One Hundred Pounds Later: Chapter 3

You know, it always seems really hot when gainers post about not being able to fit into dress clothes they’ve just purchased, but it’s not so fun when it actually happens to you. The pants I’m supposed to wear fit fine two weeks prior and although I can still get them on, it’s quite painful. My shirt is pretty snug too, but that was intentional. Sometimes I can’t help my gainer brain from taking over and squeezing me into ridiculous little outfits before I go out in public. Graduation day was no exception.

Last semester I really outdid myself. Living alone was a boon for my belly and I put on 30 more pounds bringing me to a full figured 240 on an empty stomach. It felt incredible. Finally I was getting fat all over. I’ve become so padded it feels ridiculous at times, it’s to the point that everything jiggles and wobbles and has a life of its own. My favorite achievement is that my fat pad finally asserted itself.

It happened in the last ten or so pounds. Like, I was definitely getting puffy down there for awhile, but then suddenly it ballooned into its own little appendage. Instead of a subtle bulge there are definite creases. It’s so fucking hot. Especially when I’m jerking off and my hand bounces against it as I reach for the base of my shaft. There’s nothing better.

All of this has been so easy too. It’s like I’m barely trying and every day I wake up a bit doughier than the last. Sure, I have long distance encouragers and a never ending supply of heavy cream in my fridge, but it’s not like I have to force myself to eat. I just love stuffing my face and going on about my day with a full belly and new clothes that no longer fit. Sometimes I realize that I’m only 21 and can’t even imagine how big I’ll be at 30. Although, the guys did promise me 100 pounds in a year and I still have 50 pounds to go in only 3 months. Seems like a long shot…

After squeezing into a pair of pants I have no business wearing and buttoning up a shirt any self respecting man would have tossed aside fifteen pounds ago, the reality of my situation dawns on me. My family is going to arrive at my apartment in less than an hour. Not only have I gained thirty pounds since they last saw me, but my place is a pigsty. In a brief panic, I unbuttoned my shirt and pants and began tidying up.

I scooped up all the empty fast food bags, even the ones that had gotten shoved under my bed. I unearthed a few dozen empty bottles of Boost left in odd corners of the place. I even chugged the last two containers in the box so I could dispose of the evidence. I threw out the mostly empty bags of chips and candy bars in the night stand. I filled a whole garbage bag with empty gallons of milk. I scrubbed all the food that had become encrusted to the counter and vacuumed the crumbs off the floor.

It was unbelievable the magnitude of filth I had accumulated. I mean I knew I had become a total hog in the last few months, but it was eye opening to see the full extent of my gluttony measured in debris. Half the shit I didn’t even remember eating, let alone purchasing. However, I had been in such a feverish haze that it made sense. I was such an utter lazy ass this last semester that even my grades had begun to slip. One class I was even close to failing.

It’s not that I was even preoccupied with gaining. I was just always tired. I never had any energy or interest to walk across campus to class. It seemed so boring and pointless. Even walking to the pizza shop across the street felt like a monumental effort at times. People don’t realize, but once you normalize laziness and hedonism it’s hard to go back into the real world. That’s why I didn’t even think about cleaning up until the last minute.

Sweating like a pig, I had to make several trips up and down the stairs to dispose all the trash bags. By the time I was finished I was gasping for air and needed another shower. I was not used to that level of exertion. Even bending over so much to pick up all that trash was difficult with my belly in the way.

After another shower I slapped those tight clothes back on and admired my body in the mirror. My teenage self would be proud. My gut was finally rounding out up high beneath my chest. I had always considered this the sign of a true fat guy. Beginner bellies usually rest heavy around the navel. They form more of a pooch. Real fat guys have a belly that slopes outward from the highest point. I patted this high point on my belly with pride. Simultaneously, I heard a knock on my door. I took a deep breath and headed to the door.

Shockingly, my family did not comment on my weight. I’d never known them to be fatphobic or anything, but I knew my gains had been fast and obvious. However, this was the first time that I could tell they were surprised and sneaking looks when they thought I wasn’t aware. It was cute. I was proud to be growing into a young fat man, now with a college degree and four gainer/encouragers waiting back in LA for me.

After some obligatory photos and small talk, I donned my robe and we all headed outside. The trek to the football field was far and in the blazing summer heat it was a struggle. It was a particularly warm day and with a robe layered over a button up that was layered over a tank top, I was sweating almost immediately. That second shower was useless!

By the time we arrived I was huffing and puffing. My thighs were chafing and drops of sweat fell from my face. My underbelly and fat pad were soaked and while I would normally find this arousing, when coupled with the tight clothes and heat I felt completely miserable. My Dad even asked if I was okay. What was I supposed to say? “No, I’m too fat to exist like this?”

A few hours later, with my diploma in hand, we moved to the gymnasium where, delightfully, there was a smorgasbord of food. I was not bashful about ordering from two different stands and proudly waddling back to our table with two full meals. After the heat I had endured I deserved to eat! My father mumbled something before I sat down but I didn’t hear him. Unfortunately, I wish I had.

With a sigh of relief I dropped my full weight back onto a flimsy foldable chair which apparently already had a bent leg. That’s what my father was warning me about. So when my 240 pounds of chubbery made contact with the seat, it completely collapsed beneath me. I tumbled to the ground with food still in my hand and now all over my robe. The noise echoed through the gym. When I got up I noticed everyone looking in my direction. My face turned beat red and my cock got a little hard.