I didn’t see him for a few days, but he came into the gym, looked around, saw me, and made a beeline for me. I just hoped he wasn’t planning on punching me out or something, but all he did was tell me that he’d been…hypnotized. That I had to believe him. That he’d had no idea what he’d been doing–he’d thought he’d been at the gym the entire time. Apparently, he’d stumbled upon a website called the Fat Action Team, which claimed to be dedicated to helping men “Get Bigger,” which he’d thought was a reference to getting more built. I thought that was ridiculous, that if he wanted to gorge himself, that’s fine, I just didn’t get why he had to lie about it. I went back to my cycling, and then he…put a set of headphones on me, telling me that I’d understand if I just heard it…and I don’t…I don’t remember what happened after that, very well. I had a really good work out, I know that–both me and Jay did. He’s my workout buddy. We were both exhausted, but he gave me this website I really needed to check out–they make these awesome workout music mixes, he told me. In fact, he’d already referred me–all I had to do was enter the code, and they’d set me up with a custom mix for free. I took the card he gave me…and I already knew that as soon as I got home, I’d be on my computer getting my first mix–but at the same time, I had this…feeling. That…that I should be able to remember the last couple of hours better. That when I looked at Jay’s face, he had food crusted around his mouth–and my hands felt greasy, and my gut was grumbling–but I couldn’t quite tell if I was hungry, overstuffed, or just nervous for reasons I couldn’t quite explain.
Still, I signed in using the information Jay had given me, and all of those worries disappeared as soon as I heard the first track the training company sent me. I’d…I’d been looking for something like this, actually, something to help me take my training to the next level. I’d always wanted to be…to be bigger
yeah bigger fucking fat fucking so fucking fat I can’t see my cock so fat I can’t see my feet I wanna wheeze I wanna be stuffing my face all day long gotta be fat fat gotta eat gotta get big big gonna be fat pig gonna be fat
I shook my head–what the hell had that been? I looked at the clock, and I’d been listening to that file for quite a few hours–and my shirt was filthy, as was the desk. It looked like grease stains and…crumbs? I was probably just having a snack, I thought. Still, I needed to get to bed, so I could get to work.
Jay and I synced our workout schedules together, and both of us were definitely progressing well. It was so much better having someone to help you lift, you know? Someone else there, by your side, helping you get…get bigger, and watching them get bigger too. I was feeling ripped, and powerful. Hell, I had to buy a whole new wardrobe, can you believe it? Still, it was hard seeing progress in the mirror for some reason, but I kept getting comments from people at work–
“Have you been going to the gym?”
“Wow man, you look…different today.”
It always felt good, getting positive reinforcement from people like that, and I always had Jay. In fact, Jay and I started spending a lot more time together after a few months as workout partners. We didn’t really have much in common, I mean, aside from our training and desperate, crippling desire to get as big as possible, but the more I was with him, the more I kind of liked him. Sure, he was a bit of an asshole sometimes, and a braggart. It was pretty wearing, really, but since I usually had my earbuds in while we were together, I didn’t actually have to listen to him all that much. What I appreciated was his commitment, his desire to get bigger, and he was such a help, you know? I could have never done something like this on my own. I…I needed him, and he told me one night that he needed me too. We decided, then, that for the sake of our training, and to get even bigger, it would help if we just moved in together.
My place wasn’t that big, and I didn’t have a ton of stuff, so it was easier for me to just sell some of my stuff, cancel my lease, and move into his house one weekend. Fuck, that was a lot of work! You’d think that with all of our time at the gym we’d have no trouble moving a couch, but both of us were exhausted after that day. We were probably just tired from all the time we’d spent at the gym lately, getting bigger. We’d also started a calisthenics routine at his house in the evenings, so were working out twice as much!
It was a shock when I realized a year had passed since we’d both first started training together in earnest. It wasn’t too much longer after that one year anniversary that we both got an email from the training company, letting us know that we’d finally finished our first round of training! Included in the email was a final training lesson we needed to listen to–the company said it would help us reorient our worlds and self-perception, help us grapple with these new, bigger bodies we’d crafted for ourselves. Both of us were so excited, and we agreed to listen to it right away. The file was shorter than usual–but it was what happened when we both woke up which was the biggest surprise for us both.
Bracken's Corner 