where I started to gain fat, but my muscles were still growing at a slower rate.
My next book was finished, and the usual preliminaries before publication took place – the editing of the manuscript (although, as my writing skills are continuing to improve, less of my work requires editing – I’m weeding out problems at an earlier stage), and the taking of my publicity photo for the dust jacket.
I was waiting for the first person to comment how I am looking different with each photo, and it finally happened during a book signing in June. A fan, named Lisa, coyly referred to my changing size as she asked for my autograph, and that I was continuing to change – my steady gain continued to a new weight of 292 lbs. Seeing as I was interesting someone not just by my work, I took the opportunity to meet her in a restaurant later that evening.
Lisa wanted to know how I write, as she perceived the shift into more complex plots I have attempted, and I explained my more focused attitude – knowing it would refer to my body-building. Lisa immediately picked me up on that – confirming my suspicion that it contributed to her wanting to meet me – and said she loved what I am doing to myself. In fact, she wanted to volunteer her services to help me continue – Lisa definitely wanted a certain something in her men, and it attracted her to me – and me to her.
We celebrated my 26th birthday – and my 300 lbs. anniversary – on 1st July at, yes, a restaurant. I had upped the weight training again, and my belly was only 45 inches around, but was a sign of the times. Lisa encouraged on the food front, and when I worked out at home. By August, I had broken my “ten pounds per month” rule – by twice that amount.
The rule was broken again in August, except this time I gained twenty-five pounds. Lisa was a good and bad influence – I was gaining, but too much too fast for my liking. However, her being around me was causing herself to change, gaining twenty pounds herself over the last two months. She now weighed 155 lbs., filling out her five-foot four-inch frame. Whether is was just being around me, or if she wanted a bit of weight for herself, she was refusing to let on – I think it was the latter.
In November, Lisa gave me news I wasn’t expecting at all – she was leaving Britain, for the United States. I was helping her with her own writing skills, while she helped me with my training. Lisa had got a job as a script reader with a Hollywood film company – it wasn’t necessarily a job that required you to move country, but Lisa had relations there too. I was disappointed, as the relationship we acknowledged we now had was progressing to a different stage, but I knew Lisa had to take this job – how could you turn it down? The only job I would do, apart from being paid for writing, is be paid for reading.
We had until 29th December to continue what we were doing best – I wrote, now faster and with more inspired plot twists, with Lisa’s encouragement. She was trying to lose a bit of weight, but would eventually reach 175 lbs. just before she left for the US – she developed a belly that wouldn’t be out of place in any state, to be frank.
I, on the other hand, could not believe my own progress – another novel completed for the new year, even faster than the previous manuscript, but also a hell of a lot more weight. By November, I weighed in at 415 lbs. – finally, my weight exceeded my chest, my belly succumbing to gravity. My arms, thighs and pectorals were beginning to be laden with a layer of fat, certainly not unwelcome. However, I thought I was, at least, a whole year ahead of schedule. I guess being with Lisa was too much fun – when we began exploring each other more carnally, we naturally thought more weight was a godsend, contributing to our weight gains. I was in heaven.
November and December threw caution to the wind, as I enjoyed the last of Lisa’s company. I saw her off at the airport weighing 450 lbs. – Lisa contributed to a 210 lbs. gain this last year. My stomach rested on my thighs, and my face began to show increasingly puffed cheeks. In my last couple of months with Lisa, my exercise routine did take a slide, with more concentration on food – and sex. Next year would require me to slow my weight gain – I was almost at my target weight after only two years of growth!
YEAR THREE
On New Year’s Day, I called my editor at the publisher. She also encourages me with my body-building plan, because she saw how happy I was – and saw the rise in the quality of my writing. We exchanged our new year’s greetings, and I told her my plan.
I was ending my crime fiction series, aching to try something else. I had now written six books in the series, and had ideas already in place for another three, that would form a trilogy to end the series. They would all be published on the same day, this Christmas. My editor told me to e-mail the synopsis to her as soon as possible – she got it that afternoon. A few days later, I was amazed to find I had been given the go-ahead, plus a first-look deal on further projects. There was some concern over whether I could deliver the manuscripts on time – my previous novels have been annual publications, at 100,000 words each. This, obviously, requires some work.
I was ready, needing something more to focus on, to stop myself from getting fatter too quickly. I was hitting new peaks with my writing, so it was a great opportunity to test where I am right now, and where I can go next – what will I be writing next?
To meet a September submission target, I need to average 1,500 words per day. I wrote every morning, with exercise in the afternoon. Soon enough, I introduced an extra evening plotting session. This increased my work effort the following morning by one third, on average.
By the end of February, the first manuscript was ready – a month ahead of my original target. I also lost ten pounds in weight. I could feel my muscles beginning to firm up, although there was nothing to show that on the surface yet. But that’s still progress...
The pattern was repeated with the second novel. Now two months ahead, with one book left – and, amazingly no lost of quality despite my current speed – I spent a week making plans for my last crime book. I decided that, if I wanted to do another crime related story, it now had to be part of something else.
For three months, I tapped merrily away at my keyboard. I called my editor to tell her this final book may be longer than the previous two – she told me to go right ahead. The final manuscript extended to 160,000 words, deliberately ending with the death of the central character, so I didn’t have to continue the series. The longer length was partly due to wrapping up all the loose ends I could identify – I am proud of the work, but growing as a writer means you eventually need to move on.
I had lost more weight – I was now 410 lbs., and my muscles were more toned. They were also massive – I had a 55-inch chest, 50-inch waist, and 30-inch arms – all supported by 35-inch thighs. However, I feel healthier than I have ever been. The indulgences I had on my 27th birthday made no impact at all.
I have received some messages from Lisa, telling me how she has done in her new job. She hopes to get a book deal of her own soon, and hopes I can visit some time. August was a good time – the height of summer in California.
When I met Lisa, she clearly had not lost the habits she picked up with me last year. In fact, she embraced them. She now weighed 260 lbs. with a big belly, breasts and ass. Lisa said she realised what she wanted in others was what she really wanted for herself, and thanked me for helping her realise that.
From September, the rest of this year was spent writing ideas for new stories. They came thick and fast – I surprised myself. I am on the creative roll of my life, giving me cause for reflection – my whole body-building regime has had many additional benefits. I have become very productive, very determined, and a very reflective person – qualities I never thought I could improve upon. And yet, these last three years have seen the beginning of something very interesting in me. But, it also shows no sign of stopping – and I don’t want it to stop.
At Christmas, I gathered my friends around the turkey to make an announcement – I was taking a year off. Having written three novels in a year, I felt I could take the opportunity to relax, travel, and prepare for the writing I would do on my return. I was also interested in what this would mean for my weight – I have gained since September, and now weighed 450 lbs. – but I’m much better condition than when I was last 450 lbs. Not bad, really.
YEAR FOUR
I have every intention of not writing anything this year – well, nothing to fit a target or a release date. I have a year to plan my next direction, and to relax. These last three years have been so much better than I could imagine, but they have been strenuous. I need to get all my energy back.
I didn’t realise, however, the effort needed to relax. My writing and body-building routine has become so regimented, the physical act of keeping myself in bed past 7.00am is ridiculous – it took a month to get past that barrier.
I also had to adapt my body-building routine just to make it, I realised, more enjoyable – I’ve done three years of hard building of muscle (and three years of hard eating of fat), and all I need to do now is enough exercise to keep my current physical condition. I’m at where I want to be for now – I have more than enough muscle, and I can get fatter if I want, but so long as I keep my exemplary health level, I will be made for life. Yeah – knowing you’re in a space where you are content – the space I imagined I would be with my current weight – I am actually there.
So, January and February consisted of me making various notes in a big notebook – I’ve also made big use of highlighter pens, just to track all the ideas I’m having I’ve found this attempt to relax is unleashing even more (supposedly) untapped creativity – this is writing because you can, not simply to earn a living. I’m currently writing about anything that comes to mind, bouncing ideas off any surface – a good way to get your mind going is to watch, read or listen to any story, and think “how would I do it?” Certainly, you find out quickly how you tackle individual points in a story, but you begin to unlock your own storytelling formula for any genre – I wrote crime fiction because I studied it inside out. Now I have clues on expanding my work to other areas – I could even write a book on how to tell a story, but if I’ve never found them useful myself, would I expect anyone to read mine?
During this time, I’ve noticed my appetite has increased. I’m writing for pleasure, but I’m now eating for pleasure too – something I’ve never actually done before, as I’ve only been interested in the end point of my weight gain, and not in the journey itself. Hmm... what am I working towards with my writing? That is more for the journey itself, but where am I planning on being in, say, five years from now?
On 1st March, I weighed myself, and got a bit of a shock – I’ve reached my target weight. Five hundred pounds – and two more. I was stunned – not by the weight, as the way I’ve been eating means I would have reached it soon enough – but that I’ve actually reached my target.
I looked at myself in the mirror. What am I seeing? I have a chubby face, very wide shoulders, big, muscular and flabby arms, large pectoral-enhanced breasts, and a massive belly that now rests on my thighs. My legs are still suggesting much muscle, and my ass is definitely that of someone who does a lot of sitting.
I am surprised by my reaction – now that I weigh a quarter of a ton, which is no mean feat, I realise it is not enough. My perspective on myself has been changing these last couple of months, and I have found that, while content in some respects, I am capable of so much more. Perhaps I am in need of some self-discovery this year – what sort of satisfaction do I need before I can finally say “I am content”? I have to work this one out – perhaps something is there already in me that needs to come out? I’m not sure yet...
I spent all of March delving deep into myself, having realised I was at a crossroads. I had achieved everything I wanted in life – I was a successful writer, comfortably well off from my efforts, and I achieved the body I wanted for myself. I think it was the actual achievement of these – without working out, on the way, where to go next – which has put me in this predicament. Don’t put aside a whole year to work out yourself, or you will stand still. This is what I’ve realised – I am one of those people who can never be satisfied. I need to keep in motion – no goals, just keep going.
This realisation made me feel so much better. My writing could take quantum leaps from now on, but there is still something that could, in the future, be a cause for concern – I’ve realised my current weight isn’t enough. I am big, and want to get bigger. However, I will probably only find out what I deem “too big when I actually get there. That sounds so entirely wrong – yet so right. I have always wanted a life without limits, and I have broken through the last barriers to that reality. If only I had realised all this when I started building my body, because it would have saved all this existential trouble. But now, I need to get myself in motion, before this year-long break becomes one to wallow in my own self-pity.
April was an all-out success after last month, because – after realising that releasing three books at once, at Christmas, in a crowded market, would actually be counterproductive – my crime trilogy was finally released. However, the postponement of the release date allowed for word of mouth to spread, to everyone’s advantage. This month has also given me the chance to regain the ten pounds I lost last month worrying about myself, through different parties to celebrate the success of the books, and in hospitality suites on the way to, or from, different interviews.
Something I had noticed these last few years, during my body-building regime, has now fully blossomed – everyone is really happy to see me. My friends have even taken to giving me a pat on my belly, supposedly for good luck. I haven’t become a “jolly fat man”, because I don’t hide my emotions well enough for that, but it’s as if what I’m doing – living my dreams – is bringing out those feelings in others. I’m doing what others wouldn’t always have the courage to do themselves – it makes me feel good, which makes them feel good, which encourages me to carry on “as normal”. How do I know this is right? My friends are now encouraging me to gain more weight, and offer to help in any way possible. This is more like my original vision, back at the start of it all. This is brilliant – I gained back those ten pounds by April, so how much can I gain by the end of the year?
By July, I could celebrate my 28th birthday with the discovery of what I will be writing next – science fiction. While it allows for flights of fancy, science fiction can comment on contemporary issues while being set – safely – in the future. There are too many reasons to go for this genre, alone with being a ripe area for genre mixing – if I still have a crime story, I can still write it in a science fiction setting.
I have also gained fifty pounds in these last few months. I discovered what I really enjoy about my body – my muscles are still visible under all this fat, giving me the definition I wouldn’t have had if it was all fat. I must continue to have this sort of body if I want to continue getting bigger – the fact I can still get around without any difficulty is surely due to having such big muscles – I can feel the power in them.
The acclaim from the trilogy continued to the end of the year, and I won a few awards for the work. People are now eagerly awaiting my science fiction stories, which I will begin next year. This brought a crucial, and ultimately brilliant year to a close, and I await next year. Plus, will my now six hundred pound body grow any further? I know it will, but by how much?
YEAR FIVE
I have been keeping in contact with Lisa since she moved to the United States. In February, I went to visit her for the first time in over a year – taking a twelve-hour flight to Los Angeles is an ordeal for anyone, but doing so and have to pay for two seats on the plane in order to have enough room for myself – I’ll only do that every so often.
When I reached Lisa’s apartment, I was greeted by a surprise – Lisa had kept her word regarding how much she loved gaining weight, after her relationship back home with me. She now weighed 380 lbs., and had expanded in all directions from when I last saw her. Lisa’s belly now rested on her thighs, her ass had acquired an American-style shelf, and her thighs, breasts and arms were massive – and she loved all of it, and so she should.
Lisa was also surprised by me – I had already gained twenty more pounds this year – my 620 lbs. body was a true sight to behold, but I could still get easily get around, despite there being ever more of me to move.
We embraced, and immediately entered the second stage of the relationship we always knew we put on hold. We broke Lisa’s bed together with our half-ton weight. We were overjoyed.
I was visiting the United States for a month, and I intended on taking advantage of every morsel American restaurants had to offer – and the size of portions were another matter. It was an opportunity for Lisa and I to feed each other. I told Lisa I was gaining fat without any limit, and she intended on taking full advantage of that – I let her.
In that month, I gained a massive fifty pounds – all of which seemingly around my middle, which I imagined was going to be the case as I was mainly horizontal for the whole time. The United States leads the world in sitting down, even while moving place to place in their cars, and anyone who entered their borders would have to do the same.
Lisa gained only twenty pounds, but she was now a total of four hundred pounds – and still loving the prospects of gaining more. She intended on gaining more with me for a long time yet – on my last day, Lisa revealed that she was moving back to Britain. I was completely astounded, and ecstatic. However, it would not be for another three months. That didn’t matter – we could wait, and anticipate. We left each other at the airport knowing it wouldn’t be too long before that heavenly month could be repeated. I also knew I had been upgraded to first class on the plane back to Britain – it was easier for the airline than giving me two seats together.
I had another book to complete, and I knew that would be what would fill the next three months. However, my desk was also lined with sugary treats – I was going to see how much weight I would gain by the next time I would see Lisa. I want to see her response, as I liked her gasp when she saw me at 620 lbs.
And so, one hundred thousand words and countless calories later, I was ready to meet Lisa. However, I told her to meet me at home – I had a plan. She rang the doorbell, and I told her the door was unlocked. She walked in, and she had a surprise – I was on my new, big leather sofa, in as seductive a pose as I could manage, with a rose between my teeth – naked. A sight only for connoisseurs, you would imagine – certainly so, as I weighed a magnificent seven hundred pounds. My belly now filled my lap, pushing my huge legs aside on a descent to the floor. My ass now only filled half the sofa, as I bought one for, intentionally at least, four people.
An astonished Lisa joined me, filling up the rest of the sofa. She did the same as me, now weighing 450 lbs., her whole body succumbing to gravity further. We made love on the floor, as we now knew nothing was strong enough to hold us, unless we had something made. That was wickedly wrong, but felt so right.
We recreated that month again, and again, and again. We were in love with our minds, and in list with the insatiable appetite of our bodies. It only spurred me on to write more, and better, than before, just like the old days. I finally knew why Lisa returned to Britain – she missed being an inspiration to someone. Lisa did well enough in her script reader job, and it continued to a new role as a script editor for screenplays – and novels. Another pair of eyes to watch over my two great works – my writing, and my body – is all too welcome.
The end of the year had great surprises for both Lisa and I. We deliberately had not weighed ourselves since she arrived back in June. So, seven full months later, we chose to find out what we had done to ourselves. It was a shock – Lisa, whose belly now approached her knees, weighed a massive 530 lbs. – heavenly is the only word. I, on the other hand, was truly colossal at a total of 835 lbs., as I was the focus of our weight gain. My belly was also approaching my knees, and somehow my massive muscles, which I have continued to work on, are still evident amongst a sea of flesh. What I am slightly wary about now, however, is that my gain rate is slowing, as I am now so fat. I am definitely going to continue for some time, but I know that if there is a limit, it is nearer than before.
to be cont/...
