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Billy and Danny Part 1
"Alright Billy, take off all your clothes, except your underwear. The doctor will be in in a few minutes,” the nurse cheerfully stated. "Don’t be too long,” she called as she shut the door.|
Great. My annual physical was about to begin. Something I dreaded more than anything in the world. Not only because I just don’t like doctors’ offices and all, but also because it was embarrassing. Every year, the doctor told me the same thing - that I needed to lose weight. Every year - "Billy, you need to lose a lot of weight. You are dangerously close to extreme obesity.” He recommended nutritionists, weight-loss programs, gyms, etc. And this year, I was guessing that I wasn’t "dangerously close to being extremely obese”, but that I was extremely obese.
I had gained a lot of weight since last year, and I found it was getting harder to walk. Running was definitely out of the question and it was just this year at school that I had gotten permission not to do gym. When I did do it, I was ridiculed…not to mention when I ran my legs struggled to pass each other, my thighs slapped together, my belly bounced all over the place - everything jiggled and I was out of breath within seconds.
My schedule was even rearranged so that I would not have to go up any stairs during the day, as it was just too strenuous and I was late to class a lot…School…Something I dreaded almost as much as going to the doctor, except I had to go to school every day, and not just once a year. It’s not so much that people actually tease me about my weight. I mean, I’m not popular but I have friends and all; it’s the stares from everyone around me that I feel everywhere I go - When I’m walking down the hall, walking into a classroom, eating at lunchtime (that’s the worst). Not to mention that the desks at my school are too small for me to fit into.
It was horrible on the first day this year of 8th grade, when I first went to sit down in the school’s new desks. I walked sideways down the narrow aisle to my desk, put my books down, and started to squeeze myself into the desk, all eyes on me.
I pushed my butt in first, but then I realized my stomach didn’t fit that well. I was determined though to fit into that desk, and I pushed and pushed my stomach under the surface of the desk, until at last I got in, a few rolls spilling onto the desk, my butt and love handles hanging off the sides. I then spread my legs open and allowed my belly to fall through and hang more comfortably.
It was the most embarrassing moment of my life, with everyone watching.
Actually, it was the second most embarrassing time…there was this one time during the summer when I was 9, and my mother had taken me to a kid amusement park for the day. I had always been a sort of dare devil, and seeing the huge roller coaster (ok, it looked huge when I was 9), I just had to go on it. So my mother and I waited in line for almost half an hour, the anticipation killing me. And at last, it was my group’s turn. But as I climbed into one of the carts, and the employee came around to put down the safety bar, I realized the bar wouldn’t go down all the way, due to my pile of belly fat that protruded out. Nor would the regular seatbelt fit around my belly.
The employee tried to get the bar down all the way, and I sucked in as much as I could, but that bar would not go down. The guy asked me how old I was, and then told me he was really sorry. I was bright red, and the guy kept telling me it was fine, and not to worry, as he escorted me off the ride. Half an hour of waiting to go on one roller coaster only to get there and find I’m too fat to fit.
Don’t get me wrong; I like, no, love being big. This may sound crazy, but when I know someone’s watching me do something - ok, for instance, eating - I stuff my face as fast as I can, getting food all over myself, going up for thirds, fourths, fifths, and making sure that my spectator can see when I unbutton my jeans and allow my stomach to pour out freely. It just excites me…I don’t know. And when -
"Hello Billy,” the doctor’s voice interrupted my thinking. "…Oh, you haven’t taken off your clothes yet…I see…Ok, well I’ll be right back, but hurry and take those clothes off. I have a lot of people in the waiting room.”
"Uh, sorry Dr. Brody, I, uh, got lost in thought I guess.”
He smiled and nodded, then left the room.
I got to work. First I took off my too-tight shirt (It was the only clean shirt I could find). Glad to have the tension the shirt had put on my belly gone, I let my stomach push out full force, resting on two thirds of my large, dimpled thighs. My large male breasts fell to rest on my huge belly. I tossed my shirt onto a nearby chair. Then, I reached under my belly, and started to undo the button on my jeans.
But I soon realized it would be a little hard. The jeans were just too tight around my waist. Sucking in, I tried again, but the stupid button would not go through the stupid hole. This wasn’t good. I started to panic, knowing that I had to get them off, and because I was making Dr. Brody wait. Not to mention -
There was a knock on the door, and then it slowly eased open.
"Billy? You ready?”
"Well, you need to take your jeans off…I thought I told you.”
I looked down, embarrassed, at my stomach, lying comfortable between my open legs on the cot-thing I was sitting on.
"Well…I…sort of…can’t get the button undone on my jeans…” I mumbled.
"You what? Speak up, I can’t hear what you’re saying.”
"I can’t get the, um, button on my jeans undone.”
"Well that’s a problem, isn’t it? Would you like some help?”
My face turned bright red.
"Uh, yeah…yeah I would.”
"Nothing to be embarrassed about, young man,” Dr. Brody said.
He started walking over. I sucked in (not like you could tell) and lifted up my belly for him to see the button.
"Could you just hold your stomach up a little more?” he requested as he looked for the button.
Then I leaned back so it would be easier for him. He reached out and began to fiddle with the button until finally I felt the release of the tight jeans.
"There we go. Just take off the jeans in the corner over there.”
"Uh…also, I can’t reach down to untie my shoes…So could you…uh, well, could you pull them off…?” I asked, turning even redder.
"Of course,” Dr. Brody replied. He leaned down and untied each shoe, then took them off.
"Alright, Billy, jeans off.”
With some trouble, I sat back up, dropped my belly back down, and then heavily got off the cot. I waddled over to the corner and struggled to pull the jeans down over my butt, then finally got them down onto the floor, revealing my way too tight boxers, riding up between my legs. My thighs drooped heavily over my knees, and my calves were quite large, with no muscle whatsoever.
I leaned down to pick up the jeans, and unconsciously grunted from the surprising weight of my belly pulling me down. Wow…I had really gotten bigger recently! I tossed the jeans onto a chair, then went and sat back down on the cot, feeling extreme embarrassment now in front of Dr. Brody.
I knew what he was thinking as he watched me, sitting there, my huge thighs pressed tightly together, my butt spilling across a good portion of the cot, my massive belly resting in between my legs, my chins resting on my upper chest; He was thinking that I was too fat.
"Alright kiddo, let’s see how tall you are.”
Once again I pushed myself up with some trouble, feeling Dr. Brody’s eyes on me, and waddled across the room to the height measurer.
I waited as he figured out how tall I was.
"5’6…ok, now weight,” he said after a few seconds.
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