Hi! 1) I love all your stories 2) I'm super happy to see that your asks are open because I've been thinking of a scenario lately
Someone who likes gaining but promised themselves they'd only gain a few pounds, just to try it out, see how they like it. Turns out they love it even more than they anticipated.
But as fun as rapid gaining is, it's starting to scare them how quickly the weight is piling on when they hit 100lbs gained after just a year. They promise themselves to slow down a bit now, but they no longer seem to be able to control their hunger.
If anything their gain speeds up.
Itchy, red stretch marks cover their ever larger belly. And if they weren't already in enough trouble, their mobility is starting to take a nose dive.
At first they'd just get out of breath a bit easier and maybe they'd find their legs were a bit stiff after a day lots of walking. The distances that would happen at got shorter and shorter. Within a scarily short time going up just one flight of stairs left them panting. Then needing to take a break just half-way up.
Other things got more difficult too. Finding clothes that fit, replacing furniture that didn't stand a chance against their increasing weight. 'The couch was ten years old,' they tell themselves, 'the frame had to crack eventually.'
Embarrassingly even masturbating has gotten harder. Not only has their belly grown so much as to cover their thighs, no there's also a thick fat pad, that's buried the very parts they're trying to reach.
And worst of all? It turns them on more and more with every passing day.
Love’s not really love unless it scares you a little, right? That’s been my experience in relationships, anyway. And the same goes for hobbies too. I love food. And… I even love getting fatter. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t getting a little scary.
I’m probably being silly, though. There’s no reason to be scared just because you’re the fattest person in your friend group, right? Even if it’s by a lot? No reason to be worried that you’ve outgrown all your clothes, twice over now. In about a year. It’s really common to not be able to exercise like you used to, too — nothing to be worried about. Even when you can’t make it upstairs all in one go. Or to the fridge and back without breathing heavily. Everyone’s broken a chair or a couch sometime, right? Isn’t that a silly thing to be concerned about?
It’d be different if I were one of those really fat people — then I’d need to be worried. If I had such a big belly I couldn’t reach the bottom of it. But I still can, if I bend this way and reach… see? Even if there is more fat in the way than there used to be. Or if I needed something to help me carry my weight around. But I don’t; and I’ve only fallen and needed help getting up once or twice. When I look at those really overweight people now, though… they don’t seem to look that much bigger anymore for some reason.
But I’m sure my gains will level off before I get that size. Won’t they? What am I saying, of course they will. Even if I can’t get over how afraid I am they won’t stop.
…or how much I love what I’m afraid of.