loopytheone
Well-Known Member
~BBW, Eating, Magic, ~~WG - A frothy story of misadventures with magic)
I admit that when I went away to Stanford for college, one of my highest priorities was meeting girls. I had been considered a little nerdish at my small town high school, and really hadn't had a dating life. I figured that a couple of thousand miles would give me a fresh start.
It wasn't as if I was horrid looking, or didn't wash, or anything. I figured I was pretty average looking, a little taller and a little heavier than your average Joe, but not so much that I'd stand out in a crowd. I was pretty sure that I was a nice guy, and interesting enough once you got to know me, but I'd never been good at the flashy, ‘pay attention to me-not-him’ stuff. So I was pretty sure I was dateable.
Of course, the other challenge was meeting the right woman. I wanted someone smart and ambitious, for starters, which was one reason I'd been delighted to be accepted at Stanford. Beyond smart and ambitious however, well I wasn't too proud about it, but I had always preferred plump girls. Make that "women," not "girls," since by the time you make it to college I guess you qualify as a woman. I was still a little uncomfortable with that term, as wanting to date a woman implied that I was a man, meaning an adult, and I wasn’t sure yet if I really was. I hoped I was, but I really didn’t have much experience in leading my own life.
Actually there was another correction that I need to make too. I’d always said it in my head “I prefer plump girls.” But the truth was more open ended than that. Once I was away from home, I was able to admit to myself that what I really liked was "women who were at least plump." I wasn't sure if there was an upper limit on how fat someone could be for me to still find them attractive, but I knew that if there was nobody in my small town had been beyond it. Not that I’d found all the fattest women attractive, but they’d been women, often mothers of other kids my age, and that was probably part of my issue. I was pretty sure I preferred women my own age.
When I settled in at school I found that my dorm complex was, unfortunately, mostly male. It was, for reasons nobody seemed to know, mostly populated by computer science students, and they were mostly male. Two of the six floors were for women, but eager scanning of the dining hall during the first few days of frosh week did not show any women there were big enough to really catch my eye. I had heard that a lot of girls, oops, women, packed on the pounds during their first year at college, and I was hoping that at least a couple of the pudgier girls I saw would grow into true beauties by the end of the year.
At the end of frosh week I saw one girl that I thought looked promising in that growing way. She was short, barely over five feet, and really cute. I saw her walking into her dorm, licking a double scoop ice cream cone. From my brief glimpse it looked like she had a slight bulge of a tummy, and that her shorts looked pretty tight on her nicely curved backside.
I kept my eyes peeled for her, especially in the cafeteria, but I didn't see her for almost two more weeks. When I did, I couldn't see any signs of a tummy. It looked like her cheeks had hollowed out too. She barely even picked at her Supper, mostly just drinking some tea. I concluded that she must have let herself go during orientation week, and had been dieting ever since.
I, on the other hand, had been doing anything but. I already mentioned that I was a bit heavier than average. I'd become downright fat during grades five and six, but then my parents had put in an indoor pool (not everyone in small towns is poor, and my parents were sufficiently well off to give me all the luxuries, and let me know how appreciative I should be of them). I'd started swimming every morning after that. I never became thin, but I did thin out somewhat, and developed wide enough shoulders to help balance off the width of my middle. With loose clothes on I tended to look almost solid, sort of like a football player or something, but without a top on you could tell that my middle was pudding soft. Truth be told I'd never tried too hard to get thinner than that. Much as I liked plump, or at least plump, girls-I-mean-women, I wanted a certain softness myself.
I’d thinned out enough that my parents had gotten off my case, and some girls had expressed the opinion that I’d look handsome enough if only I’d get my nose out of books and into a hot car, and I’d accepted that as a compromise size. I felt like a bit of an imposter, a secret fatty able to pass for normal. Now that I was away from home, away from my parents, and looking to meet a special woman who'd love me for who I was, not how I looked, I was flirting with revealing my secret inner self.
Well, maybe more than flirting. I was happily eating whatever appealed, when it appealed. There was a lot of complaints about food in the cafeteria, but I happily ate it all, along with late night pizza, snacks from vending machines, and hot chocolate and porridge made in my dorm room with my not-quite-permitted kettle.
A few days after seeing that girl all hollow-cheeked and not eating, I was walking out of the cafeteria serving line with my tray loaded up when I saw her again. You can imagine my surprise and pleasure when I saw that she was putting away a huge Supper, including chocolate milk and two desserts. I wondered if she was a yo-yo dieter, but resolved not to question my good fortune while it lasted.
I kept an eye on her out of the corner of my eye as she devoured her food, and I sighed as she quickly left the cafeteria. I asked around the guys I was sitting with, and someone knew who she was: “Short girl, dark brown hair, heart shaped face, on the second floor? She’s in my algebra class, her name is Sara something. But she’s an odd duck, seems kind of moody and stand-offish.” I finished my meal without really noticing it, rather lost in thought. I looked forward to the next time I saw her, in hopes that I'd get to see her eat like that again. I had never realized how arousing watching someone eat like that could be. On the other hand, if she was moody and stand-offish, maybe it was best to just enjoy watching her from a distance. I concluded that if I could just catch her pigging out like that once or twice a week I'd be pretty happy, even if she dieted the rest of the time and never gained weight.
Later that night I was in our lounge, watching TV, when she walked in, and asked if anybody wanted to work together on the Calculus 102 assignment, and would they be interested in sharing a pizza while they did it. I immediately volunteered for both jobs, mentally doing cartwheels that I had decided to take the more difficult 102 class instead of 101, but cursing my luck that she was obviously in the other section.
We signed out one of the small study rooms off the main cafeteria, and while I looked at the assignment she went out to a payphone to order pizza. She was distracted until it arrived, or should I say "they," since there was two medium pizzas. She explained that there was a two-for-one-plus-a-buck deal, but I carefully noted how much she ate as we worked on the problems. To be precise, she ate seven pieces, one whole medium pizza and one additional piece, over the next couple of hours.
And this was only a few hours after downing a full sized Supper! I was amazed that she could pack that much food into such a small body, amazed and powerfully turned on. Even more exciting was that she was good at calculus! None of the girls in my high school would ever have admitted being good at math, at least not around guys. But Sara, she’d flat out tell me when she thought I was on the wrong path, and then prove it to me. But she was also appreciative when I grasped questions on which she was struggling.
I was seriously smitten. Desperate to keep in touch I suggested making this a regular Sunday night session to work on the calc assignment together. To my absolute joy, she agreed.
During the next week I saw her frequently in the cafeteria, always with a well loaded tray. I also saw her on campus a couple of times, once eating a bagel, once drinking a can of soda. We chatted occasionally at meal time, and the more I got to know her, the better I liked her. I still loved to watch her eat, but frankly I loved to watch her do anything.
The next Sunday we had another pizza and calculus session. This time she "only" downed six pieces of pizza, but I was hardly going to complain. I finished off the other six pieces, but not without some discomfort from my jeans, which were getting a little tight around the waist. The really weird thing was that the pain from my jeans became erotic. The best I can explain it was there we were, both eating like pigs, eating enough that we were bound to gain weight, and there I was, getting ready to pop out of my pants, and somehow it felt like she was encouraging, or at least accepting my weight gain, and that was, well, pretty wild. It was a good thing that the calculus assignment wasn't too hard, because I have to admit that my mind wasn't too focused by the time we finished it.
I knew my eating was affecting me, and I was pretty sure I could see the effects of all that eating on her, too. The next morning confirmed it, as I happened to be behind her in line for breakfast. She was wearing a tight t-shirt, and I could see that her bra was digging into her sides a bit, making little mounds of fat just above and below it, and then when she sat down I could see a small roll of tummy over the top of her jeans. All that week I kept seeing other signs that her eating was having an impact, and I began to speculate how fat she would be by exam time.
The next Sunday, we worked on calculus together again, but she shocked me by saying that she wasn't interested in pizza. I hardly saw her in the cafeteria for the rest of the week, and when I did, she was hardly eating. I tried to get a chance to talk to her, but it never seemed to work out. When she showed up for our calculus session the next Sunday, she was clearly thinner already. When she again said she didn't want pizza, I asked her if she was OK, because she looked kind of drawn. She replied "Sorry, it's a monthly thing." And I shut up, red faced.
She hardly ate all that next week, too, and believe me I was keeping an eye out for that, concerned. Meanwhile, as the weight melted off of her, I had to go shopping for new jeans, since my gut had grown to the point that sitting through a class in my jeans was painful. It felt wrong to be gaining weight when she wasn't however, and I didn't enjoy shopping as much as I could have. I realized that much as I enjoyed eating like this, at this rate I'd balloon far to quickly, and I started cutting back a bit. I still ate heartily, just not quite so excessively.
I resolved to bring up her eating habits again on Sunday, and suggest she go see a doctor, in case she had mono or something. She had thinned out more than I thought possible during two weeks, and I was worried about her--not just because I was disappointed, but because I really did like her and wanted to make sure she was OK.
On Sunday morning, however, I met her in the cafeteria, just after it opened for breakfast. She had her tray loaded with everything she could get, and was devouring it like she hadn't eaten in weeks, which I suppose in a sense she hadn't. When I sat down next to her she was just finishing off the last bites.
We chatted, with me carefully avoiding any mention of eating habits. I noticed the way she kept eyeing my food, but I was hungry enough myself that I didn’t want to give it up. Finally I offered lightly "If you are still hungry, I have some instant oatmeal and an electric kettle in my room, I could make you a mug of porridge." I felt vaguely embarrassed to even be offering, and was sure she would turn me down.
She stared at me without blinking for several seconds. The look in her eye honestly scared me, so unexpectedly feral it was. Finally she said, "That would be great, I'm ravenous." The words were normal enough, but the tone was dead serious, and I got the feeling she could hardly wait for me to finish my breakfast.
We weren't really supposed to have women in our dorm rooms. Nobody cared if one stopped by to drop off some notes or something, but shutting your door with one inside was a real no-no. So was having a kettle, however, so we walked quietly to my room, slipped inside, and shut and locked the door. My roommate went home to Sacramento for the weekends, so we were safe enough. Nervously I went about boiling water and mixing up porridge, as she sat on my bed and silently watched. One by one, she ended up eating four packets of instant oatmeal porridge, before finally saying she was full.
She sat back on my bed, looking flushed and rubbed her stomach. "I shouldn't have eaten so much, so fast," she groaned, "but I was just soooo hungry this morning." The moment was full of tension, and intimacy, and I was trying to think of the perfect thing to say to crystallize those emotions. Then she abruptly announced “I should leave while the hallways are still empty.” She walked out, leaving me feeling deflated.
That evening we both carefully avoided mentioning breakfast. She had pizza already waiting when I got to our study session, however, with half of one pizza already gone. She ate the remaining three pieces of that pizza, and one piece of the other one before the evening was through. We spent more time together over the next couple of weeks, and it seemed whenever I saw her she was eating. By the end of the second week it looked like her jeans were skin tight, her bras were about to explode, and she was developing a second chin. I was having a hard time concentrating at all in her vicinity, between how much her gain was turning me on and how much I was mesmerized by everything else about her. The only thing was, whenever it seemed to me that we about to break through from study buddies to maybe something more, she’d suddenly pull away. Yet the way she looked at me other times suggested to me that she really did like me.
When she suddenly stopped eating again, I was half expecting it, but I didn't let it go by without questioning her. All she would say was "I can't help it." with such an anguished look in her eye that I didn't push the issue any further.
Suddenly I wasn’t seeing her around much, again, and I got the feeling she was avoiding me. I knew her schedule pretty well by then, however, and made sure to bump into her occasionally, keeping a careful eye on her condition. Her body language was really confusing me now, as when she’d see me she’d seem to light up, only to shut down again a couple of seconds later. Again the weight seemed to melt back off of her, although not quite to the point where she got the hollows back in her cheeks.
After two weeks of her fasting, I was woken by a quiet tapping on my door at 5:30am on Sunday morning. When I stumbled to open it up, dressed only in pajama bottoms, there she was, looking desperate. "Kevin, do you have any more porridge, I need some."
She sounded scared and desperate. Before I could get my sleepy brain to do more than worry about how clearly my soft middle was showing and say "yes, but..." she had pushed her way in and was plugging in my kettle. As she poured the dried porridge from its packet into a mug, I could see her hands shake.
Once she had devoured, and I use that word intentionally, three package of porridge, and was reaching for a fourth, I grabbed her wrists. "Sara, what is going on with you? Yesterday I saw you eat about three mouthfuls for Supper, and this morning you're ready to eat until you're in pain. Are you bulimic or something?" It was unusual for me to be so blunt, but it was also well before dawn and I wasn't in any usual state of mind. Still, I was horrified when she threw her arms around my chest and started crying.
I guided us over to my bed, and sat down, trying to get her to sit down as well. Instead she threw herself on the bed, and buried her face in my belly, grinding it into the flab. I was shocked, worried, and aroused. I couldn't help it, it was a natural reaction of some sort, but since I didn't want to poke her in the ear with an erection I scooped her up, and held her in my arms. She was heavy enough for someone so small, but I was given strength by my desperation.
Finally, she calmed down enough to sob out "It's the spell!"
Of course, I had no idea what she was talking about, so I just focused instead on stroking her hair and making comforting sounds until she was only sniffling. "Do you want to tell me all about it?" I asked.
"O-OK, but first could I have some more porridge?"
Eventually she had three more packets of porridge, and then went back to her room to shower and change, and then we caught an early morning bus off campus to buy breakfast, since the cafeteria wasn't open yet. She had the hungry man breakfast, and normally I would have been busy enjoying the sight, but I just asked "What is this about a spell?"
I had a hard time believing the story she launched into. Apparently she had found an ancient book of magic in her great-grandmother's effects when they were going through her stuff after she died. She had taken it, and found a description of a spell to transform yourself. It gave the example of turning into a wolf, but had warned that while in that state although you would retain your mind, the instincts of the wolf would be overwhelming. She hadn't had any interest in becoming part wolf, but had apparently been fighting to control her body and her appetite for years, without much success. She had finally figured out how to modify the spell to take on some of the characteristics of another person, and she had chosen her cousin June.
"The problem is," she finally explained, "I think the spell was for becoming a werewolf, not just a wolf. The change only effects me half the time, changing at the full and new moon. Right after the change over, the new feeling is extra strong, as if to make up for being away for two weeks."
"And it's getting worse." I suggested.
She mutely nodded, swirling the last of her home fries in a puddle of catsup. Finally she looked up and explained "Yeah, at first it wasn't too bad. The first two weeks were great, and then when it went back to normal, it wasn't too bad, I mean, I was used to fighting my appetite, and it wasn't too much worse than normal, and I just thought the spell had worn off. But then it came back on again, and I really went with it, and when it turned off again I began to figure out what was happening. I was able to go with it on the good weeks, and fight it on the bad weeks, and I did manage to really change my body."
"When did you cast this spell?"
"Late May."
"And its been steadily getting harder to control?"
"Yeah." She grimaced, "I thought it was just being at home in the summer with nothing else to do, but now I can really tell its getting stronger and stronger."
"Can you undo the spell?" I asked.
"I don't know how. Maybe if I had the book here....but it's back home in Virginia. It wasn't easy to figure out how to cast it in the first place. The book is really old, the ink is faded, the writing is really old fashioned, the spelling is different, and it isn't written out like a recipe or anything, you have to put all the pieces together."
"Could you get the book sent out here?"
"Unh-uh! Nobody knows I have it, or that it even existed. It's obviously ancient, if I told anyone where it was hidden they'd want to know where I got it."
"Can't you tell them?"
"No way! My parents should have been in the Gestapo. Everything has to be done their way, by the book-their book--and just so. First I'd be in trouble for taking the book, and second they wouldn't send it too me, because I shouldn't have had it in the first place."
I wanted to argue that this was a serious enough situation that that she needed to be braver about dealing with her parents. But I knew how much my own parents still thought I was a child, and how hard it would be to talk to them about anything like this. Finally I asked "Are you going home at Christmas? Could you bring it back with you"
She nodded, grimly. We stared at each other. It was the first week of November. Two months. Two full cycles and each cycle was stronger than the one before it.
“I’ll help” I stated, not making it a question. “Sara, I’m really glad you told me. But I can help more if you don’t pull away in your dieting phase.”
“It really isn’t dieting, I just have no desire for food, I’m never hungry, it makes me feel gross to eat more than a little bit, and my body just goes nuts, I have to be moving almost all of the time or I feel caged.”
“OK, but, talk with me OK? You always avoid me then.”
“Its just that, well, I feel embarrassed then.”
“By how fat I am?”
“No! I love how you look, all solid and snuggly. I just don’t like how I am then.”
“Well I still like you, no matter what. So no hiding, OK?”
We were used to problem solving together, after all those calculus assignments. We figured out the most filling, lowest calorie food she could eat during her eating phases, and the most calorie rich food that she might be able to choke down during her non-eating phases. We bought her some larger clothes. We found ways for her to stash food in her dorm room to eat when the hunger took her, and we kept talking, helping her fight the strength of the instincts that swept through her.
The next eating phase started on the second of December, and ran through most of the exam period. We studied together, and she ate. And ate and ate and ate. Without classes to distract her, and not wanting her hunger to affect her focus, she ate constantly.
By the end of the two weeks even her larger clothes were too small, and she could wear only sweat pants and T-shirts. She had a sweet double chin, a round belly and full, ripe rear. She was sexy as all hell, but how could I tell her that when she was suffering through all this?
She flew home after five days of hardly eating, but still looking distinctly plump. She said she'd just tell her family it was the freshman 15, and they'd think she was dieting when she didn't eat anything.
She had arranged to fly back to school early, on the 30th. She would be half a day into the hunger by the time she got here, and unable to eat as much as she wanted to while traveling, so I arranged to rent a hotel suite for two days, complete with a kitchenette. Every now and then it was useful to have well off parents.
I was frantic all during the holidays. I hated knowing she would be having a rough time, and not being there to help her through it. My family thought it was due to my nerves, waiting for my marks, since I didn't tell them about Sara. They could tell something was bothering me, so for a mercy they didn't bother me about my weight. Of course, it probably helped that I was too nervous to eat much, and I swam for at least an hour a day just to burn some of my anxiety off.
On the 27th, two couriered letters arrived for me. One was my marks, which I scanned quickly, noting the A in calculus, then let out for my parents.
I opened the second in my bedroom, knowing it had to be from Sara, and I found a photo and a note. The note read "I think I have it figured out! I can't cancel the spell, but I think I can make it permanent, full time, 24/7. The instincts will still be strong, but not as bad or as hard to control, and at least people won't be convinced that I'm nuts.”
My heart fell. Full time control of her body and her appetite. Of course I was happy for her, but I could not deny that I was more attracted to hungry and plump Sara than appetite-less and thin Sara. I wanted to be with her either way, but I’d been hoping that she’d be able to cancel the spell, and would find that my support made dealing with her body and appetite bearable.
I continued reading the note: “I miss you so much! I wanted to send you a picture of me, to remember me by, but someone threw out my grandmother’s Polaroid, so I can’t take a new one. The most recent snap I could find that I can take is with this letter. It is of my extended family, taken at Christmas two years ago--you can hardly recognize me! I wish I had a picture of you. I really miss you Kevin, and I can't wait to see you again in a few short days."
My heart was doing back flips. That wasn't just "I can't wait to meet you and cancel this spell," it was "I miss YOU." She cared for me too! I resolved that when I met her again I would tell her how much I cared for her, appetite or not.
The picture looked like it was three generations: grandparents, their four kids, the kids’ spouses, and a horde of grandkids. To catch the whole bundle the camera had been a fair ways back, so I couldn’t make out as much detail as I wanted. I could see that the family resemblance was strong, and all the grandkids could pretty much have belonged to any of the kids, except that three of the families were thin, and one was fat. If this was a couple of years old, Sara had to be the roly-poly girl half hiding behind her mother, and her cousin June had to be either the stringy one in braces, or possibly the one that looked like an 11 year old or maybe a 14 year old gymnast, given that the rest of the female grandkids were even younger.
I flew back out west on the 29th, first to Detroit then to San Jose. I took a taxi from the airport straight to a grocery store, then to the hotel. If we were going to lock in the spell and finish off her appetite, I wanted to at least enjoy one last good eating session with her, to store away in my memory.
I slept poorly that night, and spent the first half of the 30th pacing the floor, holding the photo of her family picturing her progress across the continent. I thought about going for a swim, but just couldn't bear to leave the room in case she somehow got in early.
Finally, a little after 2pm, I heard a knock on the door.
I dropped the photo, ran to the door, and threw it open. There she was, and somehow we were in each other's arms, hugging fiercely and babbling how much we missed each other. After a bit I finally held her at arms length, relieved to see she didn't look as thin as I'd feared, she almost looked like she still had a little extra meat on her bones. I gave a little mental cheer, figuring that with Christmas Dinner and all she must have forced herself to eat better than she normally did, and hopefully that meant she would be able to continue to find at least a little appetite.
"You must be starved! Want a sandwich?"
"SURE!" She said it with enthusiasm, but not sheer desperation. Knowing what was going on, and that food would available must have made the hunger easier to deal with. I hoped that if she did have it a bit under control, she'd agree not to lock the spell's effect in for a few more days, to at least put a decent amount of weight on her first. She pulled her bags in from the hall, dropped her coat on to them, while I raced to get food out.
After three peanut butter and jam sandwiches I got a bit ahead of her, and took a moment to pick up a bit. I hung up her coat, put her suitcase and travel bag on one of the beds, and picked up the photo on my way back to the kitchenette.
"So, " I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, "When do you want to cast this spell?"
I sat down beside her, almost quivering in anticipation, as she swallowed a huge mouthful of sandwich.
"Oh, I already cast it."
I think my heart stood still for a second. "But, but, I, that is, you're eating!"
"Of course." She shoved the last mouthful of sandwich between her teeth as she gave me a quizzical look.
"I thought you wouldn't ever be interested in food again."
She gave me a really puzzled stare as she chewed and swallowed. "No, gross! That's what I was trying to get rid of." She snatched the picture from my hand and pointed at what I had taken to be the 14 year old gymnast. "That's me two years ago, I was so skinny I didn't even have a regular period. I had no boobs, everyone was always telling me how skinny I was, girls at school started rumors that I was anorexic. I hated it!"
I couldn't think. My mind felt like it was in a million pieces. Sara picked up the next sandwich, took a big bite, and mumbled through it "That's June." Pointing to the fat girl in the red dress. She swallowed, and continued "Everybody is going to be pretty shocked next Christmas, when I'll probably be fatter than she is, since June is always trying to diet, and I won’t be." She threw back a large glass of whole milk. "But if you'll come down with me at least they'll know I have a wonderful boyfriend who'll stand by me no matter what, right?"
"RIGHT!" It felt like my grin stretched from ear to ear.
I pulled out bread to make more sandwiches for both of us, and reflected that you really do meet the most interesting girls at college.
The End
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Spelling Sara
by Tad
by Tad
I admit that when I went away to Stanford for college, one of my highest priorities was meeting girls. I had been considered a little nerdish at my small town high school, and really hadn't had a dating life. I figured that a couple of thousand miles would give me a fresh start.
It wasn't as if I was horrid looking, or didn't wash, or anything. I figured I was pretty average looking, a little taller and a little heavier than your average Joe, but not so much that I'd stand out in a crowd. I was pretty sure that I was a nice guy, and interesting enough once you got to know me, but I'd never been good at the flashy, ‘pay attention to me-not-him’ stuff. So I was pretty sure I was dateable.
Of course, the other challenge was meeting the right woman. I wanted someone smart and ambitious, for starters, which was one reason I'd been delighted to be accepted at Stanford. Beyond smart and ambitious however, well I wasn't too proud about it, but I had always preferred plump girls. Make that "women," not "girls," since by the time you make it to college I guess you qualify as a woman. I was still a little uncomfortable with that term, as wanting to date a woman implied that I was a man, meaning an adult, and I wasn’t sure yet if I really was. I hoped I was, but I really didn’t have much experience in leading my own life.
Actually there was another correction that I need to make too. I’d always said it in my head “I prefer plump girls.” But the truth was more open ended than that. Once I was away from home, I was able to admit to myself that what I really liked was "women who were at least plump." I wasn't sure if there was an upper limit on how fat someone could be for me to still find them attractive, but I knew that if there was nobody in my small town had been beyond it. Not that I’d found all the fattest women attractive, but they’d been women, often mothers of other kids my age, and that was probably part of my issue. I was pretty sure I preferred women my own age.
When I settled in at school I found that my dorm complex was, unfortunately, mostly male. It was, for reasons nobody seemed to know, mostly populated by computer science students, and they were mostly male. Two of the six floors were for women, but eager scanning of the dining hall during the first few days of frosh week did not show any women there were big enough to really catch my eye. I had heard that a lot of girls, oops, women, packed on the pounds during their first year at college, and I was hoping that at least a couple of the pudgier girls I saw would grow into true beauties by the end of the year.
At the end of frosh week I saw one girl that I thought looked promising in that growing way. She was short, barely over five feet, and really cute. I saw her walking into her dorm, licking a double scoop ice cream cone. From my brief glimpse it looked like she had a slight bulge of a tummy, and that her shorts looked pretty tight on her nicely curved backside.
I kept my eyes peeled for her, especially in the cafeteria, but I didn't see her for almost two more weeks. When I did, I couldn't see any signs of a tummy. It looked like her cheeks had hollowed out too. She barely even picked at her Supper, mostly just drinking some tea. I concluded that she must have let herself go during orientation week, and had been dieting ever since.
I, on the other hand, had been doing anything but. I already mentioned that I was a bit heavier than average. I'd become downright fat during grades five and six, but then my parents had put in an indoor pool (not everyone in small towns is poor, and my parents were sufficiently well off to give me all the luxuries, and let me know how appreciative I should be of them). I'd started swimming every morning after that. I never became thin, but I did thin out somewhat, and developed wide enough shoulders to help balance off the width of my middle. With loose clothes on I tended to look almost solid, sort of like a football player or something, but without a top on you could tell that my middle was pudding soft. Truth be told I'd never tried too hard to get thinner than that. Much as I liked plump, or at least plump, girls-I-mean-women, I wanted a certain softness myself.
I’d thinned out enough that my parents had gotten off my case, and some girls had expressed the opinion that I’d look handsome enough if only I’d get my nose out of books and into a hot car, and I’d accepted that as a compromise size. I felt like a bit of an imposter, a secret fatty able to pass for normal. Now that I was away from home, away from my parents, and looking to meet a special woman who'd love me for who I was, not how I looked, I was flirting with revealing my secret inner self.
Well, maybe more than flirting. I was happily eating whatever appealed, when it appealed. There was a lot of complaints about food in the cafeteria, but I happily ate it all, along with late night pizza, snacks from vending machines, and hot chocolate and porridge made in my dorm room with my not-quite-permitted kettle.
A few days after seeing that girl all hollow-cheeked and not eating, I was walking out of the cafeteria serving line with my tray loaded up when I saw her again. You can imagine my surprise and pleasure when I saw that she was putting away a huge Supper, including chocolate milk and two desserts. I wondered if she was a yo-yo dieter, but resolved not to question my good fortune while it lasted.
I kept an eye on her out of the corner of my eye as she devoured her food, and I sighed as she quickly left the cafeteria. I asked around the guys I was sitting with, and someone knew who she was: “Short girl, dark brown hair, heart shaped face, on the second floor? She’s in my algebra class, her name is Sara something. But she’s an odd duck, seems kind of moody and stand-offish.” I finished my meal without really noticing it, rather lost in thought. I looked forward to the next time I saw her, in hopes that I'd get to see her eat like that again. I had never realized how arousing watching someone eat like that could be. On the other hand, if she was moody and stand-offish, maybe it was best to just enjoy watching her from a distance. I concluded that if I could just catch her pigging out like that once or twice a week I'd be pretty happy, even if she dieted the rest of the time and never gained weight.
Later that night I was in our lounge, watching TV, when she walked in, and asked if anybody wanted to work together on the Calculus 102 assignment, and would they be interested in sharing a pizza while they did it. I immediately volunteered for both jobs, mentally doing cartwheels that I had decided to take the more difficult 102 class instead of 101, but cursing my luck that she was obviously in the other section.
We signed out one of the small study rooms off the main cafeteria, and while I looked at the assignment she went out to a payphone to order pizza. She was distracted until it arrived, or should I say "they," since there was two medium pizzas. She explained that there was a two-for-one-plus-a-buck deal, but I carefully noted how much she ate as we worked on the problems. To be precise, she ate seven pieces, one whole medium pizza and one additional piece, over the next couple of hours.
And this was only a few hours after downing a full sized Supper! I was amazed that she could pack that much food into such a small body, amazed and powerfully turned on. Even more exciting was that she was good at calculus! None of the girls in my high school would ever have admitted being good at math, at least not around guys. But Sara, she’d flat out tell me when she thought I was on the wrong path, and then prove it to me. But she was also appreciative when I grasped questions on which she was struggling.
I was seriously smitten. Desperate to keep in touch I suggested making this a regular Sunday night session to work on the calc assignment together. To my absolute joy, she agreed.
During the next week I saw her frequently in the cafeteria, always with a well loaded tray. I also saw her on campus a couple of times, once eating a bagel, once drinking a can of soda. We chatted occasionally at meal time, and the more I got to know her, the better I liked her. I still loved to watch her eat, but frankly I loved to watch her do anything.
The next Sunday we had another pizza and calculus session. This time she "only" downed six pieces of pizza, but I was hardly going to complain. I finished off the other six pieces, but not without some discomfort from my jeans, which were getting a little tight around the waist. The really weird thing was that the pain from my jeans became erotic. The best I can explain it was there we were, both eating like pigs, eating enough that we were bound to gain weight, and there I was, getting ready to pop out of my pants, and somehow it felt like she was encouraging, or at least accepting my weight gain, and that was, well, pretty wild. It was a good thing that the calculus assignment wasn't too hard, because I have to admit that my mind wasn't too focused by the time we finished it.
I knew my eating was affecting me, and I was pretty sure I could see the effects of all that eating on her, too. The next morning confirmed it, as I happened to be behind her in line for breakfast. She was wearing a tight t-shirt, and I could see that her bra was digging into her sides a bit, making little mounds of fat just above and below it, and then when she sat down I could see a small roll of tummy over the top of her jeans. All that week I kept seeing other signs that her eating was having an impact, and I began to speculate how fat she would be by exam time.
The next Sunday, we worked on calculus together again, but she shocked me by saying that she wasn't interested in pizza. I hardly saw her in the cafeteria for the rest of the week, and when I did, she was hardly eating. I tried to get a chance to talk to her, but it never seemed to work out. When she showed up for our calculus session the next Sunday, she was clearly thinner already. When she again said she didn't want pizza, I asked her if she was OK, because she looked kind of drawn. She replied "Sorry, it's a monthly thing." And I shut up, red faced.
She hardly ate all that next week, too, and believe me I was keeping an eye out for that, concerned. Meanwhile, as the weight melted off of her, I had to go shopping for new jeans, since my gut had grown to the point that sitting through a class in my jeans was painful. It felt wrong to be gaining weight when she wasn't however, and I didn't enjoy shopping as much as I could have. I realized that much as I enjoyed eating like this, at this rate I'd balloon far to quickly, and I started cutting back a bit. I still ate heartily, just not quite so excessively.
I resolved to bring up her eating habits again on Sunday, and suggest she go see a doctor, in case she had mono or something. She had thinned out more than I thought possible during two weeks, and I was worried about her--not just because I was disappointed, but because I really did like her and wanted to make sure she was OK.
On Sunday morning, however, I met her in the cafeteria, just after it opened for breakfast. She had her tray loaded with everything she could get, and was devouring it like she hadn't eaten in weeks, which I suppose in a sense she hadn't. When I sat down next to her she was just finishing off the last bites.
We chatted, with me carefully avoiding any mention of eating habits. I noticed the way she kept eyeing my food, but I was hungry enough myself that I didn’t want to give it up. Finally I offered lightly "If you are still hungry, I have some instant oatmeal and an electric kettle in my room, I could make you a mug of porridge." I felt vaguely embarrassed to even be offering, and was sure she would turn me down.
She stared at me without blinking for several seconds. The look in her eye honestly scared me, so unexpectedly feral it was. Finally she said, "That would be great, I'm ravenous." The words were normal enough, but the tone was dead serious, and I got the feeling she could hardly wait for me to finish my breakfast.
We weren't really supposed to have women in our dorm rooms. Nobody cared if one stopped by to drop off some notes or something, but shutting your door with one inside was a real no-no. So was having a kettle, however, so we walked quietly to my room, slipped inside, and shut and locked the door. My roommate went home to Sacramento for the weekends, so we were safe enough. Nervously I went about boiling water and mixing up porridge, as she sat on my bed and silently watched. One by one, she ended up eating four packets of instant oatmeal porridge, before finally saying she was full.
She sat back on my bed, looking flushed and rubbed her stomach. "I shouldn't have eaten so much, so fast," she groaned, "but I was just soooo hungry this morning." The moment was full of tension, and intimacy, and I was trying to think of the perfect thing to say to crystallize those emotions. Then she abruptly announced “I should leave while the hallways are still empty.” She walked out, leaving me feeling deflated.
That evening we both carefully avoided mentioning breakfast. She had pizza already waiting when I got to our study session, however, with half of one pizza already gone. She ate the remaining three pieces of that pizza, and one piece of the other one before the evening was through. We spent more time together over the next couple of weeks, and it seemed whenever I saw her she was eating. By the end of the second week it looked like her jeans were skin tight, her bras were about to explode, and she was developing a second chin. I was having a hard time concentrating at all in her vicinity, between how much her gain was turning me on and how much I was mesmerized by everything else about her. The only thing was, whenever it seemed to me that we about to break through from study buddies to maybe something more, she’d suddenly pull away. Yet the way she looked at me other times suggested to me that she really did like me.
When she suddenly stopped eating again, I was half expecting it, but I didn't let it go by without questioning her. All she would say was "I can't help it." with such an anguished look in her eye that I didn't push the issue any further.
Suddenly I wasn’t seeing her around much, again, and I got the feeling she was avoiding me. I knew her schedule pretty well by then, however, and made sure to bump into her occasionally, keeping a careful eye on her condition. Her body language was really confusing me now, as when she’d see me she’d seem to light up, only to shut down again a couple of seconds later. Again the weight seemed to melt back off of her, although not quite to the point where she got the hollows back in her cheeks.
After two weeks of her fasting, I was woken by a quiet tapping on my door at 5:30am on Sunday morning. When I stumbled to open it up, dressed only in pajama bottoms, there she was, looking desperate. "Kevin, do you have any more porridge, I need some."
She sounded scared and desperate. Before I could get my sleepy brain to do more than worry about how clearly my soft middle was showing and say "yes, but..." she had pushed her way in and was plugging in my kettle. As she poured the dried porridge from its packet into a mug, I could see her hands shake.
Once she had devoured, and I use that word intentionally, three package of porridge, and was reaching for a fourth, I grabbed her wrists. "Sara, what is going on with you? Yesterday I saw you eat about three mouthfuls for Supper, and this morning you're ready to eat until you're in pain. Are you bulimic or something?" It was unusual for me to be so blunt, but it was also well before dawn and I wasn't in any usual state of mind. Still, I was horrified when she threw her arms around my chest and started crying.
I guided us over to my bed, and sat down, trying to get her to sit down as well. Instead she threw herself on the bed, and buried her face in my belly, grinding it into the flab. I was shocked, worried, and aroused. I couldn't help it, it was a natural reaction of some sort, but since I didn't want to poke her in the ear with an erection I scooped her up, and held her in my arms. She was heavy enough for someone so small, but I was given strength by my desperation.
Finally, she calmed down enough to sob out "It's the spell!"
Of course, I had no idea what she was talking about, so I just focused instead on stroking her hair and making comforting sounds until she was only sniffling. "Do you want to tell me all about it?" I asked.
"O-OK, but first could I have some more porridge?"
Eventually she had three more packets of porridge, and then went back to her room to shower and change, and then we caught an early morning bus off campus to buy breakfast, since the cafeteria wasn't open yet. She had the hungry man breakfast, and normally I would have been busy enjoying the sight, but I just asked "What is this about a spell?"
I had a hard time believing the story she launched into. Apparently she had found an ancient book of magic in her great-grandmother's effects when they were going through her stuff after she died. She had taken it, and found a description of a spell to transform yourself. It gave the example of turning into a wolf, but had warned that while in that state although you would retain your mind, the instincts of the wolf would be overwhelming. She hadn't had any interest in becoming part wolf, but had apparently been fighting to control her body and her appetite for years, without much success. She had finally figured out how to modify the spell to take on some of the characteristics of another person, and she had chosen her cousin June.
"The problem is," she finally explained, "I think the spell was for becoming a werewolf, not just a wolf. The change only effects me half the time, changing at the full and new moon. Right after the change over, the new feeling is extra strong, as if to make up for being away for two weeks."
"And it's getting worse." I suggested.
She mutely nodded, swirling the last of her home fries in a puddle of catsup. Finally she looked up and explained "Yeah, at first it wasn't too bad. The first two weeks were great, and then when it went back to normal, it wasn't too bad, I mean, I was used to fighting my appetite, and it wasn't too much worse than normal, and I just thought the spell had worn off. But then it came back on again, and I really went with it, and when it turned off again I began to figure out what was happening. I was able to go with it on the good weeks, and fight it on the bad weeks, and I did manage to really change my body."
"When did you cast this spell?"
"Late May."
"And its been steadily getting harder to control?"
"Yeah." She grimaced, "I thought it was just being at home in the summer with nothing else to do, but now I can really tell its getting stronger and stronger."
"Can you undo the spell?" I asked.
"I don't know how. Maybe if I had the book here....but it's back home in Virginia. It wasn't easy to figure out how to cast it in the first place. The book is really old, the ink is faded, the writing is really old fashioned, the spelling is different, and it isn't written out like a recipe or anything, you have to put all the pieces together."
"Could you get the book sent out here?"
"Unh-uh! Nobody knows I have it, or that it even existed. It's obviously ancient, if I told anyone where it was hidden they'd want to know where I got it."
"Can't you tell them?"
"No way! My parents should have been in the Gestapo. Everything has to be done their way, by the book-their book--and just so. First I'd be in trouble for taking the book, and second they wouldn't send it too me, because I shouldn't have had it in the first place."
I wanted to argue that this was a serious enough situation that that she needed to be braver about dealing with her parents. But I knew how much my own parents still thought I was a child, and how hard it would be to talk to them about anything like this. Finally I asked "Are you going home at Christmas? Could you bring it back with you"
She nodded, grimly. We stared at each other. It was the first week of November. Two months. Two full cycles and each cycle was stronger than the one before it.
“I’ll help” I stated, not making it a question. “Sara, I’m really glad you told me. But I can help more if you don’t pull away in your dieting phase.”
“It really isn’t dieting, I just have no desire for food, I’m never hungry, it makes me feel gross to eat more than a little bit, and my body just goes nuts, I have to be moving almost all of the time or I feel caged.”
“OK, but, talk with me OK? You always avoid me then.”
“Its just that, well, I feel embarrassed then.”
“By how fat I am?”
“No! I love how you look, all solid and snuggly. I just don’t like how I am then.”
“Well I still like you, no matter what. So no hiding, OK?”
We were used to problem solving together, after all those calculus assignments. We figured out the most filling, lowest calorie food she could eat during her eating phases, and the most calorie rich food that she might be able to choke down during her non-eating phases. We bought her some larger clothes. We found ways for her to stash food in her dorm room to eat when the hunger took her, and we kept talking, helping her fight the strength of the instincts that swept through her.
The next eating phase started on the second of December, and ran through most of the exam period. We studied together, and she ate. And ate and ate and ate. Without classes to distract her, and not wanting her hunger to affect her focus, she ate constantly.
By the end of the two weeks even her larger clothes were too small, and she could wear only sweat pants and T-shirts. She had a sweet double chin, a round belly and full, ripe rear. She was sexy as all hell, but how could I tell her that when she was suffering through all this?
She flew home after five days of hardly eating, but still looking distinctly plump. She said she'd just tell her family it was the freshman 15, and they'd think she was dieting when she didn't eat anything.
She had arranged to fly back to school early, on the 30th. She would be half a day into the hunger by the time she got here, and unable to eat as much as she wanted to while traveling, so I arranged to rent a hotel suite for two days, complete with a kitchenette. Every now and then it was useful to have well off parents.
I was frantic all during the holidays. I hated knowing she would be having a rough time, and not being there to help her through it. My family thought it was due to my nerves, waiting for my marks, since I didn't tell them about Sara. They could tell something was bothering me, so for a mercy they didn't bother me about my weight. Of course, it probably helped that I was too nervous to eat much, and I swam for at least an hour a day just to burn some of my anxiety off.
On the 27th, two couriered letters arrived for me. One was my marks, which I scanned quickly, noting the A in calculus, then let out for my parents.
I opened the second in my bedroom, knowing it had to be from Sara, and I found a photo and a note. The note read "I think I have it figured out! I can't cancel the spell, but I think I can make it permanent, full time, 24/7. The instincts will still be strong, but not as bad or as hard to control, and at least people won't be convinced that I'm nuts.”
My heart fell. Full time control of her body and her appetite. Of course I was happy for her, but I could not deny that I was more attracted to hungry and plump Sara than appetite-less and thin Sara. I wanted to be with her either way, but I’d been hoping that she’d be able to cancel the spell, and would find that my support made dealing with her body and appetite bearable.
I continued reading the note: “I miss you so much! I wanted to send you a picture of me, to remember me by, but someone threw out my grandmother’s Polaroid, so I can’t take a new one. The most recent snap I could find that I can take is with this letter. It is of my extended family, taken at Christmas two years ago--you can hardly recognize me! I wish I had a picture of you. I really miss you Kevin, and I can't wait to see you again in a few short days."
My heart was doing back flips. That wasn't just "I can't wait to meet you and cancel this spell," it was "I miss YOU." She cared for me too! I resolved that when I met her again I would tell her how much I cared for her, appetite or not.
The picture looked like it was three generations: grandparents, their four kids, the kids’ spouses, and a horde of grandkids. To catch the whole bundle the camera had been a fair ways back, so I couldn’t make out as much detail as I wanted. I could see that the family resemblance was strong, and all the grandkids could pretty much have belonged to any of the kids, except that three of the families were thin, and one was fat. If this was a couple of years old, Sara had to be the roly-poly girl half hiding behind her mother, and her cousin June had to be either the stringy one in braces, or possibly the one that looked like an 11 year old or maybe a 14 year old gymnast, given that the rest of the female grandkids were even younger.
I flew back out west on the 29th, first to Detroit then to San Jose. I took a taxi from the airport straight to a grocery store, then to the hotel. If we were going to lock in the spell and finish off her appetite, I wanted to at least enjoy one last good eating session with her, to store away in my memory.
I slept poorly that night, and spent the first half of the 30th pacing the floor, holding the photo of her family picturing her progress across the continent. I thought about going for a swim, but just couldn't bear to leave the room in case she somehow got in early.
Finally, a little after 2pm, I heard a knock on the door.
I dropped the photo, ran to the door, and threw it open. There she was, and somehow we were in each other's arms, hugging fiercely and babbling how much we missed each other. After a bit I finally held her at arms length, relieved to see she didn't look as thin as I'd feared, she almost looked like she still had a little extra meat on her bones. I gave a little mental cheer, figuring that with Christmas Dinner and all she must have forced herself to eat better than she normally did, and hopefully that meant she would be able to continue to find at least a little appetite.
"You must be starved! Want a sandwich?"
"SURE!" She said it with enthusiasm, but not sheer desperation. Knowing what was going on, and that food would available must have made the hunger easier to deal with. I hoped that if she did have it a bit under control, she'd agree not to lock the spell's effect in for a few more days, to at least put a decent amount of weight on her first. She pulled her bags in from the hall, dropped her coat on to them, while I raced to get food out.
After three peanut butter and jam sandwiches I got a bit ahead of her, and took a moment to pick up a bit. I hung up her coat, put her suitcase and travel bag on one of the beds, and picked up the photo on my way back to the kitchenette.
"So, " I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, "When do you want to cast this spell?"
I sat down beside her, almost quivering in anticipation, as she swallowed a huge mouthful of sandwich.
"Oh, I already cast it."
I think my heart stood still for a second. "But, but, I, that is, you're eating!"
"Of course." She shoved the last mouthful of sandwich between her teeth as she gave me a quizzical look.
"I thought you wouldn't ever be interested in food again."
She gave me a really puzzled stare as she chewed and swallowed. "No, gross! That's what I was trying to get rid of." She snatched the picture from my hand and pointed at what I had taken to be the 14 year old gymnast. "That's me two years ago, I was so skinny I didn't even have a regular period. I had no boobs, everyone was always telling me how skinny I was, girls at school started rumors that I was anorexic. I hated it!"
I couldn't think. My mind felt like it was in a million pieces. Sara picked up the next sandwich, took a big bite, and mumbled through it "That's June." Pointing to the fat girl in the red dress. She swallowed, and continued "Everybody is going to be pretty shocked next Christmas, when I'll probably be fatter than she is, since June is always trying to diet, and I won’t be." She threw back a large glass of whole milk. "But if you'll come down with me at least they'll know I have a wonderful boyfriend who'll stand by me no matter what, right?"
"RIGHT!" It felt like my grin stretched from ear to ear.
I pulled out bread to make more sandwiches for both of us, and reflected that you really do meet the most interesting girls at college.
The End
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