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Since the Dimensions Weight Gain Stories site has gone away to be replaced by forums only, I've made it a personal mission to rescue some of the ones I feel are special and shouldn't be forgotten. They are not my stories, and I've included attribution where possible. Enjoy!

Fattest Girl in the World, Part 2
by Click

What followed was the first great erotic experience of my life, and if I could just relive this weekend over and over I don't think I would ever have to ask for more. Sex is great!... but then you've probably heard that before, right? But do you know what felt even better? Knowing that Roger felt I was so beautiful, and that I turned him on so very much! It was like I had this power over him, that he was just right there in my hand. Well, he was 'right there in my hand', several times.... but that's not quite what I meant!

And all that food? Oof! It's a good thing I had been stuffing this belly for months, because without all that practice I would never have made it. It was wonderful. I would eat, and he would feed me, and that would turn me on... and he would feed me more and that would turn him on... and that made me want to eat more, and so on, and so on. Hey, let me tell you what happened the next day!

I had been munching all day Saturday, and I have to say I was packed with food. For supper, we decided to run into the town nearby; I remembered seeing a pizza place. We each ordered a large pizza, but Roger only ate a couple of slices, so you know where it all ended up, don't you? I'm sure he did that on purpose! Plus more than a pitcher of soda. (Burp!) And there was a little bakery next door, and we bought a birthday cake someone named Steffie hadn't picked up; maybe her folks forgot what day her birthday was? Anyway, back at the cabin, we popped in a movie, and I was all ready for my cake.... and then Roger noticed a pie sitting out... Last night it was frozen too hard to eat, and I remembered setting it out to defrost, but I had forgotten all about it. I finished it off during the movie, and boy, was I stuffed! But then what to do about the cake?

"I have to at least try to eat part of it," I told Roger. "It's just sitting there, taunting me.

"That's right... you can't take that from a cake. Here, let me get it for you."

"Roger? I'm really stuffed... promise you won't be disappointed if I can't hold very much?"

"Of course not. You don't have to eat any if you don't want to."

"Want to? Of course I want to!... I'm just not sure if I can."

He set the cake on the coffee table, but instead of bringing me a fork, he gently pushes me back, adjusting me until I am totally reclined. Then he kneels down beside me and the crazy romantic boy scoops up a corner of the cake with his fingers and puts it in my mouth.

"Mmmmm" I ate, licking the icing off his fingers. It was so sweet, so rich! He scooped up another bite. With his other hand, he caressed my stuffed belly.

"These jeans are awfully tight."

"Too tight", I agreed. He took the hint, unzipping my jeans while I nibbled his fingers, then took the initiative by plunging his hand under my shirt and opening the front clasp of my bra. I leaned back and closed my eyes and let Roger feed me, kneading my belly and kissing my breasts, my neck....This seemed to last forever. Gently Roger fed me bite after bite, and I gently sucked his fingertips and licked off every sweet creamy bit. Oh! I was full, I was overfull, almost painfully so, but that wasn't how I thought of it. Steffie, whoever she was, was missing a great cake, but I think you would have to eat it the way I did to fully appreciate it.

After a time I realized it had been a long time since the last bite of cake. "More?"

"No more, greedy girl; it's all gone"

"Gone? It can't be." I opened my eyes and saw the plate, empty. Somehow I had eaten it all. At that moment I realized how full I really was, how close I was to being sick, and just how much such a loss of control turned me on even more.

"Oh!.....Roger, could you help me up, please?" He did, and I felt queasy. "Oh, dear... what did I do?"

"Deborah? Are you okay? Do you feel sick?"

"No. Yes. Oh.... I feel like I may explode... but I am SO turned on! Take my hand; you can walk me into the bed room. Slower, slower....Oh, my! I'm so stuffed! And now, you can carefully, every so gently, make love to me."

Back home the next week, everything was back to normal, if you can possibly apply that word to my life. Going to school, hanging out, eating enough for five people, that sort of stuff. I was home alone after school when the doorbell rang. I opened up; it was a Barbi. That was odd; Dad usually told me when he was expecting company. Oh, well; I resolved to be nice. Maybe I'm mellowing out. Maybe it was hearing Dad say he wasn't serious about any of these girls... thank heavens.

"Hi! You must be here for Dad; he's not home yet."

"Oh... He said me he was on his way home; I thought he would be here by now."

"Maybe in a little while; won't you come in?" She stepped inside and I checked her out. Without question a Barbi. Okay, this one was in plain old non-designer jeans, I'll admit, but she had the figure, the face, everything: they are all alike. Once I told Dad there was a big factory in Yugoslavia where they stamp them out by the thousands, all the same with just slight variations in hair and complexion. This one was a brunette; that was a change, and her hair looked like she had spent less than an hour on it... I wondered what happened.

"I'm Deborah," I introduced myself as we sat down. "Call me Deb."

"Hello Deb; I'm Jeri."

"J-E-R-I ?" I was trying to be nice, but I just couldn't help myself. Fortunately most of the Barbi don't recognize things like that as an insult.

She laughed. "Maybe if I were a topless dancer. It's G-E-R-R-Y. For some ungodly reason my mother thought Geraldine was a very nice name." She stood up and looked in the curio cabinets. If she was taking inventory she was out of luck; this one held Dad's fossils: I thought they were the most valuable thing in the room, but not in terms of money.

"Hey, an archaeopteryx!" She stared into the case, excited, then she frowned. "It has to be a copy. I hope it's a copy."

"Since there are only a half dozen or so in the world, yes." Was it a dinosaur, or the very first bird? Who knew? The interesting thing here was that she recognized it. She paced restlessly, wandering over to the door to Dad's studio.

"Do you play?" She had spotted Dad's guitar.

"I play piano. That's Dad's."

"Ooh... Beautiful instrument."

"Dad says it's just a box with strings."

"Yes, but this is a nice box with strings." To my surprise she reached for it, then paused. "Would he mind?" I shrugged. I mean, it's a box with strings; the music is inside the player.

She began to play. With a start I realized I knew the song; it was one Dad had written. Then I saw she was reading the manuscript Dad had left on the music stand. It sounded flawless; not the way Dad played it, but very nice indeed.

"Could you sing along? I want to hear how it sounds with the words."

It has words? "Uh, sure." I began to sing along, fitting unfamiliar words to a tune I had heard a hundred times. It was a love song to Mom. I had to blink back the tears, but I wasn't going to cry in front of this woman.

"That was beautiful." It was, too. All I could do was nod, and of course she noticed.

"I'm sorry, Deb. I really shouldn't be here, stirring though your father's things. Please forgive me." Gerry looked at me pleadingly... she was really sorry. "I should really leave now. I'll see your father later. Uh... I'll call." She put the guitar back on its stand and stood to leave.

"What I really need is to get a bite to eat," she said, half to herself. "I was busy and didn't have lunch."

"No!" I couldn't let her leave like this. I mean, I haven't always welcomed Dad's dates but I couldn't let her run off because I started sobbing like that. "Let me get you something." Without giving her a chance to protest, I almost dragged her to the kitchen. "Come on... I could use something too."

"Okay, I guess... if you are sure it's okay. What do you have?"

"Uh...." What did we have? All my fattening junk food, that's what; hardly the kind of stuff even a really superior Barbi would eat. There must have been just a touch of resentment left over from all the other Barbi's, because I said "Ice cream?"

"Sure!"

I put the ice cream on the table, then set out bowls. A dipper. The cook had moved the spoons; where were they? As I was looking, she filled the bowls. Nice big portions. Not big for me, of course, not like my personal bowl that holds an entire carton, but a lot more than I ever expected a Barbi to eat. When I saw the bowls held almost exactly the same amount, I felt a jab of guilt: I realized I was all primed to see an insult in whatever she did. If she gave me more, I would think 'I'm fat, so I must eat more than anyone else, right', and if less, 'I'm fat, so you think I shouldn't have so much?' That wasn't fair, even toward a Barbi.

"Hey, Chocolate almond caramel fudge toffee! This is great! I'll have to remember this!"

"Uh... it has like a million calories." I know it did... that's why I ate it... plus it's really good.

"So?" She dug in eagerly, finishing before I did. "I just eat whatever I feel like, and don't worry about stuff like that. Believe me, you'll be a lot happier if you can let go of all that." This was unreal!

"Want some more?" Okay, I was testing her, just to see if she was putting me on.

"Sure!" I filled her bowl again, then got some more for myself.

"Uh, Gerry...If you eat like this...."

"Then why am I not fatter than.... " She grinned "... than you?" Gee.... a few months ago, Dad had almost thrown a Barbi out of the house for a comment like that, but this... this was just a question, not an insult.

"Yeah. Why not?"

"I have this weird metabolism; I'm really hyper, I'm always hungry, and I eat like this and never gain. Guys complain I make them fat, because they always eat whatever I'm eating. But the worst part is when women say I have to a closet bulimic or something to eat like this and stay skinny." She shrugged. "But who cares what other people think?"

"A lot of women would say you were really lucky."

"That's exactly what it is.... luck. I guess I just chose my parents correctly; that is, if you think being thin is important." She picked up the dishes and started to rinse them out in the sink. Suddenly remembering my role as hostess, I rushed to finish the job. "I also inherited a bad back, but strong teeth. That's just the way I am. Why can't people realize this is just the way a person looks; it's not who we are. I would much rather someone told me they liked one of my designs, or the way I played guitar..."

Just then the phone rang; it was Dad.

"Hi, O father O'mine. Your date is here early; she's wondering where you are."

"Date? I don't have a date tonight. " At the same time I heard Gerry echo "Date?"

"I was just calling to tell you to be on the lookout for a package; One of the engineers we're meeting tomorrow is going to drop it off this afternoon. What's this about a date?"

"Never mind... just get home as quickly as you can, okay? We have company for supper."

"Date?" Gerry repeated. "I'm going to be working with your father on the Ecuador project; I have some papers and a set of samples to show him, that's all."

"Fine. He'll be here in just a few minutes. Uh... would you join us for supper? You have to say yes."

"Are you sure? I really didn't plan on...."

"No, no... I insist. Please stay!" Please!

We had a wonderful supper, and we talked, and then I excused myself. It was time for bed. Well, I went to bed; I don't know what Dad and Gerry did. I know they talked a long time. That might have been engineering, but then I heard them playing music and singing, but not Mom's song, either. Then I fell asleep and I don't know what happened after that. When I got up Gerry was gone, but she and Dad were planning on going out Friday. Yay!

*5

"I wonder how we could work lard into your diet."

"Say what?!"

"Lard." That was Angela; she had taken to suggesting foods she thought I should try, or ways to make the foods I liked more fattening. Most of her suggestions had to do with butter, sour cream, sugar, and all sorts of fried foods. Fortunately I love that sort of stuff already. Hey, I've had my mouth set for chips and dip, but we were out of chips so I ate a pint of sour cream dip right out the bowl! Some of the stuff she suggests is pretty gross, though... I had put my foot down at the thought of eating straight fatback; that's just slabs of pork fat. Yuck! I told her it wouldn't make me gain because I wouldn't be able to force it down. She could see that I would eat a lot more of foods I liked, so she dropped it... at least until she thought of something else. Now it was lard.

"Yuck. Again." I glanced her way. "Hey, what's that you're reading?"

"Nothing." She shoved the book in her backpack, but hey, I may be out of shape, but my eyes and my brain are as fast as ever.

:"Eat Smart for a Healthy Heart? Don't tell me they suggest lard!"

"Uh..." Suddenly everything clicked. How she was so into me getting fat; how she kept pushing me into eating all this fatty stuff, how she never wanted me to get any exercise...I felt a chill.

"Angela, you are getting off on me gaining weight, I know...and it's because I'm doing something so ... well, something everyone else would say is just wrong."

"Deb..."

"What is it you are into? Not just the fat itself. And I know you are not really gay. Is it the way people react when they see me, the comments they have to be making? Or is it the whole health thing? Are you looking for things that are even more unhealthy?"

"No! ... yes... Oh, Deb, I'm sorry!" I just stared at her. I couldn't believe this... I thought she was my friend.

"It's.... it's sort of all of those." She sniffed... the girl was crying! "It's like you are breaking all the rules. You know, the rules everyone else lives by! What you have to look like, how everyone is supposed to be in shape, and how everyone worries about the right foods. Most people at least try to live that way, and some people break some of the rules, but they know it's wrong and wish they could live better. And then there are people who really worry about it and try to follow all those rules; that's me... I'm almost as bad as Brad! And then... there's you!"

"You are the only person I know who's really free... You're... you're just a total hedonist, and you know it! You just live for the pure pleasure of what you are doing, and you don't pay any attention to the consequences, do you? And me? I just push you further and further, to see how far out on a limb you'll go! And do you know what? You've never told me 'no'because of health ,or popularity, or appearance, or anything... the only time you've said no was because something didn't taste good!"

Okay, all that was true... I felt the same way! Well, except that I didn't just ignore the risks, or pretend they didn't exist; I accepted them, then went ahead and did what I wanted anyway. "It's okay, Angela... That doesn't make you a bad person."

I thought that would make her feel better, but she cried harder, and hid her face in her hands, saying "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"What is it?"

"That's not all.... I... I... a couple of years ago, I realized I was really turned on seeing people do things that are self destructive. I can't help it... I just get off on seeing people do things that ... damage themselves. Like ... When Brad had trouble with the coach, I tried to talk him into quitting football... and one time I tried to seduce Roger just so I could mess up his grades." She was crying! "And you guys are my best friends! E" She was crying more, and stopped to blow her nose.

"And especially you. Even before, I was always so happy to see you eat so much... and it looked like you didn't even notice how fat you were getting. I would drop little suggestions, and you always went along; I would stop for a candy bar and you'd get one too. Then I would take one tiny bite and you would end up eating them both." Jeez! No wonder I gained so much weight last year, even without trying!

"And since you came up with this idea, it's been all I could think about. And every time I try to get you to eat just a little more or be just a little more lazy, I feel so guilty!" She shook her head. "You have to believe me: I don't want you to be sick, be uncomfortable, or for anything to .... happen to you. But then I see the way you treat yourself... and I get so excited! I think about it all the time. And then I feel I must be an evil person to do this to someone I really ... love. Yes! Deb, you are the best friend I have ever had... and now you know what kind of friend I've been. You must hate me."

She had stopped sobbing, but she wasn't happy; she sat silently, waiting me to react. I sat silent too, thinking. "I don't hate you," I said slowly. "And you're not evil." She looked at me, unsure but hopeful.

"Last night, for a late night snack I had an all-meat pizza with extra cheese. You didn't order it; I did. And those candy bars.... you didn't hold my nose and cram them into my mouth. And you certainly haven't tied me to the sofa so I couldn't exercise! Everything I've done has been exactly what I wanted. You said I was free, remember? Well that means you haven't made me gain one ounce for the last year. It was me, all me."

"But what about the way I treated Roger? And Brad?"

I laughed. "You already told me you failed with both of them! Angela, you don't want to hurt anyone. You just enjoy watching the way we are already living our lives." I paused. "In fact, it seemed like a couple of times you were thinking of joining me."

Angela sighed. "That would be so easy, Deb; I keep fighting it. I have to fight like crazy to keep from falling."

"Let go... it's fun!"

"I'm afraid. It's not just my weight; it's everything. For the past couple of years I've been on a tightrope; one push in any direction and I'll fall. Gain a couple of pounds and I'll look like you... or lose too much and be anorexic. Let my grades drop a few points and I'll flunk everything. It's awful... I feel like I have to stay perfect, just be absolutely balanced, or I'll just say "What's the use... I've already blown everything... I might as well give up." Go too far with a guy and I'll be a total slut... that's what was happening when I thought I was pregnant. You ... you pulled me back." She grabbed my hand. "Thank you! That's why I felt so bad about what I am doing to you." She ventured a tiny smile.

"You're weird, Angela." She looked so hurt I almost laughed, which would have hurt her even more.

"And Roger is weird, and so is Brad. And I have to be the strangest of all! Normal people are so boring!" Then I did laugh, and she did too, a little.

"You really don't mind?"

"You're not ramming the food down my throat, Angela. Anyway, I think I might be able to pull this off without totally ruining my life." I explained it to her the way I did to Dad, and how he planned to help and keep an eye on me. "Sorry if this ruins the thrill for you."

For the first time, she gave a real smile. "Are you kidding? It's like someone dancing on the edge of a cliff, and she keeps telling herself she won't fall like everyone else, and she keeps getting closer... and closer... self delusion is so cool." Her eyes were bright, but then she stopped and got really serious again. "I hope you're right, Deb. Really."

I nodded. "Me too. I think we'll find out together." She nodded.

"It's hard not to get excited."

"I know, believe me. Oh, and Angela...about Roger?"

"He wouldn't at me look twice, and now I know why... he had already fallen for you... and this was months before you started gaining!"

*6

As time went on, I ate more and more, and passed 400 pounds. Dad and Gerry were seeing a lot of each other; not only were they dating, they were playing gigs around town. Dad was also spending a lot of time in Ecuador on his latest project, and I knew they often went there together. Things had settled down into a very comfortable groove.

Right now I was doing one of my favorite things: eating. What made this even more fun was being fed; Yum! I was stretched back on the big sofa in my new living room; Roger was sitting on my right, feeding me cake... a whole cake, if you are interested; though he wasn't using his fingers. Instead, this time Angela was on my other side with carton of Double Chocolate ice cream. They were alternating spoonfuls, and I was laying back, proud to be the center of attention... as always, lately. I was getting awfully full, though. As we talked and I ate, I decided to pass along news of someone I met a few weeks ago on the net. "Let me tell you guys about Lucinda Hanforth."

"Who?"

"She's kind of a celebrity on the fat chat channels, at least the ones that really talk about gaining. She talks about eating just unreal amounts of food: two large pizzas, or ten hamburgers... She told me she had once eaten three pounds of chocolate in one sitting, and another time she had ..." Then I realized Angela and Roger were staring at me. "Okay, I know I eat like that now, too... but when I first met her I was just amazed! I mean, everyone thought she was a fake until she posted some pictures, and she weighed like 850 pounds.

"Whoa!" whispered Angela.

"She weighs eight hundred and fifty pounds?" asked Roger.

"No... Her pictures showed her at that size; that was a couple of years ago. She said she's met a guy who feeds her, and she's gained a lot since then."

"Your competition has a big lead," Angela noted. "How much does she weigh now?"

"No way to tell; she says she can't walk, and anyway she doesn't know of a scale that can hold her."

"...can't walk..." breathed Angela.

"She planning to get married, and she's worried about how she's going to move into her new house."

".... can't walk..." Angela repeated. The girl is strange.... I told her so myself. I let another bite of ice cream slide down my throat, and my stomach's complains became a little harder to ignore.

"Guys, I don't think I'm going to be able to finish this. "

"Aw..." said Roger, sensing my disappointment.

"Come on; you can do it!"

"No way... I'm stuffed."

"This isn't that much for you," puzzled Angela.

"No, but I kinda had another cake and a big tub of potato salad before you guys got here."

Roger just nodded, but of course Angel asked "Just a little more?"

"I'll try, " I agreed. "But you guys have to massage my belly."

Well, they were glad to do that, of course, although they both wanted to massage my lower belly, where my new fat was piling up in a big round hanging ball. Actually the stomach is located much higher, right below the rib cage... but I didn't really care, and I could tell they didn't either. They kept feeding me, and I somehow managed to eat every bite, like always! It's funny how that happens!

"Congratulations," said Roger.

"Yeah."

"Just keep massaging. I have to be ready for dinnertime." While they continued rubbing my soft fat, Angela reached over my belly to the empty cake tray and scrape up a tiny bit of icing.

"What are you doing?" I asked. She licked the icing off her finger and laughed.

"I love to watch you eat like this, and then I'll taste a tiny, tiny bit, just to show myself what I'm missing. I guess I just like to torture myself."

Hmmm. I really don't know if she's joking, or dead serious. Like I said, the girl is strange.

Sorry I haven't written anything in the past year, I guess I've just been to busy eating! Actually, life was pretty uneventful, with nothing interesting to talk about.

Anyway, it was the week after graduation, and like everyone else our little gang had decided to head for the beach to cut loose! Sun, fun, parties... all sorts of cool stuff! So what does every girl need when she heads off to the beach? A bikini! I already had a couple of suits for our pool at home, but none of them fit anymore; I had put on a few pounds since last summer, like maybe eighty. Besides, I wanted something special.

Actually, any suit that fit me would have to be special! I had reached 527 pounds of incredibly soft fat, and I was amazed at how large I had become. I was incredibly proud of my body I had created; after all, I had deliberately built this figure pound by delicious pound. I needed just the perfect suit to show it off, so I ordered a dozen; yeah, I know... being rich isn't really that important, but it comes in handy sometimes! I bought over the Net, of course; where else can you find clothes for a hot young babe my size?

At first I was still disappointed; even though I ordered the skimpiest suits I could find, they still contained enough cloth to make Angela a wedding dress! I wanted something like her thong bikini: two little triangles up top barely enough to cover her nipples, and another slightly larger triangle; just enough to keep her out of jail. I even tried taking a normal sized suit (one of Angela's. actually) and lengthening the ties, but it didn't work at all. First of all, I guess all the fat stretched the skin of my nipples, just like everywhere else; they are just too big to hide! I checked; my nipples are twice the diameter of Angela's; the little sticking-out actual nipple part is about the same size, but the darker circle is much larger. (Yes, we compared... and yes, Angela had a blast. I had fun too, but I would rather have Roger check them out. Oh yeah... my nipples are bigger than his, too!) I suppose I could have had a suit made with the top just a little bigger... but there was another problem. Just walking sends my breasts bouncing all around, and no matter how I tied the top they would bounce out after just a few steps. Like I said, I'm proud of this body and I want to show it off, but that's going just a little too far! I draw the line at public exhibitions.... private showings might be possible by special arrangement, if your name is Roger.

So okay, I had problems with the top... but the bottom was just as bad! My belly hung down so far it made a pretty effective fig leaf, so you couldn't even see the front of the suit! The entire bottom of the suit looked like two strings coming out from below my belly fold and leading around into my butt; everything else was hidden by my fat! I knew if I wore a suit like that I would be in trouble with the law. I had a few minutes of fun imagining myself explaining the problem to a (young, cute) policeman: "If you'll just lift up my belly, officer, you'll see I really do have a suit on...", then I decided to settle for one of the suits I had ordered.

Once I gave up on putting a micro-bikini on my maxi body, I realized the other suits were still pretty great; I was showing more skin than any other two women. Finally I had it narrowed down to three, and I took a good long look at myself in the mirror. WOW! My belly was like this huge round ball of fat, hanging more than halfway to my knees. My legs were enormous, with big rolls of fat at mid thigh; my knees were marked by more hanging fat rolls, plus a jumble of folds and dimples. My ankles were just a fold running all the way around my leg. My upper arms were like pillows, with big folds at the elbow; and my breasts were huge soft masses of fat spread wide apart, hanging down to either side of my chest. My back had these nice rolls of jiggly fat, and of course my butt was like two basketballs, only softer and larger. I walked across the room a couple of times, just to watch myself jiggle and slosh. I could have looked at myself all day, but after a few minutes all the exertion and standing had me completely worn out; I'm afraid I'd gotten really out of shape those last few months. It was time to eat, anyway. Somehow it's always time to eat.

Boy! Did I ever attract attention when I hit the beach! We had a room right at the water's edge; anywhere else would have been too far for me. The first time I waddled out onto the sand I had everyone within half a mile staring at me... or at least that's what it felt like. Yes, there were people who whispered and giggled (usually girls) and even a few who looked away, but there were some who took a good long look At first I noticed a few girls, ranging from chunky up to pretty fat (almost half my size), the type who wear navy blue suits with those little skirts. They would nod and bite their lip, and I knew they were thinking "If she can do it...".

And all the guys were staring at Angela, every male from puberty to geezerhood. That happens all the time; we are all used to it. This time, though, we noticed there were just a few guys who were looking at me the same way! I told Roger to watch and point them out. When he did, I made sure I gave them a big fat Deb smile. Some of them looked away quick, but some grinned right back, and I knew if Roger hadn't been along on the trip I probably wouldn't have been lonely for long.

Food? Well, every restaurant was a seafood buffet and all the food was fried; sometimes I would spend an hour just sitting there eating; Roger and Angela would fix me plate after plate; that was their job; my job was to eat! I have to say we all did an outstanding job!

Parties? I wore dresses so short I had to worry about my belly hanging down below the hem. I did all slow dances naturally, with Roger squeezed tight, my soft fat molded to fit ever plane and angle of his much leaner body. Some nights, though, I would do at least one fast dance, just so he could see how I bounced.

And at night? Well, needless to say we booked two rooms! Angela stayed next door... and she didn't sit home alone. She would go out... or rather stay out, after Roger and I returned to our room. In the middle of the night we could hear talking and music, so I guess she found something to do. We found something to do, too, and it was great!

It was the middle of the summer; Roger and Angela were getting ready for college and I was realizing how lonely I would be with them gone. I would miss going to college, too... I really liked school. Then Angela came over with some fateful news.

Hey, Deb, have you checked out Lucinda Hanforth's new web site?"

"What site?"

"You haven't seen it? Come on!"

We gathered around the computer and logged on. In a moment the page title appeared:

Lucinda Hanforth

The World's Heaviest Woman!

1386 Lbs!"

As seen in Guiness!

There she was; and she was immense! Okay, I'm huge, but she was totally out of my class. It was a vanity site, of course; so there were lots of pictures. I opened thumbnails in dismay: here was Lucinda sitting on the edge of her bed, her hips spreading wider than her hands could reach. Lucinda, sprawled with her huge belly lying on the bed between her legs, completely filling the area down to her ankles. I remember Lucinda was short, only 5' 1" or so, but still! Here was another shot of her sitting, with her belly hanging down between her legs. It was resting on the floor! Her belly hung all the way to the floor!"

"This is.... incredible. How could she be that big? How could her belly stretch that far?"

"Hmmm?" Angela looked over my shoulder. "Oh... have you seen her standing?"

I opened another picture and there she was... She was holding onto the bedpost for balance, and it was clear she could never walk; even standing her belly reached the floor. "Read the comment," Angela prompted.

"One day I began to notice that when I walked, my belly would brush the floor as it bounced and jiggled, and this seemed an erotic milestone. At this point I knew I had to gain enough to make my belly lie firmly on the floor."

Another comment said "How We Took These Pictures". A click lead to this text: 'It took six of us to get a picture of me standing. My husband with the camera, me of course, and four more men to help pull me up and into position. It's been almost two years since I stood up, so I have no muscle left... and I'm so much heavier now too. I was so scared of falling... but I'm so proud of this belly I had to show it off like this for Guiness.'

I clicked blindly, opening a picture of Lucinda on hands and knees, her huge belly and breasts spreading wide, squeezed out to the sides.

Then I found this:

"I know that what I have done seems crazy, even dangerous. It is both... but I have no plans to stop. I will continue to gain, as much as possible, no matter what the consequences. I'm not going to stop gaining, ever. This is the smallest I will ever be. Some may say this is insane, and I can't argue; all I can say is that this feels right to me. Don't blame my husband; he didn't make me do this, in fact he advised against it and refused to help. It was only after much pleading he agreed." I am sorry I have been out of touch with so many of my friends online, but I have been waiting for official news: Last week we heard from the Guiness; I will be in next year's edition as the World's Heaviest Woman, with two photos. And if you think this is fat, just wait 'till next year!"

"How did she do that? How did she get so fat?"

"Read on. Click there."

Finally I found the right page. The guy she had married was a doctor . He gave her insulin so her cells would absorb sugar faster, gave her some sort of diet supplement so she could digest fats more efficiently.... even did something to her thyroid to lower her metabolism; everything she ate turned straight to fat. Did I say ate? Along with her huge meals she took an intravenous drip, pumping glucose directly into her bloodstream. She recorded her husbands futile protests: "He can't help it... He's a doctor, but he's a feeder too, and he's totally turned on by my gain. He will refuse to help and tell me how crazy this is, but then I go to work. I know I excite him so much he will always give in and give me the help I need."

It had certainly worked! Where I had gained 225 pounds in two years, she had put on almost 450 in two and a half! I dimly remember the Guiness record for gaining was something like 350 in one year, so I guess it's theoretically possible.

I looked at everything on the site; Angela had already seen it. Finally I turned away. "I can't do this."

"What?"

"Any of this. I can't compete with Lucinda... the stuff she's doing is crazy. I'm not going to take drugs and do an IV drip or anything like that. I mean... I've been doing this because it was fun. So guys, if that's what it takes to reach the world's record, then I guess I'm out of the running."

*7

Angela patted me on the shoulder. "This is going to sound really strange coming from me, but I'm kinda glad. But what are you going to do now?"

"I thought we could hop in the pool and wait for Roger."

"No, I mean about... this." Gently she patted my enormous belly, the aftereffect of my foolish quest.

" Oh. Yeah, you're right... I have to do something." I grinned. "I have to eat some ice cream, down by the pool. I'm starving!" I struggled to my feet, grabbed my swimsuit, and waddled toward the kitchen.

"You mean you're not going to lose weight? Start dieting?"

"Are you kidding? Why? I love to eat, I love being fat, Roger loves me this way... why should I change? Could you grab a couple of cartons of ice cream for me? Oh, and anything you want, too, of course."

We are all in college now. Since I quit trying the record, I decided to attend State University,. along with Roger and Angela. I thought I would have problems entering so late, but I have really good grades, and Dad is rich; that's a nice combination. Roger and I have an apartment, and I still eat like a pig... probably almost as much as before, and Roger still loves it. He does everything around our place, and still loves to feed me. I'm in a little better shape now; I can walk across campus now, and I only have to stop a couple of times to rest. I haven't lost any weight, of course; don't even think about that! Actually, I think I'm still gaining, just slower. We really don't keep track anymore, we just enjoy it.

We don't see as much of Angela now. Oh, she's still a good friend, but she has a guy of her own now. He's an athlete, or he was; a lineman, cut from the football team for being too fat. No, that was before he met Angela; I know you were wondering. Anyway, all his big muscles are soft and flabby now, and he has this gut that spills over his belt. Nothing like mine, of course, but give Angela time. She hangs all over him, and she's always saying things like "Even you couldn't eat all that.... could you?" and the big goof will say "Just you wait and see!" Or maybe he's not so dumb after all; he told her he would eat three times whatever she did... and now she's got the tiniest little belly....and I've seen the way he looks at me. Hmmm.

Oh yeah; Gerry and Dad are still together, and it looks like a permanent thing. They haven't set a date, but it's just a matter of time. Yay!

Like I said, I'm a little bigger, but what with school, I'm busy with classes, and I can't eat all the time... and I have to walk to classes and stuff, so I'm getting a little more exercise. After school, I'll pick some nice sedentary career and eat what I like, and if I gain, so what? Roger has hinted about getting married, nothing definite, but he's said he wants us to always be together: that's nice to hear. I know I'm not going to be going hungry with him around. And then? Well, I know I can't just keep getting bigger and bigger forever. Like I said, I've gained few more pounds, but I seem to be slowing down. Maybe I'll reach the point where I can keep eating like this and stay the same size. Or maybe someday I might even have to diet... but not right now. Maybe in a year or two? Nah! Maybe two or three decades? That sounds better. We'll see.

*8

The End

Finally!

Footnotes?

*Deb is bursting with confidence... but she still has an attitude problem when it comes to Dad's girlfriends, and by extension to all slim, popular, conventionally beautiful women. I see some of this in the fat acceptance community too. What I wanted here was a character who could show her a woman can be really thin and beautiful, a wonderful person, and not at all absorbed with her own appearance. I also wanted Gerry to demonstrate my vision of a truly fat-accepting thin person: she notices Deb is fat, even remarks on it, but has a 'so what' attitude.

Then too, Dad was such a cool guy I wanted to set him up with a nice girl.

(Note to anyone at Mattel: She calls these girls Barbi, with no 'E' on the end... no relation whatsoever with a certain popular fashion doll....)

*All right, I can see a LOT of people upset about Angela. I rewrote her twice, and hope my meaning comes through. She has to be there; in a way she, and Deb's response to her, are the most important things I have to say.

Angela is a feeder. Not just that, she represents the 'dark side' of feeding: she gets turned on by Deb being out of shape, when she eats all the fatty, 'wrong' foods, end especially by the way Deb just doesn't seem to care! No one seems to talk about how erotic nature of feeding conflicts with practical reality.

Feeders and feedees all seem to deal with this differently. Some deny that such a conflict exists. Some ignore it as long as they can. Some restrain themselves and make feeding a fantasy, never acting on it. Some try to gain (or encourage) while eating healthy and getting lots of exercise. Some set limits: this far, but no further.

Angela hasn't worked this out yet. She is turned on by Deb gaining, but also feels tremendously guilty. Deb, on the other hand, has worked all this out: she has weighed the odd, examined the risks, and is ready to accept the consequences. She knows exactly what she's doing.

So even if Angela gives you the creeps, try and realize she is basically a good person trying to deal with some very strong desires she found deep within herself. At the moment she's overwhelmed with guilt because her emotions are in such strong conflict with her intellect.

*Lucinda is what could happen to Deb in a few years. Not just physically, either. She had applied considerable intelligence and dedication toward reaching her goal. She loves what she has done, and is tremendously happy with the result! Everything else in her life is subordinate to this. Instead of 'feedee' think 'Olympic Athlete'. Her husband, in a way, is Angela. When Deb gets a real look at what it will mean to reach this goal, she decides it's just not worth it.

There's another reason Lucinda is here: The title promises a look at the 'The Fattest Girl in the World', and I thought it only proper she make an appearance! And yes, I think that if the heaviest woman in the world were someone who loved the role and was still happily, aggressively gaining, she would be a lot like this.

*Angela has found someone who knows exactly what she's doing, and is already in the process of turning the tables. A Happy Ending was Had By All.