Fat Gainer Story Novels & Stories

He shoved a chip in his mouth and noisily chewed. At my other side, Nalanie was practically inhaling her sandwich. She caught me staring. “Long workout this morning,” she said between bites. I glanced at Aya, then back at Nalanie. Two very different body types but both had toned arms that spoke of hours in the gym. I would love to look that fit. For most of my twenties, on the run, I’d been practically gaunt. It wasn’t until Garrick and the regular, deKaelennt meals that he paid for, that my curves started to fill out. After my ordeal and a week of near starvation, I was gaining back some of what I’d lost. But I wanted muscle—strength. Like these women had.

, he said. "Come on, Terrance.... There much be something positive that happened to you.", she wanted to know. "With the constant bullying and pain I went through, I decided to work out intensely. I was tired of being bullied because of the way my stomach and faced looked. I had no trainer, I trained myself. It was a struggle getting this amount of muscles and abs. I had to stop eating fast foods and junk for like two or three years and I had to waste money on a gym membership. With a lot of effort and patience, I lost all that fat and gained a lot of muscles. But even with all the muscles and abs, I still was the same shy and lonely person. Everything about me stayed the same, the only diff

So, Gale gladly accepted the offer. Once the brief tour concluded, Gale immediately began his workout. He decided to start with a 50kg bench press. To his surprise, the 50kg weights felt like less than a kilogram as he began lifting. A fitness coach, noticing Gale's VIP status, approached to offer assistance, intending to caution him against lifting weights meant for professionals rather than beginners. However, the coach halted mid-sentence upon witnessing Gale effortlessly lift the weights. It was as if Gale was merely lifting his hands.

Miss Bandit, did you gain weight? Bang! A loud sound came from the study, and Vermont quickly added, "Did you gain weight? The gym is having a promotion right now. They're giving a buy-one-free-one package for whoever has a body fat of more than twenty-four percent. If you're a little fatter, we could've signed up for it together." The next second, Felicity's voice came fiercely from the study. "You should eat more and gain thirty pounds to sign up for it yourself!" "Sure."

OUR place was becoming crowded. While Leah sat on the sofa armrests beside Kacey and Tiffany jumped into my lap. "Gary, find a chair, bring it here," I asked. "It's all right," said Gary, lighting his match and lifting it high in the air. "I'm just standing." Yes, you were right. You should stand up. Only you were the most stamina among us. Besides, Gary was also a professional fitness coach at one of the leading gyms in Surabaya - Old Timey's Fitness Center.

She just smiled and said 'That's how. Pam had a bit of a challenge on her hands. At 6' 3" and 265 pounds, Ben was a big man. Paul Bunyan, broad shouldered big. He wasn't fat, just well cushioned. He'd lost touch with going to the gym during his University days and had survived on pizza and beer a little too much. Pam sent him to a gym which specialized in toning up and weight loss and six months later he'd lost the soft layer of fat and hardened the muscles that had been hidden underneath it.

He's working on his bike outside, Wipp right beside him smoking a cigarette. "Gym. Been a few since I've gone and checked it out." They both nods their head and I hop on my bike and peel out of there. Genre Fitness is another legitimate business the club owns. It's also the only one I have my fingers dipped in. After Austin got me to prospect for the Warriors, he pulled me aside and told me two things. One, the booze had to stop, and two, I had to gain my strength back. I had lost so much weight from depression and filled it with things that were not healthy for my body. He introduced me to Slip, one of the old timers that although no longer was attached to the club, kept his club tats. He t

“Mila steps on a scale and it reads ‘to be continued.’” “Mila, can you only see your feet when you’re sitting down?” All these jokes used to bother me when I was freshman, and sent me down a dark path. I became fixated on losing weight. I spent hours at the gym, cut most of my calories, and scrutinized every inch of my body. I lost some of the weight but my health was not good. I had anxiety about everything and felt more tired than before. Gabe was the one that pointed it out but I ended up lashing out at him and fainting in the gym. I woke up the next day in the hospital with the doctors telling me I was dehydrated and malnourished.

Her favorite line was, "If you want to be thin, you have to control your intake. Even water will make you bloated." I collapsed beside the door and pressed my face against the cold glass, trying to cool my burning skin. "Mom, I swear I didn't… sneak any food… I'm sick… and my lower back hurts so much… I can't pee." Would Mom return if my swelling went down? If the numbers dropped, could I finally drink some water? Wait—exercise! Mom always said intense workouts burned fat the fastest! I ignored the pain, rolled over, and started doing crunches. Every time I lifted my body, a spike of agony shot through my lower back, and my vision went black. Cold sweat soaked my spine.

Sometimes he even gave Zane a run for his money, which was saying a lot, since Zane was everywhere. "So..." I pointed to the built guy with the blond hair. "... is that Wes Michels?" "Star quarterback for the Seahawks," Gabe huffed. "Hell, yeah. I had the guy write me down his exact workout routine along with his diet. I lost weight, and he put on twenty pounds of pure muscle." He sighed. "Sometimes at night I want to kill him." "Wow, violent." Gabe laughed then crooked his finger at a short girl with dark, wavy hair. She weaved her way through the crowd and jumped into his arms.