Why Fix What Isn't Broken?
By J.D Freshenmeyer
“Babe.”
“Mhmm.” he grunted in reply. He was facing away from her, doing pull-ups on the bar in the doorway between their living room and the kitchen. He was shirtless, and his fur-covered back muscles flexed and contorted with every up movement. He kept his antlers trimmed short, otherwise they’d scrape the ceiling.
“I think I need to lose some weight.”
At those words he went slack, hanging from the bar like a monkey. It was happening again.
Alright, don’t panic. Just don’t panic. We’ve been through this before. We know the drill. Just breathe.
Hux dropped from the bar with a thud and turned to his wife. She had paused the TV. That meant it was serious.
“Sorry, say that again? I’ve got sweat in my ears.” He knew exactly what she’d said. It felt like an icicle through his brain.
“I said I want to lose weight.” She was looking at him with her ‘this is important to me, so it better be important to you as well’ face. She didn’t look any less beautiful, though. She never did. Her deep maroon hair that almost verged into purple, her soft, kind blue eyes that always betrayed her when she tried to be stern or angry, the spots of white on her brown doe fur. Her pink nose that twitched when she was happy. Hux could have gone on and on.
“What are you talking about? You look great.”
“You’re just saying that.”
He wasn’t, and she knew he wasn’t. But when she was like this, Hux’s affirmations of his wife’s body were like throwing paper cups at an army tank.
Hux and Melissa have been married for 10 years. 10 wonderful years. In fact, they’d recently celebrated their 10th anniversary up in a mountain cabin (where they’d spent most of the time doing it like rabbits. No offense to their friends who were rabbits). He was a firefighter and she was a school teacher. So between the two of them they made enough for a comfortable suburban life. They wouldn’t be doing burnouts in Ferraris or popping champagne on top of a private zeppelin, but the bills were always paid and they took multiple vacations a year.
When they’d met, Melissa had already been chubby. Well, chubby by her standards, certainly not by his. In truth, she was much smaller than the women he was usually interested in. But as they say, once you meet your one, you just know it’s meant to be. And they’d been each other’s ones from the word go.
He’d been up-front about his...proclivities, (though the more hardcore aspects of his fetish he’d kept private) and once he’d assured her that he wasn’t one of those guys she’d seen documentaries about that fed women until they couldn’t get out of bed, she found his tastes mostly just amusing. Sure, he could pinch her tummy when they had sex, and a slap on her already generous backside from time to time wasn’t unappreciated.
But that was back then, and marriage, as it almost inevitably did, had taken its toll on her figure. Hux avoided falling into the trap thanks to his work. He’d always been a gym addict and had to stay in peak shape for his job. Melissa, on the other hand, spent most of her time either behind a desk or parked on the couch. The stress of work, the boredom when he was on a 24 shift every third day and she had nothing to do but eat, and just the settled in, relaxed nature of a happy marriage had gradually piled the pounds onto her.
Hux never mentioned it, (certainly never tried to intervene) but it was an unspoken truth between them. He couldn’t have been happier with how her body had turned out, and continued to turn out. He knew she would never have agreed to a feeder/feedee relationship, and she hadn’t needed to. She’d done exactly what he would have done for her, all by herself. Well, of course with a little gentle nudging on his part. There was always a well-stocked fridge, a treat when she was feeling down, a nice dinner and dessert at a modest restaurant, followed by ice cream on the couch afterwards.
But just like how you would occasionally wake up with a toothache and need to deal with it, the topic of weight loss also cropped up occasionally. And always managed to blindside him.
Hux sat down next to his wife and put a comforting arm around her shoulder. It was just before dinner and the sky had gone from that sickly orange to a nicer twilight. “Why do you think you need to lose weight? Did someone at work say something?”
“No, I got on the scale this morning and... I don’t even wanna say the number.”
He wasn’t gonna probe her for it, but God, he wanted to know. Hey, maybe if he got on it, it’d still have the number on there for a few seconds.
She had on a white tank top (something she only wore at home. Hux was the only one allowed to see her bare arms) and a pair of admittedly snug black leggings that clung to her thighs and butt. Again, strictly for his eyes only, and even then she wasn’t thrilled about it.
Alright, buddy boy. Time to turn on the charm.
“You know you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, right?” He leaned in with both arms around her and started kissing all over her cheek and neck.
Melissa tried to stand firm in her self consciousness, but faltered in seconds and was giving Hux a kiss back for every one he gave her. Soon they were lengthwise on the couch and his hand was wandering down her cleavage.
“Mmm... you’re not gonna talk me out of it this time,” she finally told him. “I know you like me big and fat, but it’s just too much. I shouldn’t have let it get this bad.”
He desperately wanted to yank her shirt up and blow raspberries on her soft wobbling belly, but now wasn’t the time. This was a tightrope that needed to be carefully walked if he wanted to get to the other side. Benjamin “Hux” Huxley had a plan. He had a plan and he had the self assurance to pull it off. Just like how he needed to believe in himself 100 percent to charge into a smoke-filled burning building to save a trapped person, he knew how he was going to save his wife’s waistline.
“Alright, if it’ll make you happy.”
She seemed caught off guard. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Of course I love your body the way it is—”
The Gods in that moment gave him the strength to not end the sentence with “and all this beautiful blubber” before furiously groping every wobbling bit of her.
“But I want you to be happy more than anything. So if you really want to lose weight, I...” he couldn’t lie to her. He couldn’t say he would help, because he wouldn’t. Every fiber of his being prevented him from lifting a paw in service of weight loss. “I won’t stop you.”
Good enough.
She was elated. “Oh Hux, my big strong deer.” She kissed him down his neck and on his bare chest.
“Just not tonight, okay? Give yourself one more night of indulgence before it’s all salads and treadmills.”
He saw just a hint of trepidation in her pretty face. The first seed had been planted.
Of course, anyone can talk about losing weight. They can talk about doing anything. It’s in the doing that most people fail. And Hux was confident Melissa would fail. Because she had talked about this before. Tried it before. And failed before. Make no mistake, he loved his wife dearly. He loved every part of her. Everything she said, everything she did. He loved the ground she walked on.
Except for her insecurity. He didn’t love that.
She was a beautiful soul and it made him furious that her head had been filled with external propaganda and self-doubt. It was the TV, and magazines. And the endless parade of photoshopped social media sludge that had poisoned her mind and made her hate herself. Hux knew that the only way for Melissa to truly be free was to see her own beauty. Not to change because someone else told her she had to. Because that was a path that would never end and lead nowhere pleasant. And so in his own way, what he was doing was for her own good. She would not lose weight, and in time he would finally get through to her that she didn’t need to.
Dinner was an absolutely diabolical pasta bake. Four layers deep, swimming in fat and melted cheese.
As you might expect of someone who would have happily seen the entire world obese, Hux was a quite good cook. That night he’d really outdone himself—to give Melissa a final taste of what she’d be missing out on with her new health regime. Oh no more of his cooking, he didn’t know how to make salads and steamed chicken. He’d thrown on a t-shirt with an old horror movie on it, and was still wearing his little booty shorts he worked out in. His equivalent of dressing up for dinner.
Watching his wife eat when she felt like she had permission was a sight to behold. For her ‘last night’ of freedom, Melissa went absolutely hog wild. Plate after plate disappeared in between loud shameless burps. Hux had a few beers, while she chugged soda straight from the bottle. As her belly tightened and strained against her leggings, she actually hiked them down a little to give herself more room and rubbed it gently.
Hux was rock hard under the table, but it was tinged with frustration. This could have been every night. This could have been their lives. If only he could get her away from the toxic influence of online thinness culture. She was an adult, he wasn’t going to just confiscate her phone like she was 12, but there had to be a way.
The whole meal was something absurd like 10,000 calories. Of course the rule of calories in, calories out applied. So everything Hux put into his well-toned, active body went to muscle recovery. While Melissa, who was entirely sedentary, would only store it on her hips. Tonight at least, she wouldn’t lose a gram. He’d made sure of that.
After dinner, when they were cuddling on the couch watching TV and Melissa was halfway through a tub of rainbow sherbet ice cream (she really could pack it away when she wanted to). Hux suggested they take some before and after video.
“So you can look back and see how much you’ve lost.”
She was still hesitant, so he played his other angle. “Come on, I’m never gonna get to see this big, beautiful body again. I need something to remember it by.”
He looked at her with his exaggerated, pleading eyes like an orphan on Christmas, and after a few seconds she cracked. “Oh alright, fine,” she said through laughter. “But you’re never to show anyone. EVER. Got it?”
He kissed her on the tip of her pink nose, “Of course I’d never do that.” He meant it, too. But she insisted they wait a while for her to digest dinner so she didn’t look pregnant. And the curtains had to be closed—in case there was anyone out there with night vision goggles that might have seen a heat blob in the shape of a doe undressing.
God, she was beautiful standing there in his camera lens. She’d absolutely refused to change into the plus sized lingerie he got her for her birthday last year, and just had on her boring beige comfort bra and panties, but even that she managed to look good in.
Blushing a pretty red that made him think of the flowers at his grandparents farm when he was a kid, she gave a peace sign to the camera. “So, for my future self, this is my body. Or was my body from the future when you’re watching this. As you can see, it’s not great. My husband behind the camera would probably disagree, but we try our best to ignore him.”
“Do a turn so we can see everything.”
She did.
“And what parts do you want to change the most?”
She pinched at her belly—most of which was tucked into her high-waisted panties. “All this gross flab.”
Hux bit his tongue. “What else?”
She held out one arm and grabbed at the fat hanging off. “All this under here.”
Oh not the arms. Those are the best part. Why don’t you just tell me you’re gonna set my car on fire next?
“And this thing, obviously.” She turned around and clapped both hands on her butt cheeks.
He noticed she was almost, almost fat enough for the top of her butt to form a shelf. A man didn’t even have to dream. It would be real soon enough.
“Are we done now?” she asked.
He could have gone Kubrick on her and done a hundred takes and two hours of footage from every angle, but this would have to do. He shut the camera off. “Yeah, I got everything.”
“I’m sure you did. You could see my butt from space.”
Yeah, that’d be the day. Time for the coup de grâce of phase 1 of operation “Diet Destruction.” Hux had the method of how to lift unconscious people down to a science, and in one smooth motion—he scooped Melissa off her feet and held her cradled in his arms.
She gave a silly little surprised giggle.
“If you were too fat, I wouldn’t be able to lift you, would I?” In truth, his muscles were already straining. This was what all those sandbag carries had been for.
“Of course you can lift me. You’re so big and strong. You’ve got those perfect muscles and I’m just...me.” She looked away embarrassed.
Aghh, he could have screamed. Every time he thought he had her cornered, she found a way to still be self-deprecating. Like a fish that always found a hole to escape through. “You know, back in our ancestors’ days, a big heavy wife was a sign that the tribe had skilled hunters that could gather lots of food. They’d be the envy of all the other tribes. Men were meant to be strong, and women were meant to be nice and soft.”
“Yeah well cave people didn’t have iPhones to see how skinny the girls in the other tribe were. Those days are long over, Mister tribal deer leader.”
His eyes glinted, “Oh, I think I can still be a cave deer when I want.”
She did that silly little giggle again as he carried her off to the bedroom. By this point he’d definitely hit a new PR.
The sex was the best either of them had ever had. Hux brought his absolute A game. Every trick, every technique, every little thing he’d ever learned that Melissa liked since they’d known each other—he used. Normally, Melissa had a particular request, that he go slower so her body didn’t jiggle when he thrust because it made her self-conscious. That night she never once asked him to slow down. And when she finished, she was loud enough that the next door neighbors heard.
As Hux lay in bed afterwards, arms folded behind his head, he felt a sense of overwhelming pride, like a primal beast that had just made the ultimate conquest. Melissa was lying next to him with her head on the pillow, slowly stroking his chest fur.
The next words he spoke were what the entire night had been leading up to. “You know, if you lose all that chub, I don’t know if I’ll be able to get as turned on as I did tonight. We might not be able to do it so well.”
It wasn’t a lie. He meant it completely.
“You don’t really think so, do you?” There was a hint of alarm in her voice. Just a bit. It was exactly what he was hoping for.
“Well, I mean, I’ve never been with a skinny girl. Like an actual skinny girl. You were already chubby when we met, remember? I’ve never tried it, so I dunno if I could.”
She tried to reassure him. “Oh babe, you know how I am. I’ll never be one of those fashion magazine girls that can hide behind a light pole. I just, you know, wanna get rid of a bit of it. Enough that I can see my feet to paint my toenails.”
“I just worry you’ll lose too much.”
“Aww, come here.” She kissed him. “I won’t. I’ll always keep a bit of jiggle for you.”
He hated having to be like this. But he reminded himself it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his wife’s fault, either. It was those god damn social media influencers and the grocery store fashion magazines. They’d made this mess, and now he had to clean it up. If any of their buildings ever caught fire, they better not expect him to rush in to put it out.
Tuesday was Hux’s second day off (he did 24 on, 48 off), so he could have slept in. But he made sure to get up before Melissa, so he could wake her up with the smell of cooking bacon. Petty? Yes. Necessary? Yes. In a crisis, it took courage to make difficult choices. It wasn’t exactly two people hanging from a bridge and he could only save one, but pretty close. Their sex life, their happiness, their entire marriage were possibly on the line.
Best case scenario, she’d come into the kitchen and help herself, the diet over before it even began. If not, well it was another reminder of the bacon-free life she had to look forward to. He felt a slight bitterness in his chest as he worked at the stove. You want to be like those beanpoles on the magazines? Eating Styrofoam packing peanuts and asking waiters how many calories are in their water, fine. No bacon then.
It worked. The scent of the bacon was like in those old cartoons where it turned into a beckoning hand. Melissa shuffled into the living room wearing her fuzzy monster slippers and nightgown made to look like a kimono. “Mmm, that smells good.”
“You want some? There’s plenty.”
It might have taken her brain a few seconds to turn on and remember she was meant to be on a diet, because she opened her mouth to say yes, before quickly saying no.
“With the way you cook? You know I can’t.”
And he’d melted half a stick of butter into the pan to give it an extra flavor kick. Oh well, looks like they’d be doing it the hard way. He’d finish off the bacon himself and hit deadlift later. Honestly, he was impressed she could still walk after last night.
There was very little in their fridge that could be called ‘healthy’, and Hux watched with silent concern as Melissa grabbed what little she could find. A couple of apples and an orange, and a few little tubs of Greek yogurt. That wouldn’t be enough to keep a child fed.
He was hit with a dilemma. He knew how to diet. He knew how to exercise and how proper nutrition worked. So he knew that the absolute wrong way to start a diet was how Melissa was doing it. You don’t just go cold turkey and jump straight in the deep end. Did he tell her? If he kept quiet, she might just find it so miserable she’d give up on her own. But on the other hand, she might actually hurt herself if she didn’t eat properly.
No, absolutely not. Melissa Huxley, the woman who stayed behind at school to help kids with autism, who cried at those animal rescue commercials where the cat and dog came out wearing cute little casts on their paws, who sang Kate Bush in the shower and didn’t care if anyone heard her. She would be getting absolutely no ‘tough love’. Not now, not ever.
“Mel, that’s nowhere near enough food for the day. You’re gonna get sick and pass out if you don’t eat properly.”
She looked apologetic. Like she was sorry for how stupid she was. Seeing that expression—Hux felt like someone was using his heart to play softball. Look at what this diet crap had already done. He wrapped his big arms around her.
“I’m not as good at this as you are,” she said quietly. She was shorter than him, and her head rested against the white patch of fur on his chest.
“And you know a dumbwad like me could never do your job, either. The kids are lucky to have you.”
“What kind of example am I setting for them, though? Being as fat as I am.”
“You’re showing them that how you look doesn’t change what kind of person you are. You’re smart, you’re nice, you work hard. Who cares if you’re fat?”
She gave him a playful slap on the chest, “You do, you big jerk.”
Touché on her part.
A week later, and Hux was at his wits end. Operation Diet Destruction had stalled out and he was pinned down on the beach going nowhere. He’d been biding his time, expecting Melissa to just give up on her own and act like nothing ever happened. That was how it had played out the last few times she’d tried dieting. Hell, in the rebound period afterwards, she’d gone into binge mode and actually gained weight.
But this time something felt different. She’d never lasted this long before. As far as he knew, she hadn’t slipped up once. Not even one snack when she thought he wasn’t looking (and he was always looking). She took salads to work, ate grilled chicken for dinner, in the mornings he could hear her on the treadmill in their garage. This had to stop. Otherwise she might actually start losing weight.
Well alright, maybe she could keep doing yoga in front of the TV, he liked seeing her do that. Her big fat butt stretching and bending in all those poses in her tight little leggings. But only if she ate ice cream afterwards.
He’d come home a few days ago and watched her in the bedroom from the hallway when she didn’t know he was there. She’d been trying to squeeze into a pair of old black jeans. A zen-like wave of calm had washed over Hux when he saw it was clearly hopeless. They weren’t even getting over her butt, let alone the final boss of her love handles and gut. But what about tomorrow? Or next week? Would he come home one day and find her fitting into them? First they’d go all the way up, then in time they’d button, and finally...God, he didn’t even want to think about what came after.
Today, Melissa was at work and Hux had the house to himself. All the shades and curtains were drawn, the doors locked, his phone off. He was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor in a circle of plain white, unscented candles. Their flames danced and flickered across his face and his antlers cast shadows on the wall. His face was painted white to look like a skull. Not a perfect job, but considering he had to do it himself in the bathroom mirror with a tutorial video open on his phone, it was as good as could be expected.
He held a hand-wrapped cigarette that he had lit on one of the candles. It wasn’t filled with tobacco, God no. He wouldn’t put that filth into his temple. No this was the stuff his grandmother made. A one-way ticket to the spirit world. He didn’t need guidance often, but he needed it now.
Hux took a long drag and immediately went into a coughing fit—expelling a sparkling silver cloud of smoke. He coughed so much his face felt tight and his forehead veins stuck out. He’d seen the old-timers do it in ceremonies and they made it look easy. God, he’d smoke a lot of weed in high-school and it never knocked him on his ass like that. Maybe he was getting old. He was in his early 30s after all.
When the coughing finally subsided, he was left sitting there wondering what to do next. Should he take another hit? Or just wait. He’d never actually done his own spirit trip before. So—
The thought was interrupted as the floor beneath him suddenly gave way. The carpet turned to quicksand and he let out a surprised scream as he sank helplessly down.
Hux landed on his butt—hard enough to give him a jolt.
He was in a forest clearing. A dense, ancient-looking forest. The trees were so thick and overgrown it was like being surrounded by a solid wall. It was night, and the moon was full. So full it seemed like you could have built a bridge to it from Earth. There was absolute silence. No birds chirping or insects buzzing. He could feel himself breathing, but it didn’t make any sound.
Trying to stand, he felt like his legs weren’t there and he fell back down. It was like when you sat for too long and had to slap your feet to get blood flow back.
Towering figures began to appear around him. Deer and doe, but none of them seemed to have a discernible gender. Some wore robes and hoods, others were naked and covered in war paint. Their bodies were all a sparkling, translucent green that you could see through. Their eyes glowed pure white.
“A young buck seeks clarity.”
It was said as a statement rather than a question—by a figure with twisted antlers taller than a grown man. There were bells and charms and lengths of rope tied between them. Their voice echoed and sounded both male and female.
Hux gazed up at them in awe. He must have looked like some kind of slack-jawed idiot. “Are you my ancestors?” he finally asked. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“We are the oldest roots in the tree of our kind. A troubled soul bows before us. Lost in uncertainty like a moonless night.”
Hux just assumed they knew everything and launched into his plea with no explanation. “It’s my wife. She hates her body and wants to go on a diet. She won’t listen to me and I don’t know how to help her.”
“She turns away your offerings. Were a long winter to come, she would disappear with the snow.”
“I’ve tried to tell her about the old ways. How it’s supposed to be. It’s not my fault,” he pleaded. “The world is different, everyone’s got smart phones and—”
A booming voice interrupted him. “In a time of famine, my three wives grew to the size of legend by my own hand. Yet in your age of abundance you have failed. Are our ways truly known to you, I wonder.”
“Tell me what to do then,” he begged, his hands clasped. “A trick, a secret recipe, anything. Maybe you guys could talk to her?”
“Time erases everything, and rebuilds it anew in the endless cycle of the universe. Nothing that is will remain so. Do nothing.”
Hux felt a flash of anger and couldn’t believe himself. The idea that he would so much as raise his voice to them. Instead he whimpered out “I don’t understand. If I do nothing and my wife loses weight I won’t want her sexually anymore. Our marriage will fail.”
“One needs wisdom and intelligence more than speed to gallop through the eternal forest. Our answer is unchanging. Do nothing.”
They started to fade away.
“WAIT,” he cried out, reaching a hand towards them, “I don’t—”
And it was all gone.
When Hux came to, he was in their backyard. Naked, holding a garden hose—trying to water the air-conditioning unit. It was probably around noon, judging by the position of the sun. His face paint had mostly melted off and ran down his chest. There were leaves and twigs stuck in his fur and his mouth tasted like he’d been eating dirt.
Hmm, it now occurred to him why they did that ceremony in groups.
So what the hell was “do nothing” supposed to mean? He didn’t have a clue. “Tie her to a chair and put a piping bag full of frosting in her mouth” would have been nice. He certainly would have understood those instructions.
The next step actually came to him in the place most good ideas do, the shower. As he was washing the crud and paint off himself, he thought “If Melissa won’t listen to me, maybe she’ll be more convinced by another woman.”
My God, man, that’s it. All these skinny influencer slut buckets are women, what she needs is another woman to tell her it’s okay to be fat.
He rushed naked out of the shower—leaving a trail of water on the floor behind him, and found his phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Stan and Felicia Southerland.
It took a while for someone to pick up. It didn’t occur to Hux that it was the middle of the day and they were probably at work.
“Hux, buddy, what’s up?”
“Oh hey, Stan. You’re not busy, are you?”
“I mean, I’m probably supposed to be.” He laughed.
“Just wondering if you and Felicia wanted to go out with us for dinner tonight. I was thinking that burger place with the scale out front.”
He sounded excited. “Oh, Big Boy’s Grill? Hell yeah, man. You finally convince Melissa to start putting on a few pounds?”
“No, sadly I’ve got the complete opposite problem. She’s got it in her head she should be on a diet. I was hoping if Felicia talked to her she’d you know, give it up.”
“Oh for sure, man. Yeah if she needs a bit of convincing, we can absolutely help. What time?”
“Tonight at 7:30 alright? That’s not too short notice?”
“Nah, that’s fine. We’ll meet there.”
“Alright, I’ll let you get back to the work you’re not doing.”
He laughed again. “Yeah well, we’re not all cut out to be firefighters.”
Hux hung up. It took a few seconds for him to think maybe he should have confirmed it with Melissa before making plans. Oh well. He called her and thankfully she agreed. It would have been pretty awkward otherwise. He told her they were going with Stan and Felicia, and was relieved that there wasn’t any trepidation about it. He didn’t say which restaurant, though. That definitely would have blown his cover.
They were a feeder couple he’d met through Fur and Fat.org, a forum he was a regular on. It turned out they were in the same city and close enough they could get together occasionally. Stan was a hedge fund manager, and his wife was a high-end real estate agent. Think luxury condos and mansions. That was to say, they were a lot richer than Hux and Melissa. They were good people, though. Fun loving and not stuck up in the slightest. Real dyed-in-the-wool fetishists, too. Not just the occasional stuffing or the same ten pounds gained and lost. They posted regular updates, and in just under three years, Felicia had put on over 70 pounds and wasn’t slowing down at all. He was a wolf (kind of a cliche for the work he did) and she was an arctic fox.
He spent the rest of the day just killing time until Melissa got home. This whole thing was giving him brain fog and making it hard to think. Everything just felt fuzzy (and not in the good way like his wife’s backside). He got in a half-hearted workout, watched TV, did some chores and cleaning up. He felt a little better after he laid back on the couch and jerked off to the video he took of Melissa last night.
You might expect some cliche where he went out and bought a truckload of snacks and fattening foods to stock the fridge with, but he didn’t need to. Their fridge was still full of it. This diet thing wasn’t even 24 hours old yet, but it felt to Hux like it had been going for weeks—and he wasn’t even the one doing it.
When Melissa came in at around 5 PM, Hux was shocked. God, she looked terrible. She seemed exhausted, lethargic, with her shoulders slumped and her posture bent all out of whack. There were dark puffy bags under her eyes and her hair was frayed.
His shock quickly turned to anger. “God damn it, I told you this would happen,” he wanted to shout at her.
He wanted to shout at her. His wife. What the fuck was all of this doing to him?
Instead he rushed over and squeezed her in a tight, protective hug. Nothing bad was getting past him to hurt her. Not in that moment. She softened against him. He could feel the tension releasing from her body. Neither of them said anything for a while. They just stood there in each other’s arms.
“How was it?” Hux finally asked.
“Awful.”
Of course it was. The women you’re trying to be like haven’t known a day of happiness in their entire lives.
“What are you gonna do?” Please just say you’ve had enough. One day was a pretty good run.
“Keep at it. It’ll probably be easier tomorrow.”
Hux was on the verge of shedding his antlers from the stress.
“You can’t do this to yourself again. What about the kids at school? They need you at your best.”
He saw on her face for a brief moment that he’d gotten through to her. She was willing to treat herself like a doormat, but her job meant everything to her.
“I better get ready if we’re going out,” she said, and went to take a shower.
He watched her go. She didn’t look any smaller, at least. That butt wobble he absolutely adored was still there. If it went away, he might end up biting someone.
After a long, hot shower, and some cajoling to get her to please eat something (a box of flavor bitz cheddar cheese crackers) Melissa perked up quite a bit. She still wasn’t fully herself, but Hux was just relieved she wasn’t gonna drop to the floor.
“So how was your day?” she asked.
“Uh, just relaxed mostly. Did some weights, the laundry. Nothing much.”
The place was buzzing. They served alcohol, had outdoor dining and it was summer, so the atmosphere was more like a party than a restaurant. Groups of people mingled in the parking lot, drinking beers and talking. A huge red and white neon sign announced Big Boy’s Grill, and there was a statue of an obese fox wearing red denim overalls holding up a plate of burgers in one hand lit up like a Christmas tree.
Hux would never even in his worst nightmares have considered being unfaithful to Melissa, but god damn, the pictures online didn’t do Felicia Southerland justice at all. She must have been into the 300s by now. When you’re in the weight lifting mindset, everything starts to look like a weight, and he was curious if he could have lifted her. He decided it would probably be better not to ask, though. Both because it would have been weird, and his ego couldn’t stand the hit if it turned out he couldn’t.
Melissa was wearing a loose, baggy sleeveless floral dress. Felicia in comparison had on a hot pink, almost body-sock/dress sort of thing. It was one solid piece, and left practically nothing to the imagination. Every single pound of her had nowhere to hide, and that was obviously the idea. She had the goods and wanted to show them off. If Hux had the slightest understanding of fashion, he might have thought the pink didn’t go well with her snow-white fur.
It was doing things to Stan as well (who was in a buttoned-up Hawaiian shirt, shorts and sandals. Honestly you could have probably shown up naked and they wouldn’t have kicked you out). Over the course of the night, he gave her quite a few slaps on the butt, and impromptu belly squeezes.
Melissa was cool about it, even though they were much more Hux’s friends than hers. And obviously she didn’t share the kink that they and her husband did.
Ah yes, the aforementioned scale. It was a huge metal platform outside the entrance with a big digital display overhead and loudspeakers set up. Anyone who was brave enough to stand on it would have their weight broadcast to everyone in earshot. There were signs around announcing “OVER 300 POUNDS EAT FREE. OVER 600 GO ON THE WALL OF FAME.” People went up there and posed for pictures with their number. Fat guys and gym bros stood proudly, while heavier gals went up, and then quickly giggled and rushed off as soon as their number was announced—like they were doing something naughty.
“What do you say, honey? Wanna eat free?” Stan asked Felicia. He sent her up with a good slap on her backside and they both giggled like school kids.
“313.4 pounds” the speakers blared out. Felicia cheered, grabbed her belly and gave it a shake. A little kiosk printed out her ticket for free dinner.
There was a table full of guys in trucker hats nearby, and one of them said “Damn, need me a girl that can eat like that.” And they all laughed.
Stan elbowed Hux. “Not bad, huh? Did I tell you she could put it away or what?”
“I wish I had your confidence,” Melissa said.
Felicia had a sympathetic tone. “Oh babe, you’re absolutely gorgeous. You just gotta rock what you’ve got.” Hux and Stan both made noises of agreement.
Hux glanced at Melissa, and the look she gave back made it clear she didn’t want to do it. So Hux went up himself.
“221.5 pounds”
He gave an almighty flex, slapped his chest, then turned around and flexed again from the back. “How am I looking, Mel?”
“Like a big side of beef hanging in a freezer,” she teased.
“I’ll take that. Not eating free yet, but gimme a little while. Your big boy’s not done growing.”
“Try growing something besides your ego, meathead.”
They went inside, Felicia gave her ticket at the counter, and they found their seats. It was one of those faux-rustic places with booth seating, miniature cacti on the tables and all sorts of random crap on the walls. The menu read like it was written by someone on too many energy drinks. “TRIPLE BACON BURGER EXPLOSION” “BOTTOMLESS ULTRA SPICY NIGHTMARE CHILLI FRIES” “THE PANTS SPLITTER” Then as you got further down, almost like they were ashamed it was on there, were salads, vegan wraps, pasta dishes, that sort of thing.
“So what are you guys having,” Hux asked.
“Well we come here all the time,” Stan said, “and I usually just tell the waitress “fill ‘er up.”
That got a laugh out of everyone, even Melissa, who was still kind of in a sulking mood. Hux knew what the deal was.
“I know what you’re doing,” she was thinking. “and I love you enough to let you try it. But you’re not going to convince me. Even with help from your pervy friends.”
The waitress was a gray-furred kangaroo. Didn’t see many of them in this country. “You guys ready to order?”
Stan was right out of the gate and answered for both he and Felicia. “I’ll have the porterhouse, medium, with cheese fries and a coke.” He patted his wife on the shoulder, “She’ll have the triple-decker beef burger, extra mayo, cheese fries, a side of nachos. Large pitcher of thick shake to drink. For dessert, we’ll have the black forest cake. bring it out at the same time, we won’t be waiting.”
Stan was one of the nicest guys you’d ever meet, but man, the way he talked you would have had him pegged as an absolute sleazebag. As for Felicia, she’d already had a tight squeeze getting into the booth, and there was just barely clearance between her gut and the edge of the table. By the end of the night, the staff would probably be greasing her up to get her unstuck.
“I’ll have the Hellfire burger and cheese fries for the side” Hux said. “And coke as well.”
The waitress looked hesitant. “Are you sure, sir? I promise the name Hellfire isn’t just a gimmick.”
He looked her straight in the eyes, “Ma’am, I’ve never not been sure of anything in my entire life.”
She rolled her eyes and wrote it down. Then she got to Melissa, who was studying the menu like she was about to be quizzed on it. “Decided yet, hon?”
Caesar salad and garlic bread. And diet coke.”
The waitress chuckled. “Don’t tell me your fella’s got you on a diet?”
“Absolutely not” Hux blurted out reflexively.
Melissa gave him an unamused look.
Their food arrived quickly, considering how much of it there was. It smelled delicious and looked better. If a diet was going to fail anywhere, this was the place.
You might have expected Felicia to just go nuts and start shoveling food in, but actually she was pretty reserved. Eating more like it was a scientific procedure than a race to the finish line. A bit of this here, a bite of that there, a quick drink, back to eating. As Hux watched, he realized that this was a practiced skill. Fullness wasn’t the point, the point was to get as much in as she was physically able to. And that meant a measured approach. It wasn’t like the stuffing porn he watched, this was a real woman really trying to get fat (fatter that is).
Melissa, meanwhile, treated her salad as if she was afraid it was going to attack her—taking little nibbles, pushing it around with her fork. Hux could hear her stomach growling. His burger was slightly smaller than his head, and dripping with some kind of orange sauce. He sniffed at it, it smelled almost fruity. He took a bite.
His eyes shot wide open like he’d just woken up from a nightmare.
His ears were ringing.
Eyes filling with tears, nose running.
Fight or flight response kicking in. Alarm rising by the second—4,5,6...
Melissa put a hand gently on his shoulder, “Babe, are you alright?”
He let out some sort of high-pitched squeak like a toy reinflating after you squeezed it. He gestured by putting up on hand, and rushed in the direction of the bathroom. Stan being the loyal friend he was, followed after him.
“God, he’s an idiot,” Melissa said, sipping her diet coke.
Felicia smiled, “you must love him a lot.”
“With every fiber of my being. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“Best not to find out then.” She took a bite of a cheese fry.
“How do you do it?” Melissa asked.
“Do what?” Felicia had lifted the top bun of her burger and put a handful of fries on before she took a bite.
“You know,” she gestured to her pink outfit, “Show off. Let everything out.”
“It turns me on,” she answered nonchalantly.
“Wish it turned me on,” Melissa said in a sort of longing way. “That’d make everything so much easier.”
“Oh, right. That diet thing. Stan told me Hux told him. It’s causing friction between you two?”
“We’re both trying our best, but yeah, it is. That’s the whole reason Hux brought me here. He thinks he can make me see the light. Just give up and be a big couch potato slob he can just put food into.”
Felicia drained most of her glass of shake in one gulp and refilled it. “Baby, I live that life. Trust me, it’s pretty great.”
“But I’m not like you.”
“You’re how I used to be, you know that? I’ve had this...kink, fetish, whatever you want to call it, since I was ten years old. But until I met Stan, I was too afraid to do anything about it. I kept it buried. Wished I could just get rid of it.
“I don’t have some secret buried desire to be fat, though.”
“You like eating though, right?”
Melissa blushed. “I mean, look at me.”
“Oh I’m looking. And let me tell you, girl to girl, your body’s a total knockout. Absolutely gorgeous curves.”
She laughed shyly and played with a strand of her hair. “You sound like Hux.”
“And you hate exercising?”
There was a pause.
“Be honest. Come on, we’re friends.”
“Yeah. God I hate it.”
“Sounds like maybe you are meant to be a couch potato then.”
Melissa took a drink of her coke, “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just wish it didn’t have the, you know,” she poked a finger into her belly, “consequences.”
Felicia laughed and slapped her own belly, making it wobble considerably. “Oh but the consequences are the best part. I love feeling naughty just being my big old fat self.”
Melissa didn’t say anything. She just plucked a cherry tomato out of her salad and took a bite.
Felicia’s tone changed. She sounded completely serious. “Look, bottom line is, I always knew what I wanted. I knew what felt right, I just didn’t want to admit it. You know in your heart what feels right to you. If that means being skinny, do it. But if for even a second it doesn’t, just know you can stop.
And I’ll take you out for all-you-can-eat donuts,” she added.
Melissa laughed. “Yeah, alright.”
“And I meant what I said, you’re an absolute nine. Nine and a half, even. If you and Hux were up for it, me and Stan would have a foursome with you guys any day of the week.”
Melissa was drinking her coke and almost swallowed her drinking straw. “Alright, well it was MOSTLY a good conversation.”
Hux and Stan returned a while later and sat down like nothing had happened. He looked like he’d been sprayed with mace.
“Babe, you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah,” he squeaked out, and took another bite of his burger. “Just caught me by surprise, that’s all,” he said with his mouth full.
The rest of the evening was a great time. They talked about their lives, their jobs, the state of the world and society. Hux had plenty of exciting stories of saving people from burning buildings. A lot more than Stan had from his hedge fund job. The girls got several drinks deep, while the guys were their designated drivers. Hux didn’t feel the need to tell Melissa just how ridiculously fattening alcohol was. Why ruin her fun? The topic of diet didn’t come up again.
As the night went on, a steady stream of food was brought to Felicia. She never seemed to hit her limit. Hux had been right, it was a method she and Stan had patented. The point was the journey, not the destination. That was to say, eat more, slowly, over a longer period of time, rather than cramming it all in at once. And as the journey continued, Felicia’s gut encroached further and further across the table, until you could have rested a plate on top of it. The belches she let out almost blew their drinks over.
Dinner really only ended when she was well and truly done. Then the inevitable happened.
Hux and Melissa stood, Stan followed. Felicia tried, letting out a grunt of exertion.
She didn’t budge.
She tried again and went nowhere.
“Uh, guys?” She reached her arms out helplessly towards them. She looked like a big pink gumball in that dress. There was more of her gut on top of the table than not by that point. Her butt was squeezed in so tight—her upper back wasn’t even touching the seat.
Hux and Stan smiled at each other and both rolled up their sleeves. They each took one of her arms and heaved.
Her white fur was turning red from the exertion. Melissa tried to give them advice, suggesting different angles and leverage, but her knowledge of elementary school physics wouldn’t get the job done. This was man’s work.
Inch by inch she slid across the seat, until finally she came free like a cork out of a wine bottle—her gut no longer supported by the table flopping down in one big motion.
Hux was rock hard, undoubtedly Stan was too. It wasn’t clear what Melissa was feeling. Maybe worry. Like she was seeing into her possible future. That could be her wedged in there one day if she kept gaining at the rate she was. It never occurred to Hux that this whole night might have had the complete opposite effect that he wanted.
Felicia was glowing. “Mmm, first time that’s happened.”
“Won’t be the last though, will it, babe?” Stan slapped her on the butt hard enough that she arched forward. She gave a naughty little giggle and they had their paws all over each other—making out in a way that made it clear that wasn’t all they’d be doing tonight.
Hux and Melissa gave each other a smile indicating it was time for them to go.
Stan took his tongue out of his wife’s mouth for a second to ask them, “Me and the wife are gonna hit up that 24-hour donut place. You guys wanna come?”
Melissa thought of Felicia’s earlier ‘offer’ and answered before Hux could. “Nah, it’s late and we’ve both got work tomorrow. We better get home. Life in your 30s, am I right?”
Stan laughed, “Yeah, don’t I know it.” (Did he know it?) “Well this was a blast. Let’s catch up again soon.”
They said their goodbyes.
They were quiet on the drive home. Eventually it was Melissa who spoke first. She was leaning her head against the door and her eyes were closed. She’d always been a lightweight in that sense, at least.
“I know you think you’re trying to help. It didn’t work.” She was usually nonconfrontational. But a bit of liquid courage and she’d tell it to you straight.
“Mel, I just want you to stop hating yourself.”
“You just wanna get your rocks off.”
“You know, the two aren’t mutually exclusive,” he protested. “ I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
“Well I can’t. And you’re not the one who has to look in the mirror every morning and see a big fat blob staring back at you.”
“See what I mean? If anyone talked about you the way you talked about yourself, I’d punch them.”
“Look, stop trying to talk me out of it, alright? I’m dieting and that’s it. I might lose weight, I might give up tomorrow, who knows? But let it be up to me. I’m not like your friends. I’m not into what they’re into. Being fat just feels gross to me.”
Hux was quiet for a while. “Alright,” he finally said. And that was the end of it. Somewhere his ancestors were crying.
Tuck and roll out of the car. Go off the grid and live in the woods. Find a girl who’ll do it with you and get as fat as you want.
From that point on, neither of them spoke about it. It was just the elephant in the room of their otherwise happy life. Melissa at least didn’t starve herself. She locked in and did it the right way. No pushing herself to the breaking point, no steamed vegetables. Just a steady calorie reduction and avoiding the most obviously unhealthy junk she used to indulge in. She knew exactly how Hux felt on the matter, and so never bragged to him about how the number on the scale had gone down, how well her clothes were fitting, anything like that. She tried to spare him as best she could. They still had regular sex, and while it never was as good as it had been when she was at her peak weight, it was at least serviceable. Underneath the fat Melissa turned out to still have a natural pear shape that she rather enjoyed.
From Hux’s perspective, imagine seeing someone over the course of several months slowly burn a classic work of art. All he could do was grit his teeth and take comfort in the fact that he was happy she was happy. Even as he felt like a total failure. If he’d loved her even a fraction less than he did, he probably would have walked out. But what could he do? He was one man standing against the tide of modern society. “Thin was in” so they said. God, he needed a time machine. Their marriage survived, but it still felt like something was missing. He never did find out how much she lost exactly. It must have been a lot, though.
Meanwhile on the forum, Felicia and Stan proudly announced that she had crossed the 350 pound threshold.
About six months later, Hux was in the bathroom brushing his teeth when he heard a scream from the living room. He raced out. “What’s the matter, what happened?” he demanded.
Melissa was curled up on the couch, crying. She pointed at her phone on the floor. She must have thrown it.
Hux picked it up—and saw the article she’d been reading. “Fat Girl Fall” it said. “10 reasons why Big and Beautiful is in this season.” It showed a very overweight, stylish-looking Fox woman kneeling in a carpet of leaves in a forest. She was wearing a string bikini that may as well have not even existed it covered so little.
“What’s the problem? You don’t look anything like that anymore.”
“Look at what they’re saying,” Melissa sobbed.
He scrolled through the comments.
“God, she’s so hot.”
“Look at that soft belly.”
“I wish my girlfriend looked like that.”
On and on it went. There were dozens of similar articles. “Why Fat is the new skinny this year” “Thinfluencer model explains why she’s now packing on the pounds” “Top tips to get fat fast and keep it on”
Melissa lifted her sweater and showed her flat, white-spotted tummy. “All the girls at work are talking about it, too. It’s everywhere. Did I do all this work for nothing?”
He recoiled like a vampire from a crucifix at the sight of her ab definition. “Yes” the asshole in him wanted to say. Instead he sat down next to his wife and put his arm around her. “Oh honey, of course not. You look...thin. You’re...healthy...” He was never a theater kid.
She was sobbing hysterically. “You’re gonna hate me for this.”
“Oh I could never hate you.”
“Could you, you know, help me look like the women in those articles? You know how to do it, right? Since you’re into it. You and your friends share recipes online and stuff? Maybe just an extra ten or fifteen pounds.”
A Grinch-like smile spread across Benjamin “Hux” Huxley’s face at those words. Somewhere from the eternal forest, his ancestors were smiling at him.