Saturday night

chapter 1

It was another Saturday night and I was home all alone. It had been a really long and draining week, but then again every week seemed to be long and draining. I work hard for my money, and I get little more than a couple days on the weekend to relax and enjoy myself. Naturally I want to make that time count for as much as I can. Some guys might like to go out with their buddies and tie one on, drinking until they can’t see. Other guys might like to score some smoke and get high as a kite, or run around town chasing skirts, not coming home until their conquest has been taken or their every last dime has been spent.

That’s not for me though, not any of it. My idea of a good time on a Saturday night involves me locking myself up in my apartment with loads and loads of take out meals, snacks and desserts, stuffing myself until I feel like I might bust. I enjoy pushing myself to the limit, seeing how much I can force down, making myself bigger, fuller and rounder.

As you can imagine, I have gotten to be quite fat.

My name is Jonah Ellis and I’m only thirty-three years old, but I’ve been doing this since I was twenty six. So the pounds have really stacked on during that time. After getting out of college and going to work on my own, achieving everything I’d wanted to achieve in terms of a career, I felt that there was only one thing missing in my life – I wanted to get fat.
Not just a little bit fat either. I’d been considered pudgy or chubby most of my life, but that wasn’t going to do it for me anymore. I wanted to get as big and fat as I possibly could while still maintaining some mobility. Whether it was four hundred pounds or a thousand pounds, I wanted to push myself to the point of being a near immobile blob and then just keep on going, basking in the glow of my own corpulence.

Does that sound crazy to you? I know it does to most people, which is why I share my innermost thoughts and desires about gaining weight with only the closest of friends whom I feel that I can trust implicitly not to judge me or put me down. My dream is that one day I will find someone, preferably a woman, who will not only understand and accept my desires, but will encourage me in every way to pursue my dreams and help me get as fat as possible.

As of yet I’ve not been able to meet that special someone. The closest I’ve come is my friend Alana from college. She’s a beautiful, full figured lady with big brown eyes, long dark hair and a gorgeous smile. When I met her I was seeing someone else, a girl named Giana that I’d been dating since high school. When Giana and I finally broke up in my third year of college, Alana had started seeing my friend Gregor. I was happy for them of course, but I always felt a sense of regret when it came to my relationship with Alana, like I had really missed my shot at something good.

From the day we met, Alana and I always got along like we’d known one another all of our lives. I felt as though I could tell her anything, and she was very open with me as well. The first time I told her about my desire to gain and get bigger, she didn’t quite get it. “So you mean that you actually want to get fatter?” she asked me, smiling at me as if she weren’t sure whether or not I was joking.
“Yes,” I said, “that’s exactly what I want.”

“Okay, well I’m not judging you,” she said to me, “if that’s what you really want then that’s what you want. I guess I’m just curious why this is something you want for yourself. Most people you meet are trying their hardest to not gain weight and to stay slim. What is it about gaining that appeals to you?”
It was a good question, one that I didn’t exactly have an answer for at the time. As time went on and I got older and more in touch with myself, I realized what an important role that food played in my young life. My family moved around so much when I was younger, and I spent a lot of time alone. Back then the only time I felt like I really had control over anything in my life is when I was eating – and naturally, the more I ate the more I felt in control.

There was always something so comforting and satisfying about being totally stuffed, about laying in bed and rubbing my bloated belly. I loved the idea of getting so big and soft that my entire body would actually feel like an overstuffed pillow, or a warm and heavy down-comforter. It wasn’t long before the feelings of being stuffed and fat made me aroused, and by the time I was a young man there was little else that would get me excited more than my own girth and gluttony.


Waking up on a Saturday morning knowing that I had nothing to do but stuff my face all day long was my favorite feeling in the world. Jumping out of bed with my big tummy flopping out of my ill-fitted sweatpants, I'd rush to the kitchen to dig into the fridge and indiscriminately start stuffing my face with everything and anything in sight. Throughout the day I’d order more and more delivery, having them just leave the boxes out on the front step for me to retrieve. By midday I’d be completely stuffed, but I wouldn’t stop. I'd continue to order more and more, continuing to chow down until I am beyond overstuffed.

By the end of the day, when the sun has gone down and I know that I have eaten as much as I possibly can without literally rupturing my gut, I lay back in my bed and marvel at how huge and bloated my belly is as it towers over me. Flat on my back, I try to reach out and touch the the front of my belly where my navel is, but to no avail. I am so full and fat that my plump little arms just won’t reach. All I can do is lay there like a lump, huffing and puffing, gasping for air under the weight of my own stomach as the spoils of my conquest churn about inside of me.

That has been the typical Saturday night for me for the past seven years, and I’ve been happy with the results. My gluttonous exploits have taken me from a modestly plump two hundred and forty-five pounds to a whopping four hundred and seventy pounds on my five-foot eleven inch frame. Of course, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to cross the quarter-ton threshold, and thanks to a fortuitously unexpected turn of events – I would find out what it would be like to cross that threshold sooner than I’d ever imagined.