The Nurse: An Interview of Extremes - Part 4

With Maisey preoccupied, tea was served by another member of staff. She entered the room, tea tray chirruping, with a pair of wide, heavy hips that I'm sure only just cleared the door frame. Her thick, bulky thighs fought for dominance, causing her to waddle with pleasing rhythm, and perhaps added to the chinking and chiming of the tea service. 

Her short, but well filled figure put significant strain on the pale nurses tunic in key places, whilst highlighting the rolls of a substantial belly and a proportionally modest, but still weighty bust. The short sleeves of the uniform squeezed the upper parts of her soft, supple arm fat just a little, too.

The plump, bright red cheeks of the server picked up hints of colour from her vibrant, red hair that had been pulled back into a neat, short, high ponytail. As the girl placed the tray down, her chest puffed from the mild exertion. As she served the tea, I watched with fascination as the straining tunic threatened to ride up over her enormous rump, and as she turned to leave, I could make out that the upper shelf of her huge bottom seemed to be almost halfway up her back.

The discussion between Nurse Isabella, and, as I learned, Nurse Gina, had been passing and tart. Isabella seemed to preempt my question somewhat, “She's not a junior. Gina works at the admin desk for this residential wing, and she hates getting off of her fat arse to make tea. Technically, it is in her job role if there's no one else to do it though. She's normally quite pleasant, just a bit salty that I've made her do something other than sit around and get fat, the lucky thing…”

“... When I say lucky,” Isabella caught herself, and eyed her words with caution, “I mean that, in a job role such as mine, it's almost impossible to put weight on. There is just far too much running around, too much activity. It's a busy schedule. Gina, however, spends all day sitting at that admin desk, nibbling at tid-bits that make their way up from the catering department and pumping up like a… like…”

There was a pause, and I could sense a rise in giddy apprehension coming from my host. Her eyes glistened.

“Do… do you know what I really want?”

For a moment I postured, rolling my gaze to the ceiling and pretending to guess, but in all honesty I was just keen to hear the answer. I had my suspicions already. 

Isabella leaned across the table and levelled her voice, “I just want… to get fat. That's all I want.”

My surprise was part genuine, but also part prepared. The busily illustrated journal in her bedroom had made it quite clear that her fascination with fat went both ways. Why the change of career though, as it were?

“I envy those girls so much,” the nurse responded, seemingly pleased to have received an interested response, rather than one of rejection, “and over the years, the urge to indulge just seems to get stronger. All they have to do is eat, and eat and gain and gain. No hassles, no responsibilities, no targets - just lay back, and let the world rush on by, whilst you do your thing.”

“I think I've got the figure for it too. In fact, I know I have.” Isabella confirmed, as she stood up with the squeak of her chair, and made her way towards a letter rack on the kitchen countertop. “I don't know what it is, but my body… my body just aches to be fattened. To be stuffed, and pumped and filled until it reaches its potential, and, well, I feel I've got potential - tons of it.”

The nurse placed a small selection of well-thumbed pieces of paper on the table before me. One was a letter, and the others contained graphs, charts and lists of data. She smiled with suppressed pride.

“Consider yourself privileged because, well, at this moment only myself and Maisey know about this.” As I leafed over the papers, she continued, “I decided a short while ago to take the leap, and undergo some tests and… and apply to become a gainer - a subject. That might sound crazy, but it is all I have thought about, dreamt about, for years now, and I feel if I leave it much longer I may live to regret it. It's rare they take on new subjects beyond their very early thirties.”

“That there… that's my letter of acceptance, “Isabella beamed, “and I'm set to start in two weeks - no, twelve days! I honestly can't wait! Neither can Maisey!”

“You see, I made a special request to have Maisey become my dedicated head nurse. No other distractions, just looking after me. I've seen what she's capable of; she's interested, dedicated and, most importantly, obsessed! So the department agreed, as long as she's still under my supervision, of course. Maisey doesn't actually know she'll be my dedicated nurse yet, but when we've talked and speculated about my ‘potential’ before, she certainly seems keen!”

As the nurse stood before me, talking and gesturing with animated energy, I tried to imagine what Isabella would look like with more and more weight gradually added to her modest, plump frame. As an estimate, she weighed a little over 180 pounds as she stood, yet my mind found it almost impossible to imagine that reasonably curvy figure of hers swelling to the size of most of the subjects I had seen earlier that day. However, as Isabella enthusiastically explained her results to me, she made sure to point out her impressive qualifying statistics. 

“Feeling like you want to get fat is one thing, but knowing that, at least on paper, your body has the potential, is another. My stats are actually better than most of the women that enter this facility, isn't that amazing?” Isabella quizzed rhetorically.

Through the window it was clear to see the pale orange light of the evening sun beginning to build. 

“I suppose we should make a move,” Isabella encouraged, still giddy with enthusiasm of her upcoming career change, “We’ll stop by and check in on Hope on the way out - I have had no further alerts.”

Holding the door open for me as we left the dimming apartment for the neon-lit corridors, the nurse eyed me up and down. She hesitated, and then said, “I'll make sure you get an invite to come back and visit again sometime - I can guarantee that there will be plenty more to see…”

Continued in... The Nurse: One Year On - Part 1