The Nurse: One Year On - Part 1

The route through the seemingly endless maze of corridors left me somewhat surprised. My return invitation to the Government Testing Facility from Isabella led me to believe that I would once again be heading to one of the staff accommodation blocks, but instead all signs - quite literally - pointed to the testing suites.

Escorting me through the labyrinth of secretive, concrete corridors was a tall, willowy nurse, with long, slim legs and an impressive stride. Her loose, low ponytail of straight, blonde hair swished and swayed with purpose as she almost galloped ahead.

“I've known Isabella for years,” the nurse commented, glancing over her shoulder as I trailed behind, “she's one of the most knowledgeable nurses here, in my opinion. Not that she's really a full nurse anymore, as such. I think the facility is already missing her… input, as it were? It's complicated…”

As we marched past doorway after mysterious doorway, I did my best to catch a glimpse of the names and subject numbers attached to them. There was a Lucinda something, and on another, a something Smithson, and I wondered what was happening to each and every subject behind these sealed doors.

“Did you ever meet Hope?” my courier continued, “Good grief, she got really, really big! She was one of Isabella's. Being fed completely blind in the end - I mean without any data - and eventually broke The Facility record by a good amount. It was incredible to behold! Isabella always says that if she hadn't been distracted by her own plans so much, Hope could've gained a little more. I'm not so sure though…”

Before I could question Isabella's plans, it even Hope’s fate, we stopped abruptly outside a pair of sturdy double doors. The name plate read ‘Beauchamp, Isabella Felicity - Subject 707811’ in a humourless, factual typeface. My questioning eyebrow went unnoticed by the nurse. Instead, she dipped forward and held her I.D. card, fastened around her neck by a lanyard, up to the security lock. It buzzed with cheerful satisfaction, and I was shown into the suite.

The room was similar, at least in size, to how I remembered Isabella’s comfortable staff apartment. The layout, however, was more sparse, more open, and it seemed to consist of just two rooms. The room I currently stood in was largely void of furniture - there was no kitchen island, no coffee table and only a pair of functional chairs, one of which was nestled under a small table against a wall, the other next to the huge, heavy duty bed that dominated the one end. Looming in the corner was a sturdy looking hoist, and closer to the bed was the now unmistakable silhouette of a feeding pump - significantly smaller than some of the examples I had encountered on my previous visit, however it was still substantial.

At the other end of the room was another double doorway, a heavy, opaque shower curtain obscuring the view inside. From behind the curtain, sounds of running water and splashing could be heard, along with giggles and breathless, inaudible dialogue between at least two people. To the left of the door stood a functional kitchenette that looked more suited for meal preparation than actual cooking. To the other side of the door rested an aching sofa, its cushions collapsed and frame slightly out of square. 

Whilst we stood by the doorway waiting - waiting for something - the tall blonde nurse spoke in a hushed whisper, leaning with a difficult bend of her body toward my ear, “Of course, plenty of us knew that Isabella wanted to be a gainer. You could just tell. You could tell by the way she looked at her subjects, you could tell by the way she talked about it. You could tell that she wouldn't be satisfied with her body until she packed every last ounce she could onto it. There's obsessive, and then there's Isabella!”

With that, we both hushed as the sound of running water turned to distant drips and drops. There were more giggles, then a pause, and then I spied a familiar face as the shower curtain was pulled back. It was Maisey, the young junior nurse that had been training under Isabella's guidance when I visited last. She hadn't changed much; her fiery ginger hair rebelled in a messy bun at the back of her head, and her figure remained thin and limby, for the most part. The only notable change I could make out was that her already oversized and weighty bust her grown larger and heavier still, now putting incredulous amounts of stress on the buttons of her water-splashed nurses tunic. As Maisey turned too the room, I couldn't help but stare at her nipples as they poked with clumsy, asymmetric charm from beneath the ill-fitting fabric. She glanced at me, catching my eye, before smiling and returning with concentration to her task. 

A hand, plump and chubby, reached out and grabbed onto the frame of the double door. There were quiet, almost whispered words of encouragement from Maisey, mirrored by breathless, inaudible replies. There were gasps and airless giggles, groans and shuffles, until one lumbering step after another, I was confronted by Isabella - and she was huge! 

Both Isabella and Maisey seemed to be able to read the incredulous look on my face, and in turn they both seemed to relish from it with a satisfied, almost smug smile. Whatever reaction they craved, I must have given it. 

“Give… a girl… a hand.” Isabella gasped, reaching out a heavy, chubby forearm, before addressing the tall, blonde Nurse, “Tamsin, you're… free to…go. If you could… bring the… the… surprise, that… would be… great…”

The huge woman's hair was only loosely towel dried, and its dark, mousey blonde strands stuck in damp, swirling clumps to her head. Her face was somewhat rounded with plump, flushed cheeks and a soft yet shapely chin. The thin, department-issued dressing gown did it's best to contain the enormous swell of woman, but only it's loosely tied belt met in the middle - not that it needed to hide much. A fattened pair of calves that overlapped Isabella's softened feet and threatened to touch the floor, rested at an awkwardly wide stance, even whilst standing. The calves, in turn, were shadowed by a vast, heaving pouch of lower belly that eagerly hung below her knees. Her breasts too sat with a lazy weight either side of Isabella's upper belly, pulling on the thick, fat padding of her upper chest. 

“Come… on…” Isabella barked in a breathless and somewhat playful tone. It was still clear from her manner that Isabella was very much in charge, at least for now. Tamsin’s comment about Isabella having her own plan seemed to make a fuzzy connection somewhere in my mind - it almost felt as if Isabella had become her own project. 

With Maisey taking the left arm, I took the right, squeezing onto the succulent, softened fat of Isabella's awkwardly hanging arm, as it fought for space with her burgeoning rolls of back fat and under-arm boob.

“To the… bed… please…” Isabella gasped, as she took one small, lumbering shuffle after another, swinging her hips almost violently in an attempt to move her giant, heavy legs. Each movement caused the huge, swollen swells of her obesity to sway, jiggle and slosh as she stumbled forward with exhaustion.

“You're… you're a little… earlier… than we expected,” Isabella rasped with an apologetic tone, “I was… was hoping to… be ready for… you…”

It took a full thirty-minutes to get Isabella onto her huge bed, with the reclusive hoist being called into action for the final manoeuvre. Gulping at the air, the willing gainer did her best to compose herself, adjusting herself and her robe as her overfed figure spread wide with impressive gravity. Her feet pointed east and west, as great banks of inner thigh and a mound of belly filled the space. Beneath the gown, large breasts slumped to either side of her chest, willing themselves to make contact with the rolling hills of hips and buttocks that slumped and basked beneath them.

As Maisey busied herself at the kitchenette, Isabella composed herself, and approached the question that she could probably tell had been written across my face over the past few days. Her speech was laboured and breathy, but her demeanor was still there, under all of that weight. 

“I suppose you're wondering why I invited you back? Why now? A couple of reasons, I suppose. Firstly, well, I thought you might find this interesting? From a journalistic standpoint, at least. The second reason is that it's a milestone of mine - or it was - about three days ago and, what with it being just over a year since your last visit I wanted to, I don't know, celebrate? Show off? Just change things up, maybe?”

“Oh, the milestone? Well, as I said, that was a few days ago, but I'm gaining like crazy right now and it can be hard to time it. I'm sure you don't mind too much, right? Anyway, it's a big one for me, and I’m so giddy about it, but I finally reached 1,000 pounds! The weighing scales fitted to the bed say… 1012 lbs, so, as you can see, I just kinda crushed it.”

As she spoke with an enthusiastic, but airless husk, I took every opportunity to glance over her enormous, heaving body in the bed before me. As she talked and gestured, pockets of delicate, succulent fat would jiggle and ripple. It was almost impossible for my mind to comprehend that the same comparatively slim, fast trotting nurse that had entertained me last year was no more buried beneath this monstrous amount of glistening fat.

“What does it feel like?” The ex-nurse reflected, mulling my question over with deep contemplation. Whilst she did so, Maisey dutifully returned from the kitchenette area with a towering platter of thick, weighty-looking chocolate chip cookies and a large beaker of milk. 

“It feels fantastic,” Isabella enthused, as she munched hungrily, crumbs cascading down her softened chin and onto the fattened chest below, “it's more incredible than I had ever imagined. Being able to just give in to that base desire to just eat, and eat, is like finding a kind of freedom that you never knew you needed. No social pressure, no criticism, no sizeism, nothing aside from the ability to just lay back, indulge and nourish the soul. I wish I had volunteered years ago, but I guess now I have plenty of experience on my side."

“That's the interesting thing about my journey, actually; whilst I'm not working as a Nurse in a traditional sense anymore, I am in charge of my own… development, I guess you could call it? That was one of the conditions stipulated when I put my name forward as a subject. That is also why I chose Maisey as my head nurse - I know full well that she isn't going to hesitate in feeding and fattening and pumping and stuffing me to my body’s absolute limit. Isn't that right Maisey?”

Maisey, who was busy attending to the feeding pump beside Isabella's bed, turned and gave a brief and shy, blushing smile accompanied by a cautious nod. She reached over and passed her feedee the large beaker of milk. With effort-filled movements of her heavy arms, Isabella swigged heartily, milk pouring down the sides of her mouth. She gasped for air, before handing the beaker back to Maisey, and busying herself with another cookie from the steadily dwindling plate.

“I've picked my team carefully,” Isabella continued between greedy mouthfuls of cookie, “with many of them being former colleagues, I suppose you could say. I know they're good, I know they're capable, and that's what matters when it comes to getting as big and fat as possible. Every little helps!”

With that, the ex-nurse polished off the final cookie and grabbed playfully at the side of her belly rolls, sighing with contentment as her eyes rolled back, fantasising about her future. 

“Over 800 pounds I've gained so far, in little over a year,” Isabella beamed with a satisfied grin, gesturing lazily with flicks of her chubby hands, “I want more though. I know I can get much, much, heavier. I can feel it. I just want to lay back, and watch my beautiful little body blow up like a gigantic, fattened balloon. That's all I can think about now -  I'm ready for it!”

“I'm gaining about three to four pounds a day right now, but we're hoping to consistently crack five pounds a day in the next couple of weeks. That's when things begin to get exciting, that's when the real gaining starts!”

For a moment I simply tried to take stock of the vast girl before me. I tried to imagine what it was like, being pinned to the bed with my own enormous weight, eagerly eating my independence away, and, not only that, but being actively excited about the very real prospect of more.

“Immobility?” Isabella tumbled in her mind, as the sound of Maisey making general preparations in the kitchenette clinked and clattered politely in the background, “Immobility is inevitable - it is pretty much a saying at this facility. For many of the subjects here it can be a frightening or upsetting transition, but in my eyes it is a badge of honour, a trophy, a medal of achievement that can only be obtained with a certain level of commitment. Well I miss walking? I already do - you've seen for yourself that even with the assistance of two other people, even a walk across this suite is a slow and exhausting process. It's a trade-off though; one freedom in exchange for another, that is how I've always seen it. Sure, I will miss a walk in the late summer breeze, or getting up and dressing in nice clothes, but I am also looking forward to stuffing and indulging myself, and watching how my body grows…”

A knock at the large double doors, and then the stout buzz of the intercom clipped the conversation. Maisey ceased her busywork, and opened both doors. Isabella’s heavy spread of belly gurgled in her thigh-filled lap. She smiled towards me with knowing eyes. 

Through the doors came a wide, stainless steel trolley, pushed by Tamsin, the tall and willowy nurse that had escorted me from reception earlier. Her cheeks were flushed, and understandably so, as the trolley was laden with an enormous, tiered chocolate-fudge cake that had already been pre-cut into generous, oozing slices.

Continued in... The Nurse: One Year On - Part 2