All names and characters contained herein are fictitious and do not intentionally relate to any person, either living or dead. This story is a work of fiction, a fantasy, so read it with a grain of salt and an open mind.
Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Heather McCormick and I'm a thirty-something m.i.l.f. living in suburban Atlanta, Georgia. The story I'm about to tell you is the God's honest truth, and I wouldn't lie, because lying is a sin. Six months ago I was a slovenly 158 pounds of bored, impetuous, spoiled housewife. Now I am a svelte 115 pounds thanks to the Wulfwinter Weight Loss Clinic. Here's my story.
Day 1
Tuesday is lunch day at the club with my friends Carli and Liz. Usually we gab about the usual stuff: who's banging who at the club, which employees got fired for stealing or for screwing the members, who's giving the Chairman blow jobs under the table during board meetings in order to get the ladies locker room remodeled, etc., etc., etc. Today was special, however, because we hadn't seen Carli in four months – she was at some posh weight loss clinic and came back weighing under 120 pounds. She looked fabulous! Her abs were rippling, her calves thin and sexily muscular under her cream stockings. She had a fresh tan and a smile permanently plastered on her face.
"Oh my God! You guys, it is sooo good to see y'all again!" gushed Carli as she sipped her low carb Grey Goose martini. "It seems like I've been gone for years!"
"You look awesome, Carli – I am sooo jealous!" Liz moaned pitifully.
Liz, like me, had succumbed to the ravages of having a couple kids and fifteen years of marriage under her belt. She was pushing 180 and showed no signs of slowing down. She absent-mindedly speared a piece of cheesecake with her fork and delicately ate a large mouthful.
Carli's ponytail bounced up and down as she animatedly told us how her dramatic weight loss had positively affected her relationship and boring sex life with her husband, Drew.
"Like, Drew can't keep his hands off me! Every night for the last four nights, and even this morning before work he has fucked my brains out! If I'd known that losing this weight would change him like this, I would've done it years ago. Y'all have to do it! They have a payment plan..."
"Gosh, Carli, I don't know. Maybe if you had Drew call and talk to Bob, he might pay for this. Bob's kind of tight with our money, being an accountant and all. I'm not sure."
Bob is my husband. He's faithful, handsome, steadfast, and booooooring. But I love him, and I pride myself on the fact that I've never cheated on him. Our sex life the last few years has petered down to almost nothing. With two kids and soccer and karate and
PTO meetings, we have had little time for intimacy. Bob used to have quite the libido when we were young. He was always trying to get me to do yucky stuff like blow jobs and anal sex. That kinky stuff just isn't for me. I was brought up a lady, and a lady does NOT put her husband's thingie in her mouth or her butt.
"Y'all just gotta do it! I'll have Drew call Bob tonight!"
Day 2
By the morning of the next day Bob had arranged for the kids to stay with his parents for the summer, and I was packed and ready to begin my stay at "the fat farm," as I called it. Bob was uncharacteristically excited about this new chapter in our lives, and I began to wonder if he was planning on having an extramarital affair in our house while I was away. Bob is usually slow in making decisions, I mean he always ponders and mulls over everything, but after his hour long hushed conversation with Drew, he practically packed my bag himself. I have to admit, my curiosity was definitely piqued.
That afternoon, I was standing in the crisp, clean, ultra modern lobby of the Wulfwinter Weight Loss Clinic located in the trendy Midtown section of downtown Atlanta. Eighty inch HD plasma screen TVs hung on the walls showing testimonies from women and men extolling the healing powers of the Wulfwinter Clinic. A few people sat quietly in plush armchairs reading
Vogue, Men's Health, Outdoor
magazines. Employees dressed in crisp, white lab coats quietly and efficiently went about their business ushering customers inside for consultation. After a few minutes of waiting, my name was called and I followed a tall, leggy, pony-tailed brunette through a set of doors into a small, elegantly decorated conference room.
"Hello, Ms...McCormick, is it? Yes. I see you want to lose 40 pounds." The last part was a statement, not a question, and the speaker was a lean, distinguished man with salt-and-pepper hair and a polished year-round tan.
"My name is Doctor Wulfwinter, and we guarantee you will lose the weight in just 2-3 months. Yes, I said guarantee. Here at Wulfwinter, our methods are, well...alternative, but our results are without a doubt, the best in the industry."
As he spoke, I was mesmerized by his steel blue gaze and his commanding presence. I wondered if hypnosis was going to be part of the curriculum.
"Before you can be admitted, we just need you to sign a few pesky consent forms, and then we'll check you into your state-of-the-art living accommodations. If you could just sign, here, here, here, here, and
here
. Initial here, here, here and here. Sign here, here,
here
..."
For a brief moment I hesitated, wondering if I was too hastily jumping into something, but then I noticed that Bob had already signed and initialed all the forms.
"Bob has already signed these?" I asked incredulously. Bob never signed anything without reading it three times and having his lawyer present.
"Yes. We had the forms couriered to your husband last night and he obliged nicely. See, you have nothing to be worried about, your husband has paid in full and is completely supportive of your weight loss endeavor."
Wow, I thought, as I signed and initialed the forms. These guys don't mess around.
My "living accommodations" were unbelievable! Huge king-sized mahogany sleigh bed, tasteful, yet elegant dresser and night stand. Hanging over the bed was a beautiful gold and crystal chandelier. The walls were painted in a muted, but soothing Tuscany cream, with a stucco-like wall treatment. At the far end of the room stood a huge, modern exercise bike and an equally imposing digital stairmaster. Strangely enough, the wall at the end of the room was one giant mirror, with two large flat screen plasma TVs placed about shoulder high. The floor was a rich dark hardwood with a thick, plush multi-colored shag area rug covering the space under and around the spacious sleigh bed.
I plopped down on the bed, spread-eagled, looking forward to the experience. I imagined myself taking long walks with the other "guests", playing outdoor exercise games like badminton or tennis, and generally living it up for the next few months.
The plasma TVs abruptly came to life and the image of Doctor Wulfwinter smiled benignly at me.
"Thank you for choosing the Wulfwinter Clinic, we are please to have you join us. Our methods are unconventional, but our results without peer. We are happy you chose us, and hope you recommend us to your close friends. Without further ado, your treatment will now begin."
From the ceiling, a soft mist drifted down, and the last thing I remember was thinking "Mmmm, that smells like
