Queen-Of-Losers

I was 18 and had just graduated high school, yet my parents made me go on vacation. "Family vacation if you want your room and board paid for next year," they'd said. Fine. For the first few days, I got up early and went running in the beach. I was athletic and determined to not lose my stamina for fall sports. We'd go to the beach in the early afternoon, wash up, go out to an indulgent dinner, then back to the house to decompress. My one stipulation was that I got my own room and two hours a night before bed to read, in order to have time by myself. This worked well for the first week (of 12). I'd come back after dinner with the rest of the family, then trudge up the stairs with a heavy belly full of dinner. They'd all fall onto the couch and groan, drinking their nightcaps and joking about the past- my parents and aunt and uncle. I'd be upstairs in my own room, annoyed at myself for how swollen my middle was. It made it difficult to run in the morning, though I was becoming

******************Darren's POV********************* It was the holidays, and I was home with my family on Christmas Eve. I hadn't seen Wendy in a month, since that day we absolutely gorged together. She and her family always came by for Christmas Eve, and they were due any minute. I lowered my hand to the underside of my swollen gut. I hadn't gained the weight back, but I wasn't at my lightest, anymore, either. My belt had been long gone since a holiday party two days prior, and the button on my pants was being tested. I looked down, annoyed that my shirt was already giving away how stuffed I was on hors devours. Wendy and I had left on a platonic, but slightly beneficial, note. We didn't want a long distance thing, but we still spoke as if we were more than friends. We'd ended our last encounter with a passionate kiss, and spoke about others in the future via text. The door opened and she and her family filed in, gifts in hand. I smiled at Wendy's slightly fuller cheeks and

Nate had been right. I woke up the next morning absolutely starving and feeling as if I could eat more than I ever had in my life. After throwing on some gym shorts, Nate and I headed to the nearest diner for some cheap but filling breakfast. "I think you're starting to get soft," I mused after handing the waitress our menus. Nate shrugged. "I'm usually my own feeder. You push me more than I've ever pushed myself." "And how's that going for you?" "Well," he sighed. "It's only mid July and I've gained the most weight I ever have in an entire summer. My shorts can no longer be buttoned, hence the gym shorts." "Same over here." The waitress set down our biscuits and gravy, each giant plates with a side of pancakes. We ate quickly, ravenous after having our bellies stretched out the previous night. By the time we finished the plates, I wasn't even full. The food sat warm and heavy in my gut, but I felt as if I could eat an entire second meal. Nate hiccupped and patted his own gut

It's early morning. You wake up, roused to consciousness mainly by the empty ache in your stomach. Rolling your hefty body out of bed, you stretch, and rub your belly. It feels soft and cushiony, the layer of pudge bouncing slightly as you rise to stand, sloping gently down from under your moobs. You reach for a blue T-shirt. It couldn't be called roomy; your tummy is filling it out nicely now, pulling it tighter at the back where your love handles are starting to develop above your rear, and it's clinging to your chest and thickened arms, not leaving a lot to the imagination. Even in a looser shirt, it's clear you have a substantial gut on you; the days when you could hide the results of your overindulgence are over for good. Smoothing the shirt down, you finish dressing. Bending to put your socks on is harder than it once was and you puff and grunt just a little as you straighten up. As you fasten the waistband of your pants, and buckle your belt, your protruding belly pushes it down