The Christmas Journal 2

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Journal entry December 26th

I sit here shaking over the day’s events. If I’m living in a dream world now, I don’t want to wake up. But perhaps I should start from there…

I woke up this morning, fearing that it would be a dream, what I wrote had happened last night. But it wasn’t! My feet, hell, part of my legs were sticking out past my bed, out from under the comforters and over and beyond the mattress. Getting up, I went to the bathroom, and it’s good thing I was going to take a shower anyway. I went to go pee, and I splattered myself. I was so tall, and so much taller than I had been (I mean jeeze, I grew a hair over a foot and half taller!) that I was misjudging distance and where to aim, still using my old feeling so I struck the seat, the back, any thing but the hole to the bowl of the toilet.

More things let me know it wasn’t a dream. I went to the closet to get the mop to clean the bathroom, had to bend over to reach in to the back and WHAM! My head struck the wall. Not the doorframe even, the WALL! I mean, jeeze, I stand up and there’s like what, only half a foot between my head and the ceiling? Maybe a lil more than that, but still! Most of my tall friends, all around six-three, six-four….they still have at least a foot and a half, little more between their head and the ceiling.
I got the mess cleaned up, washed out the mop, then turned to take a shower….I have to bend, really bend to get into it now. It only comes up to my shoulders-top of chest. And then it hits me…it’s the same height as the top of my tall friends. They only come up to my shoulders – top of chest. Never in my going through those catelogs, making plans to improve my life did I plan anything like this. I mean, I couldn’t. It’s not possible to make me grow like that. And in my dreams I hadn’t thought about being kind of uber tall. I pictured myself like my friends. Now….now I’m huge! And truthfully….as I stood there in front of my shower stall, looking down and into it, picturing my friends there and where they’d come up to me….I liked it. I liked it a lot. I got really hard.

But I knew I had to kind of wait. I bent, stooped down, to get into the shower, stooped to get under the shower head and rinse and wash and rise my body. I wondered why no other changes had taken place, but then remembered, today was the second day of Christmas. Should I try again what I did yesterday? My cock stiffened again at the thought and I playfully tugged and stroked it to almost the breaking point. At which, I opened the door to the shower stall, ducked down, and quickly strided downstairs and in front of the tree.

The circle of houses was still there, only they had changed, they had moved. When I left them there, the house I had added snow to was the one directly in front and center of the tree. Now it was shifted so as to be the first house to the left and a new one was front and center. Kneeling down, my cock ragging hard at the prospect that could come… or cum…hahaha, I finished beating myself off, the last of the dripping water from the shower being my lube. In seconds I blew and I covered that house top, almost the front too making it look like it was snowbound. Panting, exhausted, I leaned back and waited.

Time froze. The air stood still. My breath, dispite my panting heavy, was noiseless. My prick went down, and slowly grew back to erection in what felt like long long minutes. I was there for thirty minutes, maybe forty, and I looked at the clock to angrily stare at it in a way to tell time it was a fuckwad for going so long and no answer from the gift, but it’s face teasingly told me only 30 seconds had gone by! Fuck this… this is a dream, it’s not real. Somehow I mutated and nothing else is going to happen. I started to get up to leave.

POP! “On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me……two dozen stone of weight!”

“Two dozen stone of weight?” I’m already like 340lbs or so of still blubbery weight. Why the hell was it doing giving me more? I didn’t need to be fatter. I didn’t need to be heavier. I wanted to be svelt and this thing is gonna make me the michellin man? How much weight is that anyway, 2 dozen stone. That’s what 24 stone…how many pounds in a stone? This is bogus! I don’t want to be fatter. I want to be fit. I want to be trim. I…I want….to be….fed!

It came upon me again, the feeding frenze that happened yesterday and this time, I think it was worse. I sprinted for the kitchen, smacking my head on the arhways, running into the chandeliers, cursing out the ceiling fan. I couldn’t tell whether I was being over come by the voracious appetite or going under from a concussion, but I made it to the fridge, flung open the doors and began sucking things in.
I first grabbed the family pack of ground beef, I broke a hunk of it off, and was noshing on it raw… raw! But I couldn’t stop myself. I had to get it in, I had to start eating now! The rest I placed into a large baking dish and threw it into the oven. Then I grabbed the can opener and headed towards the pantry. It scared me how fast I managed to grab every single can of tuna I had and open them. Popping the lids off, once cut, with a fork and sucking down the fish meat. The cans so small in my hands, and the movements of popping lids and scarfing it down, looked like I was shucking clams or oysters.
Reching up I grabbed all the pasta I could, tossing the regular and keeping the newly bought wheat kind. Throwing it all into the largest pots of water I had. I stood and looked at the stove and oven….I was impatient as hell, then remembered the basket. I tore into it again, scarfing down all the fruits that were there, polished off in mere minutes. Walking back to the fridge I opened up the freezer section again and began tossing things at the stove left and right. I pulled out all the pots, pans, skillets I had and had every bit of food cooking… except for the vegetables that could be eaten raw. Those were in my hands, or rather my mouth as I kept gorging myself, a process that continued once the beef and fish and lamb and pasta, and whatever else had been in my fridge, pantry, or cupboards was done cooking.

I came to standing in the kitchen. I could feel juices from beef, tomatoes, pasta water running down my chin…my hands were covered in all manner of food and food stains. The kitchen….well the kitchen…yesterday it was immaculate compared to how it looked now. I would need a cleaning crew to come in and help me. My gawd, what have I done, what is this going to do to me? The answer came right then.

Once more the feeling like I had a black hole in my stomach returned with a vengence and then suddenly exploded power throughout me. I felt my body rumbling, rolling, bunching, changing. I staggered my way to the living room, collapsing on the couch.I watched as little bumps rolled out from my center, first heading down to my legs, the ankles and calves getting thicker and thicker, fatter and heavier, followed by the thighs spreading out in mass growing thicker and thicker, wider, more and more bunched. My legs were now spreading farther and father and farther apart as my spindly legs now matched my lil pooch of a belly and then continued to out grow it. If I could fight to close them, the calves then pushed them apart due to their size.

My arms and shoulders and neck were next as they kept on swelling larger and larger, thicker, heavier, I couldn’t hold them up, but I didn’t need to as they were rising up and up on their own. I couldn’t just put them down or hang them by my sides, as my sides and chest had begun to swell and blow up and push out getting so thick, and heavy, and broad, my nipples getting hard and then beginning to travel down, down, tilting, down, pointing out, slightly down, then down…Pointing at my gut, which began to swell, larger…expand more….inflate titanicly. Attempt to match the width and protrudence of my chest.

When it was done, I wanted to cry. This is not what I wanted. I didn’t want to be fat! And now I was damn near seven and half feet tall with all this bulk, I’d become a walking billboard for blubber! I cried…I really did cry. This isn’t what I wanted, but eventually I had to get up and see what the damage was. It was hard getting up…not used to this weight. It was hard to move my legs fighting for space. I stumbled, I fell, hard and the whole house shook. I needed to kick my legs out to the side to walk, and damn my little feet! They were kind of big on me at 5’9” but their proportionate size to my tall fream was a little small, and definitely not enough of a support base for all this fucking bulk.

So I got up, but as I did so, I began to see my body in action. To actually look at myself. I was fat…but this mass didn’t shake all loosey-goosey like jello. This fat was….solid? I noticed my calves bunch and kind of take up a hard diamond shape, my thighs although fat acted like there were several ridges, bunches underneath that layer. Turining to the mirror in the foyer, I looked at myself as I walked to it. I shook when I walked, but not with nearly as many ripples and sways as I thought.

My chest looked solid, thick, broad. My gut although out there looked solid too. I thumped it and it even sounded solid. I held onto its sides with both hands and proceeded to laugh like Santa Claus with a resounding “Ho Ho Ho!” (I must say it was surprising to me, I hadn’t realized how deep my voice had become. I spoke loudly, and I think I could make the china and the knick-knacks in their cabinets vibrate and shake.) Anyway, at the movement of my laughter, my belly didn’t shake like jelly, It moved a little, but it stayed firm.

As kind of a joke to myself, I brought my arms up and did a double biceps pose. To my surprise, they popped! These huge balls of mass popped out of, or kind of with the fat. I spun around. I needed to test my theory. I wasn’t sure what to do, how to do it, so I eventually grabbed one of the legs of the couch and began to lift. And lift it I did! It was easy! Well, hard because I was lifting this huge bulky thing by one of it’s legs far out on its sides, but still I was lifting it, watching my upper and fore arm tighten, and bunch, and pop from the strain, seeing a slight snaking happen as my veins begain to swell with blood, but hidden somewhat by the layer of fat.

I was snapped to, by the couch snapping. I had lifted it up enough that its own weight was causing it to go down and the single leg couldn’t support it in the air. Placing the couch down, I ran back into the kitchen and I grabbed the fridge. It was too hard, between the bulk of my chest, my gut, and size of my arms and forearms, I couldn’t get a grasp around the fridge despite my long, long arms. I quickly grabbed some moving straps and threw them around the fridge, pulled and…….I lifted it! I hefted! BY MYSELF! A FRIDGE FULL OF FOOD AND ALL! Well, what was left of food and all.

Running upstairs, I hopped on my super hi tech bathroom scale. It’s supposed to be able to weigh a car. I jumped on it and I couldn’t believe my eyes I was seven-hundred and ten pounds. 710 lbs!!!!!!!! I turned and looked in the mirror, flexing this way and that and I began to cry again, but this time it was tears of joy. Yes, I was fat, but it wasn’t all lard….I was a bodybuilder, a bodybuilder in off season condition! I can tell, I’m so strong all these things in the house have become so small, so light… I held my tower computer, my printer, my laptop, all in one hand and it felt maybe as heavy to me as a thin book! I mean, the couch was no problem. The fridge was nothing! I have a weight set that will be like children’s plastic me!

But I’ve got to stop writing about the days events now. I’ve got to get the kitchen cleaned up, and then figure out what I can wear. I mean, my upper arms are too big for the waistband of my pants! My….old pants. They’ll never fit me in any way. I think my calves are too big to the waist band! I’ m friggin HUUUUUUGE! I’m a giant mass monster. Now I need to plan how to cut down, see if I can bulk up even more. Need more food for that. Probably need to pick up some more weights. Have no clothes in which to go shopping. Need to plug my computer stuff back in, order food on line. That’ll be hard. One finger tip covers like three keys at once now. But…yes.. order food online, lift and figure out weights to order, clean up house for the delievery guy, and then order new clothes…wait. Can’t do that still ten days of Christmas, what if I change more? Guess I’ll have to greet the delievery guy in a toga….but would the sheets even be the right size to make a toga for me? Is it possible to order a bed extension?... … … …

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