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A Fictional Biography
This is just a quick story that I felt compelled to write. Some of it is true, but most of it isnt. Its pretty much unedited. Comments are welcome but be gentle! I'm just doin this for fun....not to become a writer.. I had always been thin. My youth had left me with a set of naturally toned abs and with a little extra effort on my part I had built up the rest to something that might be considered attractive by some. This however, was not what I wanted. I was simply falling in line, as many of us do, with the subtle messages fed to us by society at large. I did not want a perfect physique, rather the opposite. I wanted to be fat. I wanted to be one of those massive blubber boys that graced the TV screen on daily talk shows. I wanted to be the object of ridicule and shame as I waddled my hugely obese body down the sidewalks of my town. This however, did not look like this was going to be a viable option for the near future. This however, would change when one of my better friends got a job. I was exceedingly jealous of the extra cash (i.e. freedom) he possessed, so this eventually motivated me to look for my own employment. Not many businesses would hire a 15 year old. I knew of one though. McDonalds was constantly recruiting what seemed like an army of teenagers to train and insert into their assembly lines. The work was boring, but the people were nice. After the initial training I was moved into the regular schedule and I quickly saw many of my previously free evenings slipping away. The paycheck was more than worth it though. I likely would have wasted those free evenings anyways, and now I had more than enough money to do what I wanted too. Socializing is so much better when you have means at your disposal. It was several months in that I began to notice some changes that were occurring. I had not been able to go to the gym in quite a while, and this had left my body in something resembling a state of atrophy. This in addition to the ample amounts of burgers that I had begun to consume at work had definitely left its mark on my once proud and toned body. My stomach had begun to droop as it filled with soft jelly and my chest had started to become fleshy and plump. Even my ass seemed to be stretch at the back of my pants, clamouring for more space to expand into. These changes really excited me more than anything. In fact they probably spurred my diet on to even greater heights of gluttony. It seems that being surrounded by salty grease soaked foods has the ability to subdue ones inhibitions. Especially when the food was free (well not free, but everyone stole it). These changes hadn’t gone unnoticed by my friends. They began to tease me, calling me various names (dough boy, lardo etc.), however, it was never very serious. I enjoyed it in fact. I enjoyed the idea that people could see how fat I was getting and felt it necessary to comment. This was essentially all the encouragement I needed to continue to pig out. This pattern kept going unhindered until one day, after a particularly large late night sundae, I was leaning over the grill to scoop up a couple of errant burgers to place on the meat rack. I suddenly I felt an unexpected (and very pleasurable) release of tension around my waist. Almost simultaneously a button skidded across the grill landing neatly in the grease trap. To my horror (and probably excitement) I saw a blubbery belly roll hanging out over what remained of my waistband. Immediately out of reflex I pulled down my shirt in a vain effort to conceal my body’s new flabby addition. However, as soon as my hands let go of the shirt, it began to drift of re-exposing my soft pale flesh, criss-crossed with angry red stretch marks. Unsure of what to do I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and quickly headed for the managers office, noting that my ass was now more than enough to keep my pants aloft, even without the waistband. Now I had always thought that my manager was quite cute. He was about 19 years old and had the hottest (in my opinion) plumpest figure you could ever imagine. Topping it off with shaggy blond hair down to his eyes, and smooth unblemished skin. He was a definite improvement to the scenery around there. "Hey, mark….ummm….I sorta ripped my pants on the grill….ummm do you think I could get some new ones” I asked. He glanced up from the stack of paperwork he was attempting to deal with and let his eyes move over me, lingering on the problematic area. "Ha-ha…sure sure…that’s fine…just go in back and find some pants that..fit..” he said with the just the slightest emphasis on the word. Extremely embarrassed at this point (but also slightly turned on) I left with a brief thanks and headed straight for the storage room, leaving him looking after me. Once I got to the storage closet I quickly chose out a new pair of medium pants. Small pants certainly weren’t going to fit me anymore. The medium pants fit comfortably, but then as I was buttoning them up, an idea struck me. An idea that provoked my libido almost immediately. What if I got a bigger size? Now this may seem insignificant to the reader but this small thought carried with it a realm of meaning. The idea of getting a pair of pants to grow into possibly represented the first signs of thoughts of intentional weight gain in my cerebrum. So quickly making the decision I pulled on the large pants and went back upstairs. As I passed the managers office I caught Marks eye and he nodded at me with something that I interpreted as approval in his expression. I quickly nodded back and headed back to work. This incident had left a mark on me. My mindset towards food had begun to change. It was no longer just something extremely pleasurable; it was something that could make me fat. I began to eat more and more when I went in to work a shift. If I had bothered to add up my food intake at the time I would’ve noticed that I was eating the equivalent of 3 combos every shift, in addition to the left over dinner my mom left out for me when I went home for the night. Even when I wasn’t on shift I usually made it my business to stop in and order a couple combos for myself. It was clear that I had become addicted to McDonalds and that this addiction was beginning to consume more and more of my waking time. This wasn’t the only lasting influence the incident had on me. It seemed to demolish any previous inclination I had towards physical activity. What was left of my build had shrunk and softened to the point of non-existence. I was now completely soft all over. My friends would always poke at me to see how far their fingers would extend into my blubber. The result always seemed to impress them. Their teasing however, only emphasized in my own mind how big I was becoming. The large pants that I had once eagerly slipped into in the storage room at work, had grown tight around my waist. My belly had expanded outwards, seeming to grow doughier with every meal. My pectorals had lost all of their muscular stiffness and had degenerated into soft fat man tits, that I could feel bobbing slightly with my belly as I walked. My ass had continued strain the seat of my pants as they turned into two soft rippling globes of blubber that always seemed to wriggle themselves up and out of my pants, exposing my now much larger plumbers butt. Even my thighs had gained a soft plumpness of their own. If these changes weren’t noticeable enough, I always wore old and extremely tight shirts that were completely unable to cover my increased girth. I loved to strut around in what I considered my sexy attire, showing off all of my gluttonous flab to everyone that walked by. Its obvious to me now that I enjoyed the teasing, I was turned on by it, so I tried to attract as much attention as possible. It was this particular quirk that attracted the attention of someone unexpected. Source: http://www.bigguts.com/forum/showthread.php?t=1297 | |
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