Author's Note: This part is about 2,500 words, so this gets me past my 4,000 word weekly goal. I hope you enjoy!
Feedback as always is appreciated. Thanks for the support!
-Polaris
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The Double Date
By Polarisdreamer
Part 2
After our double date, the insight I had secretly gained into Calab’s sexuality motivated me to do some serious research before I saw him again. From what he described during his conversation with his brother, I was able to discover that Calab’s fetish was something under the umbrella of fat-fetishism called feedism, a sexual subculture that fetishizes overeating and weight gain.
During my search and discovery process, I found websites, articles and videos on feedism, and I learned a lot. I discovered that feeders want to feed their partners, and feedees want to be fed. Gainers derive sexual pleasure from cultivating fat. There are FA’s, fat admirers, who simply want to bask in the beauty of BBWs and SSBBWs (big beautiful women and supersize big beautiful women). Then there was stomach play, squashing, stuckage, and inflation. This strange sexual proclivity based around the accumulation of extra fat had enough subcategories to keep me occupied for days trying to uncover them all.
I watched videos of pot-bellied porn stars eating their way through foot-long subs, entire trays of desserts, and all manner of junk foods, all while running their hands up and down their swelling stomachs, and moaning with enjoyment. I watched chubby ladies, wearing masks to conceal their identities, chug liters of soda and burp loudly, to the delight of their audiences. I even watched a video of a massively overweight former bikini contestant in her underwear, on her hands and knees, sizing up a cake on her kitchen floor before happily tearing into the cake face first. She ate the whole thing without seemingly any need to even take an extra breath, and bragged about it to the camera when she was done.
My brain was awestruck. It was thrilling to know something so intimate about Calab, something he was clearly so embarrassed about. Though I certainly weighed less than the women of his fantasies, this insight into his sexuality actually made him more masculine in my eyes, thinking about how much woman he wanted. No, how much woman he craved.
I was engrossed by those who identified with the fetish, particularly the women. There was something delightfully refreshing about the way these women rejected and overturned the skinny cookie-cutter molds society forces upon us, molds which we are expected to fit into without question or complaint. Seeing women brag about how they could no longer fit into their clothes because of how much weight they had gained made me want to cheer. Seeing women, whose stomachs had grown so fat that they spilled onto their thighs, proudly lifting up their belly fat and slapping it onto countertops made me want to applaud. These women seemed so satisfied, so radically unashamed of their unconventional bodies. They got to indulge their every craving guilt-free.
It didn’t seem fair. I found myself actually feeling jealous, as crazy as that may sound. Even though I’d always enjoyed exercising, I couldn’t deny that all my life, for better or worse, I’d been engrossed in diet culture. Being thin was a subconscious moral imperative, it was something I never questioned, until now. I’d stumbled upon a community in opposition to society’s unrealistic beauty standards. It was a strange new world, one where giving in to hedonism and letting go was placed on a pedestal and sexualized.
I couldn't imagine myself getting quite as big as any of the girl's I observed, but suddenly, for the first time in my life, gaining 30 or so pounds didn't seem so scary. In fact, it actually felt a little tempting. With the prospect of formally dating Calab on my horizon, I decided to test the waters the next time we met up for a cup of coffee.
It was almost a week after our double date. I’d been indulging more often late at night, but I hadn’t gained any noticeable weight. My scrubs still fit me flawlessly. While we were standing in line to place our orders, we traded pleasantries and I waited for my moment to act on the knowledge I had acquired.
“Anna, did you hear the hospital is planning to renovate the cafeteria?” Calab questioned seemingly uncomfortable letting any silence exist between us for any prolonged length of time.
“I did. It’s about time. I wonder if the food will get any better.” I replied with a smile.
“I hope so, but I’m not going to get my hopes up super high. Administration is always cutting corners to save money. It will look better, but I doubt they’ll improve the quality of the actual food.” Calab sighed.
“So sinical.” I replied in an exaggerated tone.
“I’m a realist. What can I say?” Calab chuckled, as he turned his head and looked up at the menu, “I think I’m craving something more substantial than just coffee. Do you want anything to eat? I’ll buy.”
‘This is my chance!’ I excitedly thought, so quick to reply that my voice burst out before I had any idea what I even wanted to say, “Ummmmm…”
“No pressure. If you’re not hungry don’t worry about it.” Calab cheerfully tried to walk back his previous comment, but I wasn’t about to let him do so.
“I’m hungry! I just… There are just so many choices. I can never make up my mind… Hahaha,” I stalled before an idea hit me, “How about you pick out something for me?”
“Umm, okay. What do you like? Err, what are you in the mood for? Something sweet? Something savory? They have breakfast sandwiches.” Calab stammered sounding a little flustered by my suggestion.
It was cute seeing him so flustered. And all I did was ask him to pick something for me to eat. Wanting to give him exactly what he wanted, I replied, “Mhh, something sweet.”
“How would you feel about a razzberry tart? Or a chocolate donut? To go with your coffee.” Calab suggested, seeming a little nervous still.
“I…” I paused for dramatic effect, “I hope you won’t judge me, but I kind of would like to try both.”
“No judgment here. If you want both, that’s great. I’d be happy to get them for you.” Calab smiled in a way that assured me.
“Perfect. You’re the best.” I replied, while returning Calab’s smile with interest. I gave him a loving little pinch on his muscular upper arm to show my appreciation.
After we ordered our food and coffee, Calab was quick to devour his breakfast sandwich, but I took my time with my treats. I wanted to draw out my meal, embellish my enjoyment, and gauge his reaction. As I ate, his eyes seemed glued to my lips. There was desire and passion in his eyes, much more than I’d noticed during our double date. My behavior had activated his imagination, triggered his fantasies. He wasn’t just watching me eat, he was imagining what would happen if I ate like this all the time and started putting on weight.
I felt more powerful with each little bite that I took, more confident. I knew what Calab wanted and how to give it to him. So, once I finally finished my treats, I waited for the proper moment in our conversation to ask seductively…
“By the way…” I purred placing my hand upon his knee, “Do you mind ordering me another razzberry tart? I’m still pretty hungry. One just wasn’t enough.”
I could tell from the look on his face, I had him.
…
Two months later, as I stepped onto my sister’s bathroom scale, butterflies filled my stomach, I held my breath, squeezed my eyes shut, and listened to the dial spinning, too afraid to open my eyes and see the results. Eventually, my curiosity won over my apprehension, and I reluctantly opened them. Promptly looking down, it was difficult for me to make sense of the result.
“131 pounds?? That’s it??” I muttered to myself in disbelief, I’d been stuffing myself silly around Calab, and even when he wasn’t around, all in the hopes of gaining some weight, and piquing his interest to the point he felt comfortable opening up and coming clean about his secret desires I knew he had lurking just below the surface.
Only gaining 10 pounds after two months of trying seemed extremely anticlimactic.
Stepping off the scale, I turned my eyes upward and examined my reflection in the full-length mirror. Wearing just a sports bra and some gym shorts, the only evidence I could see from my recent habit of snacking late at night was a subtle ring of newly acquired pudge around my midsection, and a little more thickness across my backside. If it was hardly noticeable in such revealing clothes, there was no way it was noticeable when I was wearing anything that remotely covered me.
Leaving the bathroom feeling disappointed, I reflected on my situation. After our double date, Grace and Bob had taken the plunge and actually started formally dating. Calab and I followed suit shortly after our coffee date. When we started dating everything was easy. He was easy to talk to, easy on the eyes, very easy to turn on since I knew what got him going, and he seemed to have an easy time making me scream to high heaven each and every time we had sex. I’d never really been in love before, but our relationship was such magic that I couldn’t resist falling hard for him far too quickly.
He loved taking me out, spoiling me with gifts, and affection. Whether we were out and about, or lounging around watching TV, Calab didn’t just feel like a boyfriend, he was beginning to feel like a best friend. Inside and out, he was everything I ever wanted in a partner, and I wished I could be the same for him. But despite my efforts to scratch his unscratchable itch, deep down, I couldn’t help feeling like I wasn’t what he wanted. Such insecurity motivated me to let myself go as best I could, but I worried my best just wasn’t good enough.
Ever since that fateful double-date, I quit going to the gym cold turkey, and every night before bed I’d force myself to stomach a container of ice cream, or a slice of cake. It wasn’t easy, sometimes indulging that late was the last thing I wanted to do, but I did it because I was obsessed. I was stuck on Calab, I wanted to be his dream girl, so I endured. And yet, after two months of hard work, what did I have to show for it? 10 pounds, and a little less muscle tone.
I ate a lot when I was out with Calab, because I knew he liked seeing me overeat. I was putting away a lot of food, but where were all those calories going? I had practically nothing to show for it.
Pouting as I exited the bathroom, I made my way over to the fridge. My anxious thoughts were interrupted by my sister who decided to heckle me, as I walked by.
“Geee you are getting BIG Anna, when u due???” Grace teased sarcastically, as she munched on her customary pre-dinner bowl of cereal and eyed the way my stomach stuck out more than it used to.
“Shut up. Not in the mood.” I replied trying to focus my thoughts on my dinner date later with Calab.
However, clearly, Grace wasn’t ready to quit her teasing. In an instant, she stood up from the kitchen table, joined me by the fridge, and pinched an inch of my newfound lower belly, “My my, where did this come from? You're really growing, aren't you?”
“I wish! I’ve been eating SO much recently, just stuffing myself silly every night, eating until I feel like I’m going to burst, but none of it is sticking!” I replied, before sinking my pointer finger right into my sister’s considerably doughier gut and adding, “How do you do it? Gaining weight isn’t working for me.”
“You really want my advice on how to get fat?” Grace questioned raising an eyebrow.
“Yes!” I replied without hesitation.
“Why don’t you just ask your boyfriend to fatten you up? We both know that’s what he wants.” Grace giggled sounding naughty.
“We can cross that bridge when and if he feels comfortable bring it up, until then, I’m doing this on my own, because I know he’ll like it.” I explained.
“So selfless Anna. Is that why you’re doing this? Because you want to make your boyfriend happy? Or because you’re insecure he might dump you if you don’t?” Grace countered.
“I’m doing this, because I want to. For him, and for me.” I assured her, although I’m not sure how convincing I sounded.
“Alright, if you want my advice, here is my advice. If you want to gain weight, you’ve got to commit to it. A figure skater doesn’t hold back when going for a tripple-axel, so neither should you when it comes to food. Salads are off limits unless they’re slathered in creamy dressing. Fish had better be panko-crusted, beer-battered, or awash in butter. Always be chewing on something, graze throughout the day, carry snacks in your purse. And, remember that you always have room for more. If you feel stuffed with half a plate of pasta to go, suck it up and finish. Oh! And forget wine and cocktails, switch to hearty and heavy craft beers. They don’t call them beer bellies for nothing... AND avoid stairs, the elevator is your new best friend.” Grace ranted seemly very knowledgeable on this subject.
“I’m gonna need to write that down…” I replied unable to retain everything Grace had just blurted in my direction.
“I’ll write it down, you go chew on something.” Grace snapped pointing over at her cereal on the kitchen table.
“I’m going out to dinner with Calab later though, I don’t want to spoil my appetite.” I muttered in my defense without thinking.
“Were you not listening? One, if you wanna gain weight, you gotta eat more. Two, don’t worry about spoiling your appetite, remember even if you’re full, you can always eat more. Three, if you want my help, don’t question me. Just do what I say. Got it?” Grace finished, as I nodded.
“You’re the expert.” I teased pinching and inch of my sister’s sizable roll of lower belly fat.
“For now. My boyfriend’s not a chubby chaser.” Grace teased right back with a poke to my softer midsection.
“Calab’s not a chubby chaser. He’s a feeder. There’s a difference.” I shot back sounding like the know-it-all I tried to be.
“What’s the difference?” Grace wondered, while I took a moment to think before I responded.
“For chubby chasers bigger is best. For feeder’s the weight gain journey is more important than the destination.” I explained, as best I could in a concise manner. I knew it was more complicated than I was making it sound, but I didn’t have all day to explain it.
Seeming unphased by my descriptions, Grace just rolled her eyes and repeated, “As I was saying, I’m the expert, for now. Let’s see if that changes if you keep dating Calab.”
“Shut up. I’ll never be as fat as you are.” I vowed.
“Never say never.” She warned in reply…