~BHM, Autofeeding, Magic ~SWG - A would-be BHM acts out a forbidden fantasy with his wife out of town and gets some unanticipated help
[Author's Comment: Hello all. It's been awhile, so perhaps I should re-introduce myself. Over the past several years I've submitted several stories which are in the archives. I also have a site with all 40 plus of my stories called Maxout's Story Shop.
www.geocities.com/maxoutfa
Anyway - Over The Edge is one of my more recent efforts, so I thought I'd share it with you. As is the case with most of my work, it is not an instant gratification, massive weight gain (although there are dream sequences that run along that line) tale, but more of a frame of mind, with some eating and the aformentioned dream sequences, kind of piece. There also exists an underlying degree of something supernatural.
So, I hope you enjoy the story. Comments are appreciated, and if you like the style and tone, I encourage you to check out my other work via the archives and my site.]
OVER THE EDGE
By Maxout
Chapter One
It was time. He knew it was coming, had given it some serious thought and planning, and yet now that it was here he had that same old tingle of apprehension. He knew all too well that the majority of the negativity he was feeling was merely a conditioned response, and yet, even though he was a maverick by nature, he had to admit it was one thing to talk the talk and quite another to come to the edge and take that last step.
He had often thought of this moment as coming out of the closet. In both instances the sexual wiring is a little left of the norm, and that being the case there exists the potential for disdain and ridicule, which in his case shouldnt factor as a deterrent simply because part of the juice was in being noticed and singled out.
So the day had arrived and yet he wondered at his reluctance. Part of him realized that it was just another step down a road he wanted to travel, and reasoned that if he so desired he could just as easily turn around and head back, but deep in his heart he knew; all the baby steps he had taken over the last five years had led him to the edge, and once here the next step would be a statement, for which once taken could not be taken back.
He found himself, as he often did, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He still recognized himself, and believed that he could, at this moment, still pass as his old self, though the occasional dipping of his little toe in the deep waters had made some changes; he could see them clear as day, but to this point had received no outside acknowledgement of the change; something he feared and yet craved.
He assumed that part of the non-acknowledgement was simply due to societal factors, which, when you think about it is bizarre as on one hand society is so ready to ostracize and then on the other too polite to make verbal that same distaste. He imagined that there was probably already some gossip, talk behind his back by others who had noticed his change, but of course it would be an egregious sin to confront him with those same words.
Oh he could just hear the relish in their voices as they espoused their observations. The glee that someone else had succumbed and by doing so had perforce increased their own sense of self worth. A manifesto that the failure of others increased their position in the world.
He wanted no part of that rationale, in fact, for the most part simply wanted to be left alone, in spite of his deep seated yearning to be singled out. There was a certain perverse logic in wanting to be the focal point of everyones derision while truly not caring about your supposed lack of fortitude. The fact that the physical manifestation of your choice was the direct result of a conscious decision on your part made the potential of their scorn all the more ironic.
So why hold back? Looking over the edge there wasnt really anything akin to vertigo, no great demon waiting to devour his soul. So take that last step. Give your private passion the week you said youd give it, and if the end result is an obvious physical evidence of your perversity, then you get the recognition youve desired all along: a win win situation if there ever was one.
He steeled his resolve and let it begin, vowing that once he started he was not going to give a halfhearted effort. What was the old saying in for a penny, in for a pound. Yes indeed, all that and more.
Beginning the week by driving his wife to the airport for her annual Yule time visit with her parents, he began the one-hour drive home by taking a detour for an assorted dozen Krispy Kremes. By the time he arrived back home four donuts had found their way into his mouth, his lips covered with confectioners sugar. He was feeling amped up and wired, due in no small amount to the sugar intake. But there was more to it than just a sugar rush; he was living the dream and the anticipation of the rest of the week was a palpable pleasure.
Five years ago when he first began to dabble, he had managed to gain ten pounds on a similar weeklong foray. While he had enjoyed the first signs of a rounding to his belly he was torn between the need to be noticed at his new weight and at the same time fearing just that. He held his breath when he picked his wife up at the airport. Would she notice right off? She gave him a hug; did he feel any softer? He breathed a sigh of relief, tinged with a bittersweet sense of loss that she either didnt notice or wasnt saying.
That evening as they disrobed to soak in the hot tub he wondered again if she would notice. He was tempted to stick out his belly, but then that would just be faking it, wouldnt it? No, he wanted an all natural response to how he really looked, feeling that if he forced her to take notice then the victory was hollow. Again, he was met with silence.
As he thought back to that first experiment he recalled how sturdy his metabolism was. Through no serious effort on his part 8 of the 10 pounds vanished within the following week. At the time he met this with mixed feelings; wondering if it was some kind of cosmic sign that he should simply leave his perverse yearning alone since it was obvious that his body wasnt cut out for easy weight gain.
Still, little by little, persistence paid off. He fondly remembered the following year when wifey once again departed, this year a week later than usual. The day after her departure was the annual bridge group Xmas dinner party. It fell on him to bring deserts for the 40 members, so he purchased three large cheesecakes. At the end of the festivities as he was helping clean up he noticed that only one cake had disappeared and the other two were only half eaten. He asked around to see if anyone else wanted to take them home, and when all replied in the negative he realized that serendipity was smiling upon him.
The next day he got home from work, and after eating a sizeable dinner sat down at the computer with one of the half cheesecakes by his side. After two hours of gaming fun he looked over to see that the plate was empty. His stomach gurgled and he felt a rush of incredible fullness. He undid the snap on his slacks, easing the tension and then stared absently at his engorged belly. He began rubbing, feeling his tummy so hard and distended.
Rising from the computer he went to take a shower. As the hot water rained down on him he reveled in the slight convex curve of his belly, imagining how he would feel if his belly were twice as large, letting his mind flow on the stream of Im going to be fat.
His hand moved slowly downward from his belly to find a not surprisingly stiff shaft, itself engorged. As he dreamed of his future immensity he pleasured himself, relishing the intense carnality of his lust.
Spent, he still felt overly sexy. The joy of his experience and the heightened sense of reality made him want to gorge even more. He raced into the kitchen wearing only a terry cloth robe and proceeded to devour the second half cheesecake. Bite after bite in rapid succession, not tasting, not feeling, simply living inside the act itself, believing that with every forkful he was getting fatter and fatter.
When the cheesecake was consumed he gazed down at his belly through a part between the two sides of the robe. It was glistening hard pink and swollen, distended as if he were pregnant. He rubbed it lovingly and then rose from the table, deciding that he wanted to get a better view of his immensity via the standing mirror in the closet. When he rose it felt as if a bowling ball had fallen to the pit of his stomach. He waddled down the hallway and disrobed in front of the mirror, reveling at the way his gut jutted out from his torso.
I bet Ive gained 10 pounds tonight he thought, and then raced into the bathroom to step on the scale. He was disappointed that the scale only showed a four-pound gain since morning. Sad, it felt like so much more! Still, four pounds is nothing to sneeze at. Imagine, four pounds today, one pound yesterday, and hes still got five more days before the wife gets home. Could he possibly outdo last year and gain say 15 pounds in the week! Two pounds a day!
Oh man, he was getting hard again just thinking about it. He theorized that it was possible that all this food was giving him extra fuel, making him a sexual superman; if nothing more, since he was acting out his sexual dream it sure wasnt doing his libido any harm.
Sadly, later that evening, when his heart rate had slowed down, he began feeling the effects of having eaten in effect an entire large cheesecake. His body actually began to tremble from the sugar imbalance, feeling a coldness coursing through him. He was too wired to sleep, but then suddenly he crashed into a fitful sleep filled with oddly disconnected hallucinatory nightmares.
His body was seriously wacked out for the next two days, and even now he cant bring himself to seriously consider eating cheesecake. So, derailed by sugar shock he ended the week with only a two pound gain, but with the sweet memory of that incredible gorging high.
As he sat idly munching on a snickers bar his mind drifted back to that summer, what was it, two years ago now? He had met up with a young lady on the net who, after he poured out his desires and frustrations agreed to be his long distance feeder. What a glorious time it was. Binging on the sly and then telling her all the details. There was an evil feeling of glee when he stole into the kitchen just before bedtime to imbibe a heaping tablespoon of peanut butter, as he had heard that this tactic just before bed was a real good gaining technique.
In truth it worked, especially coupled with the twice weekly forays into town to pick up the mail, wherein he made the detour to Jack In The Box for a grilled sourdough burger and their new extra large milk shake. He managed to gain 8 pounds over a three month period, but it wasnt enough for his internet feeder. She began to make things a little bit too personal, which along with a lingering sense of wrongdoing concerning both his wife and his appearance, caused him to break things off.
He licked chocolate off his fingers remembering oh so well. He came so close to the edge that summer. His body was beginning to alter as overall he was almost twenty pounds heavier than when he began binging. His musculature was slowly being camouflaged by a thin layer of flab, especially around his belly where he could now pinch an inch of fat just below his belly button.
If only he had continued on that year, kept eating the occasional extra meal and those dollops of peanut butter. He was sure that by the time of the annual east coast trek he would have already been in position where a weeklong binge would have done the trick for sure. But no matter, it didnt happen then, but was going to happen now. The key was not when it would happen, but simply that it was going to.
He was brought out of his reverie by the timer dinging to signify that his pizza was ready to eat. He retrieved it from the oven, quartered it with a knife and quickly devoured one of the massive slices. He began to feel that great buzz that he felt when he was into one of his binge states. The second slice disappeared and then the third, washed down with a couple of brews. He vowed that this week there would be no turning back. He promised himself that one way or the other he was going to gain fifteen pounds this week, a number that, added to the twenty five pounds he had gained over five years, would officially register him as a fat man.
He realized that even before he started this week he wasnt exactly svelte anymore. His midsection had thickened and his belly had rounded, but he was still able to fake it, doing a reasonable imitation of a thin person, even though all his pants were beginning to get tight. But another fifteen pounds, all gained in rapid succession, now that and the extra inch or two to his belly would be hard to ignore!
Gazing down at his belly where the entire large pizza now resided he felt that his stomach was already growing, but he didnt want to rush things. No, time to weigh and measure himself come morning; that was the drill and he was going to follow the regimen. Besides, he was just getting started. He had plenty of chowing down to do between now and tomorrow morning.
He sat down to watch his favorite movie Le Grande Buffet with a large bowl of corn chips smothered in cheese sauce, his own version of nachos, which he accompanied with another couple of beers. By the end of the movie he was feeling delightfully full and bloated, his belly rising up from his chest cavity. He began a slow rubbing which made his stomach gurgle. He chuckled. Ah yes, this was going to be good.
As evening approached he lit the barbeque and took the large rack of baby back ribs out of their marinade. While he was waiting for the coals to heat he made himself a small green salad, smothering it with half a bottle of creamy ranch dressing. Gotta get my roughage, he murmured as he spooned the last bit of dressing into his gullet.
By the time he threw the ribs on the barbeque he was feeling quite full, but then gave himself a little pep talk. No way was he going to stop now, not so soon. Maybe take a little breather, sure, but he was damned sure that he was going to finish off that rack of ribs come hell or high water, and at least half of the family sized serving of pasta alfredo to boot.
It didnt hurt that the ribs and fettuccine were two of his favorite dishes. As he took the slab off the barbeque he got a good waft of the smoky sizzling smell of cooked pork and his mouth began to salivate. Full or not he tore into the ribs, sucking the pungent sauce from the bones and then downing large forkfuls of creamy pasta. It all tasted so yummy as he alternated between pasta and ribs and slugs of cold amber porter, barely registering the uncomfortable feeling emanating from his midsection as his already full stomach strained to accept more and more foodstuff.
At some point during the meal he had shed his pants and was wearing only a long tee shirt. As his gorging finally slowed and then came to an abrupt stop with a healthy belch he surveyed the damage; the slab of ribs were nothing but a pile of licked clean bones and there was only a small clump of pasta left in the pot. He looked down at his belly, which was arching high and hard, straining the confines of this tee shirt, which rode upwards on his gut. He leaned back in his chair and gave a contented sigh as he absently rubbed at his bloated belly.
After a time he rose from his chair and moved into the living room where he sat mindlessly watching college football, all the while the back of his mind was itching you need to eat some more, dont stop now. At half-time he decided to scratch his itch with a pint of Cheery Garcia; the cool, soft ice cream going down smoothly and tasting simply marvelous.
He was going to stop about halfway through, but by that time the ice cream was beginning to melt and there were enough different taste targets that he kept going for just one more spoonful; catching a chocolate bite with this spoon, a cherry with the next, until halfway through the fourth quarter he was running his spoon around the sides and bottom of the container to get that last soupy spoonful.
His stomach, which had just started to feel, if not normal, then at least not enlarged to the point of pain as half-time approached, was now woefully distended again. He felt that it was stretched to a point further than it had ever been before and wondered if he was going to be able to eat much of anything come morning. He inwardly shrugged; it was of no consequence as tonight he was sure he had gotten off to a terrific start.
He kicked back the recliner and hand on his swollen belly, fell into a blissful dream where he was the proud possessor of an immense 65 inch belly that jutted out from his thin frame like a sail tacking with the wind. In the dream every woman he had ever known had come before him like he was some kind of medieval potentate, all fawning over his hugeness and begging to be allowed to rub his immenseness, as if it were some kind of religious icon, like Buddha.
Awaking from the dream in the predawn hours he managed to groggily move himself from his chair into the bedroom, his belly still feeling heavy and engorged as if he were indeed still in his Buddha like state.
**********
It was mid morning when the bright high desert sun awoke him from his slumbers. Ah such pleasant dreams, he scarcely wanted to escape from them and back into reality. As he head cleared he gave some thought to that reality. He peeked under the blankets, half expecting to see the immense belly of his dream, but while the visage was disappointing in that regard he still surmised that he was still puffy and swollen.
He swung his legs out from the bed and rose to a standing position, feeling the heaviness in the pit of his stomach. He patted it fondly and headed for the bathroom. The scale showed a three pound gain. He should have been elated, but felt that he was being cheated.
Alright, it felt like more than that! He gazed down at his belly, which still arched out slightly from his ribcage. Turning sideways he looked at his profile in the mirror. It looked like he was thicker and that his gut was hanging lower than yesterday. Maybe it was just his imagination, but imaginings or no, it got his juices flowing again and so it was with great gusto that he donned a fresh tee shirt and strode to the kitchen to break his fast.
He dipped cereal in peanut butter while he rustled up a large batch of hot cakes, which he then, in a deft move, smothered with a warm hot fudge sauce. Yumm, heavenly, as the large stack sunk into his belly like a rock. Feeling blissfully bloated yet again he grabbed a snickers bar and headed in to check his e-mail, and do some web surfing. Awhile later he resurfaced to set his Tivo to record the afternoon NFL game and then detoured into the kitchen to make himself a milkshake and a pastrami sandwich. He spent the afternoon playing video games, pausing from time to time to retrace his steps into the kitchen for tasty morsels: pate and crackers, a payday, chips and salsa, a kit kat bar. Not being particular as it all tasted good and kept his belly feeling wonderfully stuffed.
At around five he made himself some hot wings and then placed a pre-made chicken cordon bleu into the already warm oven. He took the wings and some blue cheese dressing for dipping and sat down to watch some football. The oven timer dinged just as halftime was beginning so he put the game on hold and fried up some potatoes to go with the chicken and then heated up some veggies.
With that accomplished he removed the two stuffed chickens and arranged them on a plate, which he then carried back into the living room so he could watch the second half. The first chicken went down with no struggle, but the second one started putting up a fight about halfway through. He felt totally stuffed and his breath was coming in short bursts. He didnt want to take a break, or even slow down but felt that if he didnt take a breather he was going to burst.
He reclined in his chair and started rubbing his poor bloated belly, hoping to find more room and at the same time give himself some relief. After about fifteen minutes the pain in his gut subsided so he resumed playback of the football game, which gave him something to watch as he continued to rub.
By games end he was feeling much better so he popped the remainder of the chicken into the microwave to heat it back up, and then did a magic act, making the chicken disappear into his belly. He then waddled into the bathroom, glancing at the mirror as he passed by.
He felt huge and he looked wow! His gut was jutting out from his torso like he had swallowed a basketball. As he slowly rotated in front of the mirror it seemed like his stomach had gotten round in all directions. He bent with some difficulty to retrieve the tape measure from the bottom drawer what an idiot, he should always leave the damn thing somewhere more accessible bending over like this sure wasnt doing his stuffed belly any favors.
He drew the tape around his gut just at his navel. 40-1/2 inches!! He had done it! Broken the 40-inch mark. Oh baby, officially into the land of the fat now. No turning back. He realized that he had managed to put 9 inches on his waist over the last five years. He felt himself getting hard and chuckled that with his gut this huge he had to bend forward slightly to see his hard on. He moved to the shower where he actually sunk to his knees when the pleasure overtook him. He leaned a cheek against the smooth, cool tiles and swore again that this was only the beginning.
Later in the evening, still feeling a blissful glow, he made himself a large bowl of caramel corn, which he smothered in peanut butter and then sat down to watch Big Night, quenching his thirst with a couple of beers.
After the movie he made himself a bowl of chocolate pudding, which somehow managed to place between his knees, his swollen belly making for a tight fit, and using a large serving spoon, emptied the contents into his gullet.
He then rolled into the bedroom and sunk into the mattress, lying on his side, his belly jutting out. He fell into a sugar coated coma with his hand sliding off his swollen gut to rest on his still semi-hard cock; his dreams a wondrous concoction of fellatio and huge bellies, having to hold up his huge expanse so that the women could service him.
[Author's Comment: Hello all. It's been awhile, so perhaps I should re-introduce myself. Over the past several years I've submitted several stories which are in the archives. I also have a site with all 40 plus of my stories called Maxout's Story Shop.
www.geocities.com/maxoutfa
Anyway - Over The Edge is one of my more recent efforts, so I thought I'd share it with you. As is the case with most of my work, it is not an instant gratification, massive weight gain (although there are dream sequences that run along that line) tale, but more of a frame of mind, with some eating and the aformentioned dream sequences, kind of piece. There also exists an underlying degree of something supernatural.
So, I hope you enjoy the story. Comments are appreciated, and if you like the style and tone, I encourage you to check out my other work via the archives and my site.]
OVER THE EDGE
By Maxout
Chapter One
It was time. He knew it was coming, had given it some serious thought and planning, and yet now that it was here he had that same old tingle of apprehension. He knew all too well that the majority of the negativity he was feeling was merely a conditioned response, and yet, even though he was a maverick by nature, he had to admit it was one thing to talk the talk and quite another to come to the edge and take that last step.
He had often thought of this moment as coming out of the closet. In both instances the sexual wiring is a little left of the norm, and that being the case there exists the potential for disdain and ridicule, which in his case shouldnt factor as a deterrent simply because part of the juice was in being noticed and singled out.
So the day had arrived and yet he wondered at his reluctance. Part of him realized that it was just another step down a road he wanted to travel, and reasoned that if he so desired he could just as easily turn around and head back, but deep in his heart he knew; all the baby steps he had taken over the last five years had led him to the edge, and once here the next step would be a statement, for which once taken could not be taken back.
He found himself, as he often did, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He still recognized himself, and believed that he could, at this moment, still pass as his old self, though the occasional dipping of his little toe in the deep waters had made some changes; he could see them clear as day, but to this point had received no outside acknowledgement of the change; something he feared and yet craved.
He assumed that part of the non-acknowledgement was simply due to societal factors, which, when you think about it is bizarre as on one hand society is so ready to ostracize and then on the other too polite to make verbal that same distaste. He imagined that there was probably already some gossip, talk behind his back by others who had noticed his change, but of course it would be an egregious sin to confront him with those same words.
Oh he could just hear the relish in their voices as they espoused their observations. The glee that someone else had succumbed and by doing so had perforce increased their own sense of self worth. A manifesto that the failure of others increased their position in the world.
He wanted no part of that rationale, in fact, for the most part simply wanted to be left alone, in spite of his deep seated yearning to be singled out. There was a certain perverse logic in wanting to be the focal point of everyones derision while truly not caring about your supposed lack of fortitude. The fact that the physical manifestation of your choice was the direct result of a conscious decision on your part made the potential of their scorn all the more ironic.
So why hold back? Looking over the edge there wasnt really anything akin to vertigo, no great demon waiting to devour his soul. So take that last step. Give your private passion the week you said youd give it, and if the end result is an obvious physical evidence of your perversity, then you get the recognition youve desired all along: a win win situation if there ever was one.
He steeled his resolve and let it begin, vowing that once he started he was not going to give a halfhearted effort. What was the old saying in for a penny, in for a pound. Yes indeed, all that and more.
Beginning the week by driving his wife to the airport for her annual Yule time visit with her parents, he began the one-hour drive home by taking a detour for an assorted dozen Krispy Kremes. By the time he arrived back home four donuts had found their way into his mouth, his lips covered with confectioners sugar. He was feeling amped up and wired, due in no small amount to the sugar intake. But there was more to it than just a sugar rush; he was living the dream and the anticipation of the rest of the week was a palpable pleasure.
Five years ago when he first began to dabble, he had managed to gain ten pounds on a similar weeklong foray. While he had enjoyed the first signs of a rounding to his belly he was torn between the need to be noticed at his new weight and at the same time fearing just that. He held his breath when he picked his wife up at the airport. Would she notice right off? She gave him a hug; did he feel any softer? He breathed a sigh of relief, tinged with a bittersweet sense of loss that she either didnt notice or wasnt saying.
That evening as they disrobed to soak in the hot tub he wondered again if she would notice. He was tempted to stick out his belly, but then that would just be faking it, wouldnt it? No, he wanted an all natural response to how he really looked, feeling that if he forced her to take notice then the victory was hollow. Again, he was met with silence.
As he thought back to that first experiment he recalled how sturdy his metabolism was. Through no serious effort on his part 8 of the 10 pounds vanished within the following week. At the time he met this with mixed feelings; wondering if it was some kind of cosmic sign that he should simply leave his perverse yearning alone since it was obvious that his body wasnt cut out for easy weight gain.
Still, little by little, persistence paid off. He fondly remembered the following year when wifey once again departed, this year a week later than usual. The day after her departure was the annual bridge group Xmas dinner party. It fell on him to bring deserts for the 40 members, so he purchased three large cheesecakes. At the end of the festivities as he was helping clean up he noticed that only one cake had disappeared and the other two were only half eaten. He asked around to see if anyone else wanted to take them home, and when all replied in the negative he realized that serendipity was smiling upon him.
The next day he got home from work, and after eating a sizeable dinner sat down at the computer with one of the half cheesecakes by his side. After two hours of gaming fun he looked over to see that the plate was empty. His stomach gurgled and he felt a rush of incredible fullness. He undid the snap on his slacks, easing the tension and then stared absently at his engorged belly. He began rubbing, feeling his tummy so hard and distended.
Rising from the computer he went to take a shower. As the hot water rained down on him he reveled in the slight convex curve of his belly, imagining how he would feel if his belly were twice as large, letting his mind flow on the stream of Im going to be fat.
His hand moved slowly downward from his belly to find a not surprisingly stiff shaft, itself engorged. As he dreamed of his future immensity he pleasured himself, relishing the intense carnality of his lust.
Spent, he still felt overly sexy. The joy of his experience and the heightened sense of reality made him want to gorge even more. He raced into the kitchen wearing only a terry cloth robe and proceeded to devour the second half cheesecake. Bite after bite in rapid succession, not tasting, not feeling, simply living inside the act itself, believing that with every forkful he was getting fatter and fatter.
When the cheesecake was consumed he gazed down at his belly through a part between the two sides of the robe. It was glistening hard pink and swollen, distended as if he were pregnant. He rubbed it lovingly and then rose from the table, deciding that he wanted to get a better view of his immensity via the standing mirror in the closet. When he rose it felt as if a bowling ball had fallen to the pit of his stomach. He waddled down the hallway and disrobed in front of the mirror, reveling at the way his gut jutted out from his torso.
I bet Ive gained 10 pounds tonight he thought, and then raced into the bathroom to step on the scale. He was disappointed that the scale only showed a four-pound gain since morning. Sad, it felt like so much more! Still, four pounds is nothing to sneeze at. Imagine, four pounds today, one pound yesterday, and hes still got five more days before the wife gets home. Could he possibly outdo last year and gain say 15 pounds in the week! Two pounds a day!
Oh man, he was getting hard again just thinking about it. He theorized that it was possible that all this food was giving him extra fuel, making him a sexual superman; if nothing more, since he was acting out his sexual dream it sure wasnt doing his libido any harm.
Sadly, later that evening, when his heart rate had slowed down, he began feeling the effects of having eaten in effect an entire large cheesecake. His body actually began to tremble from the sugar imbalance, feeling a coldness coursing through him. He was too wired to sleep, but then suddenly he crashed into a fitful sleep filled with oddly disconnected hallucinatory nightmares.
His body was seriously wacked out for the next two days, and even now he cant bring himself to seriously consider eating cheesecake. So, derailed by sugar shock he ended the week with only a two pound gain, but with the sweet memory of that incredible gorging high.
As he sat idly munching on a snickers bar his mind drifted back to that summer, what was it, two years ago now? He had met up with a young lady on the net who, after he poured out his desires and frustrations agreed to be his long distance feeder. What a glorious time it was. Binging on the sly and then telling her all the details. There was an evil feeling of glee when he stole into the kitchen just before bedtime to imbibe a heaping tablespoon of peanut butter, as he had heard that this tactic just before bed was a real good gaining technique.
In truth it worked, especially coupled with the twice weekly forays into town to pick up the mail, wherein he made the detour to Jack In The Box for a grilled sourdough burger and their new extra large milk shake. He managed to gain 8 pounds over a three month period, but it wasnt enough for his internet feeder. She began to make things a little bit too personal, which along with a lingering sense of wrongdoing concerning both his wife and his appearance, caused him to break things off.
He licked chocolate off his fingers remembering oh so well. He came so close to the edge that summer. His body was beginning to alter as overall he was almost twenty pounds heavier than when he began binging. His musculature was slowly being camouflaged by a thin layer of flab, especially around his belly where he could now pinch an inch of fat just below his belly button.
If only he had continued on that year, kept eating the occasional extra meal and those dollops of peanut butter. He was sure that by the time of the annual east coast trek he would have already been in position where a weeklong binge would have done the trick for sure. But no matter, it didnt happen then, but was going to happen now. The key was not when it would happen, but simply that it was going to.
He was brought out of his reverie by the timer dinging to signify that his pizza was ready to eat. He retrieved it from the oven, quartered it with a knife and quickly devoured one of the massive slices. He began to feel that great buzz that he felt when he was into one of his binge states. The second slice disappeared and then the third, washed down with a couple of brews. He vowed that this week there would be no turning back. He promised himself that one way or the other he was going to gain fifteen pounds this week, a number that, added to the twenty five pounds he had gained over five years, would officially register him as a fat man.
He realized that even before he started this week he wasnt exactly svelte anymore. His midsection had thickened and his belly had rounded, but he was still able to fake it, doing a reasonable imitation of a thin person, even though all his pants were beginning to get tight. But another fifteen pounds, all gained in rapid succession, now that and the extra inch or two to his belly would be hard to ignore!
Gazing down at his belly where the entire large pizza now resided he felt that his stomach was already growing, but he didnt want to rush things. No, time to weigh and measure himself come morning; that was the drill and he was going to follow the regimen. Besides, he was just getting started. He had plenty of chowing down to do between now and tomorrow morning.
He sat down to watch his favorite movie Le Grande Buffet with a large bowl of corn chips smothered in cheese sauce, his own version of nachos, which he accompanied with another couple of beers. By the end of the movie he was feeling delightfully full and bloated, his belly rising up from his chest cavity. He began a slow rubbing which made his stomach gurgle. He chuckled. Ah yes, this was going to be good.
As evening approached he lit the barbeque and took the large rack of baby back ribs out of their marinade. While he was waiting for the coals to heat he made himself a small green salad, smothering it with half a bottle of creamy ranch dressing. Gotta get my roughage, he murmured as he spooned the last bit of dressing into his gullet.
By the time he threw the ribs on the barbeque he was feeling quite full, but then gave himself a little pep talk. No way was he going to stop now, not so soon. Maybe take a little breather, sure, but he was damned sure that he was going to finish off that rack of ribs come hell or high water, and at least half of the family sized serving of pasta alfredo to boot.
It didnt hurt that the ribs and fettuccine were two of his favorite dishes. As he took the slab off the barbeque he got a good waft of the smoky sizzling smell of cooked pork and his mouth began to salivate. Full or not he tore into the ribs, sucking the pungent sauce from the bones and then downing large forkfuls of creamy pasta. It all tasted so yummy as he alternated between pasta and ribs and slugs of cold amber porter, barely registering the uncomfortable feeling emanating from his midsection as his already full stomach strained to accept more and more foodstuff.
At some point during the meal he had shed his pants and was wearing only a long tee shirt. As his gorging finally slowed and then came to an abrupt stop with a healthy belch he surveyed the damage; the slab of ribs were nothing but a pile of licked clean bones and there was only a small clump of pasta left in the pot. He looked down at his belly, which was arching high and hard, straining the confines of this tee shirt, which rode upwards on his gut. He leaned back in his chair and gave a contented sigh as he absently rubbed at his bloated belly.
After a time he rose from his chair and moved into the living room where he sat mindlessly watching college football, all the while the back of his mind was itching you need to eat some more, dont stop now. At half-time he decided to scratch his itch with a pint of Cheery Garcia; the cool, soft ice cream going down smoothly and tasting simply marvelous.
He was going to stop about halfway through, but by that time the ice cream was beginning to melt and there were enough different taste targets that he kept going for just one more spoonful; catching a chocolate bite with this spoon, a cherry with the next, until halfway through the fourth quarter he was running his spoon around the sides and bottom of the container to get that last soupy spoonful.
His stomach, which had just started to feel, if not normal, then at least not enlarged to the point of pain as half-time approached, was now woefully distended again. He felt that it was stretched to a point further than it had ever been before and wondered if he was going to be able to eat much of anything come morning. He inwardly shrugged; it was of no consequence as tonight he was sure he had gotten off to a terrific start.
He kicked back the recliner and hand on his swollen belly, fell into a blissful dream where he was the proud possessor of an immense 65 inch belly that jutted out from his thin frame like a sail tacking with the wind. In the dream every woman he had ever known had come before him like he was some kind of medieval potentate, all fawning over his hugeness and begging to be allowed to rub his immenseness, as if it were some kind of religious icon, like Buddha.
Awaking from the dream in the predawn hours he managed to groggily move himself from his chair into the bedroom, his belly still feeling heavy and engorged as if he were indeed still in his Buddha like state.
**********
It was mid morning when the bright high desert sun awoke him from his slumbers. Ah such pleasant dreams, he scarcely wanted to escape from them and back into reality. As he head cleared he gave some thought to that reality. He peeked under the blankets, half expecting to see the immense belly of his dream, but while the visage was disappointing in that regard he still surmised that he was still puffy and swollen.
He swung his legs out from the bed and rose to a standing position, feeling the heaviness in the pit of his stomach. He patted it fondly and headed for the bathroom. The scale showed a three pound gain. He should have been elated, but felt that he was being cheated.
Alright, it felt like more than that! He gazed down at his belly, which still arched out slightly from his ribcage. Turning sideways he looked at his profile in the mirror. It looked like he was thicker and that his gut was hanging lower than yesterday. Maybe it was just his imagination, but imaginings or no, it got his juices flowing again and so it was with great gusto that he donned a fresh tee shirt and strode to the kitchen to break his fast.
He dipped cereal in peanut butter while he rustled up a large batch of hot cakes, which he then, in a deft move, smothered with a warm hot fudge sauce. Yumm, heavenly, as the large stack sunk into his belly like a rock. Feeling blissfully bloated yet again he grabbed a snickers bar and headed in to check his e-mail, and do some web surfing. Awhile later he resurfaced to set his Tivo to record the afternoon NFL game and then detoured into the kitchen to make himself a milkshake and a pastrami sandwich. He spent the afternoon playing video games, pausing from time to time to retrace his steps into the kitchen for tasty morsels: pate and crackers, a payday, chips and salsa, a kit kat bar. Not being particular as it all tasted good and kept his belly feeling wonderfully stuffed.
At around five he made himself some hot wings and then placed a pre-made chicken cordon bleu into the already warm oven. He took the wings and some blue cheese dressing for dipping and sat down to watch some football. The oven timer dinged just as halftime was beginning so he put the game on hold and fried up some potatoes to go with the chicken and then heated up some veggies.
With that accomplished he removed the two stuffed chickens and arranged them on a plate, which he then carried back into the living room so he could watch the second half. The first chicken went down with no struggle, but the second one started putting up a fight about halfway through. He felt totally stuffed and his breath was coming in short bursts. He didnt want to take a break, or even slow down but felt that if he didnt take a breather he was going to burst.
He reclined in his chair and started rubbing his poor bloated belly, hoping to find more room and at the same time give himself some relief. After about fifteen minutes the pain in his gut subsided so he resumed playback of the football game, which gave him something to watch as he continued to rub.
By games end he was feeling much better so he popped the remainder of the chicken into the microwave to heat it back up, and then did a magic act, making the chicken disappear into his belly. He then waddled into the bathroom, glancing at the mirror as he passed by.
He felt huge and he looked wow! His gut was jutting out from his torso like he had swallowed a basketball. As he slowly rotated in front of the mirror it seemed like his stomach had gotten round in all directions. He bent with some difficulty to retrieve the tape measure from the bottom drawer what an idiot, he should always leave the damn thing somewhere more accessible bending over like this sure wasnt doing his stuffed belly any favors.
He drew the tape around his gut just at his navel. 40-1/2 inches!! He had done it! Broken the 40-inch mark. Oh baby, officially into the land of the fat now. No turning back. He realized that he had managed to put 9 inches on his waist over the last five years. He felt himself getting hard and chuckled that with his gut this huge he had to bend forward slightly to see his hard on. He moved to the shower where he actually sunk to his knees when the pleasure overtook him. He leaned a cheek against the smooth, cool tiles and swore again that this was only the beginning.
Later in the evening, still feeling a blissful glow, he made himself a large bowl of caramel corn, which he smothered in peanut butter and then sat down to watch Big Night, quenching his thirst with a couple of beers.
After the movie he made himself a bowl of chocolate pudding, which somehow managed to place between his knees, his swollen belly making for a tight fit, and using a large serving spoon, emptied the contents into his gullet.
He then rolled into the bedroom and sunk into the mattress, lying on his side, his belly jutting out. He fell into a sugar coated coma with his hand sliding off his swollen gut to rest on his still semi-hard cock; his dreams a wondrous concoction of fellatio and huge bellies, having to hold up his huge expanse so that the women could service him.
