Trip to the Health Clinic.

A TRIP TO THE HEALTH CLINIC
Lexi sat uncomfortably in her slightly-too-small clothes on the examination table at her health clinic, holding her food journal in her hands nervously as one of the research fellows there took her vitals, measuring her blood pressure, body temperature, listening to her lungs and looking in her mouth and ears, all that normal stuff.
She hated going to the doctor, and she had her whole life. She had never been in great shape, even since she was a child, she was always the chubby one out. This was calling up all that anxiety inside of her, all of those feelings, which didn’t do much to lower her heart rate or blood pressure. The fellow sat in silence on the computer, entering the results and wrinkling his nose a bit at her smell, which was rather intense, enough to make most people’s eyes water. She didn’t shower that much, but…. It wasn’t that unpleasant, she thought… It was musky, feminine, and at least in her hopes, seductive.
He nodded at her as the time was completed, saying that he’d go bring in the real doctor as soon as she could. God, she really needed a fucking smoke, the red pack in her purse teasing her with its presence. She distracted herself by rubbing where the nicotine patch usually was on her arm, eyeing the smoke detector with nothing short of loathing. Her thoughts drifted to what she was going to eat when she got home, softly rubbing her fat middle as she imagined a galaxy of fast food entering her mouth, all of it greasy and salty and delicious.
She was quite big, at least compared to most girls, around two-hundred and sixty pounds, every one in excess pure, soft fat. She was an apple, her belly starting to fold over and go from a round gut to a double belly, but it hadn’t stopped her tits or ass from growing, too. She was covered in stretch marks, especially on her belly. They felt good under her fingers, like little exclamation marks on her fatness. She loved her size, and wasn’t going to listen to anyone who said that she needed to lose weight. She shook her head a little, happy to feel her chins jiggle…. That wasn’t something that she had to worry about any more.
She heard a knocking sound at the door, signaling that the doctor had arrived. “Come in.” she said, not wanting to waste time. The doctor was a tall, rail thin woman, about six feet tall with blonde hair that covered most of her back, and a barely-present chest. She looked kind, a bit older with some smile lines around her blue eyes, but still pretty in a mature way. She really wished that she wasn’t so damn hot to her, but she couldn’t help it. She was the best, and she wanted the best, not willing to compromise.
You see, she was at a very unusual kind of clinic, something that only existed right here, only possible in secret. It helped women like Lexi through a transition, a change in their lives that most would find disgusting and repulsive. She longed for what she had always been berated for, she wanted to show the world that she was in control and knew exactly what she wanted to be: She wanted to be fat. Not just fat, it was more complicated than that; she actively desired the health issues that were commonly associated with such size, masturbating at night thinking about her heart struggling to pump, clogged with fat, as she rode a cute guy’s cock… or a cute girl’s strap-on.
She shook the doctor’s hand, smiling at her as she took a seat on the normal stool. “Well, Miss Stephenson, first off, I’d like to congratulate you on your weight. Since I last saw you two weeks ago, you’ve gained fifteen pounds. That’s truly excellent progress, definitely. I’d like to take a look at your food journal, if you don’t mind.”
Lexi handed it over, a bit nervous. She was still understandably uncomfortable with parts of this, it didn’t seem even real, but… she was happily going along with it all the same. What was inside would have given most dieticians heart attacks, most meals bigger than someone should eat in a whole day, specifically chosen to pick only the worst foods imaginable, anything high in sugars and fats and salt and nasty chemicals put before anything that could even be mistaken for filling or healthy. She had even eaten a stick of butter with the pound of bacon, four slices of buttered toast, and pint of ice cream that had formed her breakfast this morning, which was a bit light by her standards, but she had woken up with a horrible stomach ache, super bloated and gassy and just… her stomach clearly unhappy with what it was being given. She wanted to ruin it. She wanted to ruin her whole body. She wanted to get so fat she couldn’t stand, not that her body could even hope to move all of her lard. She wanted her autopsy report to have the cause of death just be “food”.
Doctor Williams just flipped through, a soft coo passing her lips as she very much approved of what she found inside. “You’ve been doing a very good job, Lexi. I’m proud of you. You mentioned last time that you wanted to work on your smoking. Did you try what I advised?” Her advice was to start cycling nicotine patches, wearing them for five days at a time and smoking as much as she could with them to build up her tolerance and addiction, then spending two days without them, and without smoking a single cigarette, making sure to force herself into nicotine withdrawal over and over. She always kept her cigs with her, though, just to remind her of them, and make her want them more. It was working great. She had only been smoking for a month, and she was already consistently making it through a pack and a half a day, on the days that she smoked. Her personal goal was to slightly more than triple that, to smoke a hundred of the addictive sticks of tar and nicotine a day. She felt like she could already feel the effects on her lungs, but the doctor reminded her that that was probably just the placebo effect, that it would take months to years for even minor lung problems to develop, depending on the person and their intake.
The doctor moved on, taking a couple pages of lab results out of her chart and looking over them again. “Well, your fasting glucose was 107 milligrams per deciliter, which indicates that you’re starting to edge into pre-diabetes. That’s a really impressive showing for someone only a month into our program. Again, I’ve got to hand it to you for really showing a lot of dedication to getting the body that you want, the body that you deserve. I’m going to write you an insulin prescription right now, I want you to use it after every meal, titrate it until you start to feel really faint right after you take it but don’t pass out, and then you’ll want to… Well, I can either write you a prescription for sugar tablets, or you could just drink corn syrup… But what you want to do is get your blood sugar back up again. This will really damage your pancreas, both increasing your insulin resistance, and making your body’s natural production start to shut down. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was giving you a diagnosis of full fledged diabetes mellitus in just a few more visits if you’re diligent about this. Have you been using the skincare kit that I gave you? I mean, you look great, but I want to make sure that you’re doing everything that you can to help yourself out.”
It was a fairly comprehensive set of products, a cream that encouraged body hair growth and thickening, a wash that made her skin super greasy and pimply that she loved working into her face, ass, and around her pussy, and a thick, sweet substance that she used in her underarms and between her rolls to encourage
bacterial growth, to help her smell even better. She had also been using the mouthwash, a nasty acidic mess that had already stained her until-recently pearly white smile a sickly yellow, and was eating away at her enamel nicely, encouraging more bacteria to form cavities and give her better breath. She couldn’t wait until all of this was through, until she had the body that she wanted. “Yes, I have. I’m almost out of the hair growth and acne creams, actually. I’ve been using them more than you said, coating my arms and legs, up my belly a bit, and even a little on my nipples in addition to using the hair cream on my pussy and armpits. The acne cream goes pretty much everywhere, I love how nasty and red and greasy it makes my skin. I wish I could bathe in that stuff.” She flashed a nasty smile.
The doctor nodded, adding a couple more scripts to the pile. “I think that’s about it, Miss Stephenson, except for your progress picture. Remove all of your clothes, please.
She got up with a heave and a little grunt, doing it happily and without a second thought, peeling her sweaty outfit off, removing the tight belly shirt and asshugging shorts that she was wearing, revealing the lack of panties underneath. She really wanted big saggy tits, and giving up her bra was an important part of that. As for the panties, well… It was fun to have people smell how nasty her pussy was unfiltered out in public. She walked over to the wall, lifting up her gut a bit to better show off just how damn hairy she was, letting the picture get taken, and walking over to the good Doctor before she got dressed again, giving her a little kiss on the cheek. “I’d like to thank you so much. So so much.” She hugged her, releasing her from getting pressed up against her sweaty tits as she started to get dressed. “I’m wearing my clothes until they rip, I hope to be in a new outfit the next time I see you!”